Prawn to be wild (garlic)

I'm a busy man, I don't have time to separate my free-range, organic araucana eggs for homemade mayonnaise. In the cut and thrust world I live in I barely have time to put clothes on before I leave the house and take the children to school.*Why not just buy a jar of mayonnaise I hear you ask? To be honest, it's been a quiet couple of weeks here, so I blatantly have more time usual, hence the fresh bread issuing forth from the oven and the children eating proper food on the weekends and after school.The reason I didn't separate the eggs was to see what whole egg mayonnaise was like. And it's pretty good, hardly different to the usual method. It's just a little more liquid to begin with so emulsifying the oil takes a little more time, but in a food processor it's easy. And it tastes so much better than a middle-class posh jar with French words and has the added benefit of having no stuff in it for a year on the shop shelf.I found the remains of some wild garlic, flowers and all, in a still fairly good state in a bag in the fridge. They were starting to become slightly frilly and not quite as fresh as when I picked them. They were certainly good enough, however, for a pesto, sauce or in this case accompaniment to plump and juicy prawns on hot toasted sourdough. If I'm lucky, there may still be some lurking in the garden for the risotto I'd originally planned, but for now, this is a delicious use for them.As far as the monk's beard goes, the season for that is even shorter. If you've missed it, although I suspect it's still available (Natoora and Ocado stock it), samphire works perfectly in it's place. And failing that, some tender British asparagus tips, halved lengthways and lightly steamed will also work.*I do get dressed. And it's mainly because the alarm is such shock to the system I snooze it until the last minute. I'm not a morning person. Getting up earlier is not an option with my lack of discipline.Ingredients, lunch for two8 large tiger prawns, shell and head on2 free-range organic eggs1tbsp Dijon mustardA pinch of saltRapeseed oilA tablespoon or two of olive oil to finishA splash of water to loosenA small bunch of wild garlic, flowers too if you have any (they're peppery)A small bunch of monk's beard or a couple of handfuls of samphireJuice and zest of half a lemonSourdough bread to toastMethodMake the mayonnaise. You can do this in the mini bowl of the food processor or by hand with a whisk.Stir the mustard and a pinch of salt into the eggs. With the motor or your whisk hand running, pour in the rapeseed oil at first slowly drop by drop until it starts to thicken and emulsify. You can then speed up the pour, spinning all the time until thick and 'mayonnaise-y'. Now continue with the olive oil. Add a splash of water to loosen a little. If you're doing this in the processor,  throw in the garlic now and blitz until completely shredded to pieces in the mayo. If doing it by hand, slice, slice and slice again then chop. Now stir it in well. This keeps in the fridge for a few days in a sealed jar so make it ahead if you fancy.Sauté the prawns with the shell on in some olive oil and chopped garlic until cooked, then remove from the pan and leave to cool a little.Remove the tough stalks from the monk's beard. These make good, if temporary weaponsQuickly sauté the leaves in the pan the prawns were cooked in and add the lemon juice and a pinch of salt at the end.Toast the bread, dollop a spoon of mayonnaise on top and spread it around.I shelled the prawns over the toast and mayo, squeezing the heads as I did so to get more of the juices out, giving it an even bigger punch of flavour.A sprinkle of salt and pepper, the still warm monk's beard leaves and perhaps a few chilli flakes and lunch is ready.

