For those of you who regularly read my recipes (hello Mum!), you'll know I love using wild garlic. Having used all that I had access to this year, all that remained were the seed pods. Desperate to cling on to the last of this short season I made sure I had a supply of them in the fridge to use like little bombs, giving blasts of peppery garlicness to dishes.Salmon and pesto is a simple and perfect match. Rich and dense, the fish is cut through by the aromatic basil. I've started to use a variety of nuts in my pesto, from pistachio to walnut, just for a little variety, and I don't always have pine nuts in the house. So feel free to use what you fancy.I had complaints from the boss about pearl barley, but I'm sticking with it. She likes it in soup but apparently would be happy to never have it again. And certainly not in place of a risotto. Well that's fine. It's another dish on the home alone menu. I happen to like the slightly chewy edge it has, and it makes a change from rice. It's also far simpler to cook than a risotto, so when you just want to get something healthy on the table quickly this is an easy win.Ingredients2 salmon steaks, skin on2 handfuls of pearl barleyA couple of tablespoons of homemade pesto1tbsp wild garlic seed podsRapeseed oil, chervil and fennel fronds to serve, if you have any. If not, a few basil leaves'll do.MethodSalt the salmon for about twenty minutes before cooking. This sets the proteins and prevents that horribly milky-white stuff coming out when you cook the salmon. Be sure to rinse it well before cooking or there will be serious complaints.Make your pesto, if you haven't already. When you've done that, cover the barley in vegetable stock, bring to the boil and simmer for about twenty minutes, or until it's cooked through. Drain and stir through the pesto. Add the garlic pods and check the seasoning.Heat a sauté pan with a little olive oil and gently fry the salmon skin-side down for about four minutes. Turn it when the skin is crisp and golden. Cook for one minute then turn the heat off and leave to rest in the pan.Divide the barley between two plates, drizzle with the oil and top with the salmon, chervil and fennel if using.
Salmon and Pearl Barley with Pesto and Wild Garlic Pods
in Recipes
It's officially the first day of summer and true to form here in England, the rain is torrential. Nonetheless, we carry on regardless, cheerfully wearing shorts, smiling and saying things like "Nice day for it" or "A bit wet out, isn't it?"The bad weather isn't going to affect my cooking though. I'm not going to suddenly revert to turnip stew just because there are lifeboats sailing past my first floor windows. I'll pray for sunshine tomorrow, and hope the barbecue will make an appearance or two this year.With that in mind here are some fresh summer green beans, cooked for a matter of minutes in boiling water then run through a hot pan with a clove or two of crushed garlic and olive oil. They are more delicious than chips, and that's a fact. It's a simple accompaniment to many dishes I make and a necessity with Sunday lunch.Being summer, though, there are so many plants and herbs growing like magic beanstalks that it seems rude not to use as much as possible. So I jazzed up the beans with chives and their flowers, fennel fronds, chervil and some of the remaining wild garlic I had instead of the usual crushed cloves. A good drizzle of olive oil - just enough to make them silky, not too much that they are swimming in the stuff - and some salt finished this off nicely.We eat it cooler than I would usually serve to protect the delicate flowers. Served with a little fish and butterhead salad it's a quick and easy summer supper. Even if it's a monsoon rain.Ingredients250g dwarf beans (extra-fine if you can)A few chive flowersA small bunch of chives, finely choppedSome fennel frondsA small handful of chervil, finely choppedA few wild garlic leaves, chopped. (If not, a clove of crushed garlic)Olive oilSalt to seasonMethodCook the beans in salted, boiling water for about three to four minutes. Drain and run under cold water to stop them cooking.Heat a pan with some olive oil and add the chopped garlic (leaves or cloves) and chives. Swirl around for a few seconds then add the beans back in and mix well. Season with a little salt then leave to cool for a minute.Add the chive flowers, fennel fronds and chervil, drizzle with a little oil and serve.
Throwing a load of vegetables in a tin with some herbs, oil, salt and pepper is about as easy as cooking gets. Easier than boiling an egg, even. It's a great accompaniment to roast meat and steamed fish and gets a load of different colours on your plate. I love picking out the caramelised, sticky and juicy bits that have caught in the pan while roasting, it's such a comforting and delicious treat that the cook gets all to their sneaky self.Often I'll roast a chicken or joint of pork on top of the veg, that's a real treat. The meat takes on a deep flavour, and the juices in the pan are so rich and delicious, you just pour them over, there's no need to make a sauce.I've even roasted a load of sausages in among the vegetables, a perfect one pot meal. All it takes is a little peeling and chopping then the oven does the rest. You can throw in some tomatoes too, they give off their juices and mingle deliciously with the other veg. Fennel softens beautifully, giving off its light, mellow aniseed to the pot and onions turn golden, sticky and sweet.Use what is available at the time and keep an eye on it while cooking so it doesn't burn. 35-45 minutes at 180c is normally about right, depending on what veg you use. One tip I'd give is to have the more delicate vegetables at the bottom and harder ones such as beetroot, carrots and the like on top.Drizzle everything in olive oil and season well with salt and pepper. Mix through some hardy herbs such as rosemary, sage and bay leaves and finish off with some young thyme and perhaps chilli flakes as it comes out the oven. Put it straight on the table and dig in.