Nice pear

The drive south took four hours. We didn't say a word during the journey. Mile after mile of flat, treeless landscape passed by the windows of the van as the cold evening light turned to black.Bridgette and I practically grew up together, which is why, all those years later, it made it hard to have to kill her.I've finally finished reading two very long books (I highly recommend A Little Life if you fancy 800 pages of amazingly written bleak misery) so have returned to the world of trashy thrillers for a while to have a breather. It's a rather like the home kitchen, sometimes I can be found cooking long and involved dished that take time and concentration, and sometimes a dish as simple as this does for a quick meal. They are just as satisfying in different ways and now the weather, warming and sunnier, makes a light meal seem less of a diet and more a choice.That's not to say something rich and deep is banished until autumn, last night we eat a hearty venison carbonade, cooked long and slow and full of flavour. But soon, these will be put aside until the days shorten again.This isn't even really a recipe, more a combination of things. I've used gorgonzola as I find Roquefort, even though a favourite of mine, to be a little, well, slimy, for this. There's no reason you couldn't use a blue stilton or similar, but it should be a little more on the crumbly side than the wet.Tossed through with some ripe pears, peppery roquette, some crumbled walnuts and dressed with a little excellent olive oil, thick balsamic and a pinch of salt and pepper, this really is five minutes work between you and deliciousness. Thrilling.IngredientsOne pear per person, ripe but not falling apart cored and cut into chunksGorgonzola, a few lumps here and there, crumbled and tossed throughA handful of walnuts, lightly choppedA handful of roquette eachGood olive oil and balsamicSalt and pepper to seasonMix it all together and serve. It's nice with some crusty, toasted sourdough too.

A spring in our step

 There is a strange kind of calm in the house. Just the gentle hum of the washing machine in the background. I hear a car pass by and the clock ticking on the wall. It's a special kind of silence now the children are back in school. I've even turned off the radio that I normally keep on for a kind of company so I can hear the quiet clearly.The early morning sun on the walk to school this morning shone on one half of the road. Maya asked to not walk in the shade so she could feel it on her face. Our hands were a little chilly, the day still warming up. It is after all, only April.All the trees round here are now full of leaves. Most of the blossom has fallen and some still carpets the pavements like the confetti in the aftermath of a wedding, fluttering around every so often in the light wind.Last night we sat down as a family and ate a cottage pie with garlic green beans. A hearty meal eaten in the early evening still-light as the days lengthen toward summer. We can move on from these winter dishes now, so yesterday was a kind of farewell.And as the wild garlic appears everywhere, like a surreptitious Frenchman in the hedges, other greens and shoots and tender vegetables fill the stalls at the market, colours taking over from the drab dullness that paint companies may call 'dried turnip'. I bought a large bag of sorrel there this weekend. Usually I raid my mother-in-law's plentiful supply from her garden, along with the garlic leaves and flowers, but as I was there, I though a few pounds for a plentiful bag was worth it.This recipe comes, originally from my mother-in-law Sue. She is to take all credit for it and it is so delicious, zest, clean and fresh tasting that I'm sharing it here. It's almost effortless to make and is everything good cooking should be. Simple, good ingredients, full of flavour all coming together to give you something more than the sum of its parts. No doubt, you could try it too with a bit of wild garlic added, or if you're unable to get sorrel, spinach, a splash of lemon and some nutmeg would be equally tasty, but I urge you to try as hard as you can to find this lemony, fresh leaf.Ingredients for twoA handful or two of sorrel leaves, any tough stems removed250ml double cream2 eggs. Duck eggs would be great as wellSalt and pepper to seasonThat really is all you need.MethodI have a steamer pan which is perfect for this, mine fits two steel ramekins on the steamer basket, but a tray on the hob filled with water and the eggs in ramekins on a trivet bain marie style works well too over a gentle heat. You could even poach them and transfer them to a ramekin if you fancy.However you choose to cook the eggs, they should be just past the point of runny-yolked, and not quite at the set point, so keep an eye on them.While they are gently cooking, Heat the cream to just below boiling in a saucepan and season it well. Put the sorrel in a blender and pour in the hot cream before blitzing to a vivid green sauce. Doing it this way keeps the colour bright. Taste and adjust the seasoning then pour over the eggs and just cook for a minute further to take away the rawness of the sorrel.Serve immediately with some sourdough toast and salad. I drizzled a little green chilli sauce on mine with a dash of rapeseed oil. Not enough to change the flavour, but just enough to tickle the tongue.