While I happily eat my way through bowl after bowl of dressed green leaves, some dishes call out for a tomato salad. Ripe just to the point where the juices burst out as you slice them, but still firm enough to hold their shape is when they're at their sweetest best.I don't really believe my son Noah's claims to not like tomato. His love of bolognese and other tomato sauces is at least a gateway I can give him a shove through. My daughter Maya, however, eats them like the world's last sweets. Especially cherry tomatoes so I often put a handful in her lunchbox which unlike bananas and apples, never return home. I'm sure Noah will come round to them one day, how sad life would be without tomato salad in it.This works equally well with vinaigrette, but here I've dressed it lightly with excellent olive oil and a splash of thick, aged balsamic. Summer joy.Ingredients3-4 good sized ripe tomatoes1 small round shallot, finely choppedAn inch of cucumber, deseeded and finely choppedA few pinches of chopped, fresh parsley1 spring onion, slicedGood olive oil and good balsamic to dressSalt and pepper to seasonMethodSlice the tomatoes and mix in the shallots. Leave to rest for about fifteen minutes then add the cucumber and spring onion. Drizzle with the oil and balsamic, sprinkle over the parsley and season well.This is great with charcuterie and good bread or equally delicious with grilled fish such as mackerel or a juicy steak.
When I worked in the restaurant, every afternoon we made big simmering vats of stock which we would then reduce overnight. Each time, we would peel and halve kilos of onions, throw in countless chicken carcasses and pigs feet, top and tail sacks of carrots before peeling them then leave the lot to gently poach for hours. This was not a one person job. Nor was it a particularly fragrant one, either. I'm grateful I didn't have to sit next to myself on the train home.Bee complains about the smell whenever I make stock at home. Generally, it's only chicken based, but occasionally I get a few bags of bones from the butcher and return to the restaurant method to make a deep, rich broth, meaty and gelatinous and full of flavour. For me, the smell of stock cooking is comforting, homely and cosy. It speaks of the nourishing meals to come, from ragùs to Thai broths, fancy sauces to simple soups.All you need to do is get the largest and deepest pan you have, get a load of bones from your butcher as well as plenty of carrots and onions (peeled) and throw them all in. Cover with water, bring to the boil and let simmer for at least six hours. Add some herbs such as thyme, rosemary and bay for the last hour or so then leave to cool. You can use it now if you like, (strained) but I prefer to add another stage just to really concentrate the flavours:The next day (unless you fancy doing it right away, up to you), remove all the bones and vegetables, throw them out and strain the stock back into the pan.Bring to the boil for ten minutes then simmer until reduced by about half. Let it cool then cover and put in the fridge. It freezes well, so if you have plenty you may want to do this. If not, it should keep for about five days. It may seem like a long process, but I promise your gravy will be amazing.
When I think of Jersey, instead of potatoes and cream, I think of Bergerac and John Nettles. And Hasselback obviously sounds like Hasselhoff, so this recipe should be extraordinarily good at fighting crime.A good Maris Piper potato salad, dressed lightly with mayonnaise and chives, or new potatoes gently robed with a zingy vinaigrette always sit well on the summer table. Warm Anyas, butter melting and pooling around and tossed through with parsley, salt and pepper as well is a perfect side-dish with a barbecued and charred rib-eye steak or some grilled sea bass with a herby oil.This potato salad has the crisp salty crunch of delicious jacket potaoes. The ridges absorb all the flavours and juices. Let it sit a while before dressing so it cools down.The gribiche sauce is a classic normally served with veal's head. It's a kind of cross between egg mayo and tartar sauce. While that may not sound instantly appealing to some, it really is delicious and gives this dish a little twist.So the only crime worth fighting here is probably going to be the British summer. Oh well, maybe I'll have a Magnum anyway.Ingredients500g Jersey RoyalsOlive oilSalt to seasonFor the gribiche:2 egg yolksSalt to season2 cooled hard-boiled eggs (about eight minutes)5 cornichons1tbsp capers1 small shallot2tsp Dijon mustard1 small red chilli (optional)Olive oilRapeseed oilSome parsleyMethodHeat the oven to 180c.Score the tops of the potatoes all the way across the top a millimetre apart slicing down just a little so they look stripy.Put them on an oven tray and roll them about in olive oil and salt then roast for 45 minutes.While the potatoes are cooking, make the gribiche.Whisk the egg yolks, mustard, hard boiled egg yolks (keeping the cooked whites aside) and some salt together in a bowl then gently drizzle in the olive oil, drip by drip at first, whisking all the while until it starts to form a thick emulsion. If you have a mini food processor, by all means use it for this stage.Now switch to the rapeseed oil and continue until you have a nice pot of mayonnaise. Thin it down with a little water or lemon juice if you like.Finely chop the parsley, shallots, cornichons and chilli then lightly run your knife through the capers and dice the cooked egg whites.Add all of this to the mayonnaise then mix well. Taste and season more if you like.Let the potatoes cool just a little then stir through the sauce and serve.
Every weekday Maya needs a packed lunch for nursery. That will come to an end as she moves into year one in the autumn, but until then, each morning I will continue to run around like a loon with one shoe on, half a cup of coffee reheated from the night before and a slight sense of panic that there is only a questionably fresh slice of ham or two in the fridge to go in her sandwich along with the banana that has been making day trips to class with her.I do, however, know there will be bread. On Sunday I make the loaves for the week. Usually two. One sourdough and one of these. This is so easy and quick to make there really is no need to buy bad bread ever again. If you have a mixer with a dough hook, it's about two minutes work and a little waiting while the yeast does its job. If not, well it's not an hour of knead, more like ten minutes and surely that's worth it. You can add all kinds of extra things to it as you see fit. I'll often throw in some pumpkin seeds, rye grains, quinoa or sunflower seeds.Half an hour in the oven and you have a loaf of homemade bread with no funny business going on. It's a challenge well worth rising to.Ingredients250 organic stoneground strong white flour (I like 
It's a short-lived season, much like the elderflowers that grow at the bottom of the garden, but it's one, rather like the flowering of the magnolia tree, that brings me great happiness. In the past, I have tended to use wild garlic only for a risotto. Failing that, I just lie face down among the leaves and breathe deeply, occasionally chomping on a flower like a demented Eeyore.Summer is here more or less and the cupboards and fridge groans with colour and often fruit flies if I'm forgetful. It's the season that makes cooking easy. When you've got such fresh and vibrant ingredients readily available, if not in your garden then on your greengrocers shelves and market stalls, meals can be put together in hardly any time and with the minimum of fuss.This morning, I popped into my in-laws for a cup of coffee after taking the children to school and returned home with a bag full of snails, ladybirds, a bit of a slug and some other unidentified black dots with legs. Among the wildlife, I managed to fit in a few bunches of wild garlic leaves and the seed pods, I've missed the flowers this year.After a good wash of both the leaves and me (I feel I still have an insect or two lurking somewhere about my person), I quickly pulsed them in the processor and set about this dish with the enthusiastic thought of lunch. Feel free to replace the haddock with clams or perhaps monkfish.. It's just what I had in the fridge. And if you don't have any lapsang, just a little vegetable stock will work just as well.Ingredients20 wild garlic leaves50-75ml olive oil1tsp fennel seedsA small handful of pistachios2tbsp lemon juiceOne and a half small red onions, finely slicedOne celery stick, finely dicedSome thymeA spoonful of butterA handful of pearl barleyA mug of lightly brewed and strained lapsang suchong tea200g haddock, in chunksSalt to tasteA pinch of chilli flakesSome lemon zestA few fennel fronds if you have themMethodPulse the leaves, oil, fennel seeds, pistachios, oil and lemon juice together until you have a coarse paste. Taste and season if needed.Melt the butter in a saucepan and add 3/4 of the onion, thyme and the celery. Cook until softened, season and add the pearl barley. Cook for a minute or two before adding the lapsang then simmer for about 10-15 minutes until cooked, but with bite.Add the fish and cook gently for about three to four minutes.Remove the fish from the pan and stir through a little of the pesto and the remaining red onion. Serve the barley with the fish, a drizzle more of the pesto, the chilli flakes, lemon zest and fennel.
For me peaches are the fruit that means summer. There's nothing quite like the taste and soft texture, and the juice which invariably runs down your chin is sticky, sweet and delicious.You may ask why, in that case, is there any need to do anything to this fruit other than eat it as it comes? And while I'd be inclined to agree, sometimes pairing ingredients makes them more than the sum of their parts and can elevate them to something sublime.This recipe is a delicious way to end those long lunches outside in the sun. The syrup is sweet and slightly exotic tasting and the vanilla and cloves in it are a classic match with the peach. A quick poaching of the fruit somehow mellows and intensifies the flavour at the same time and using jasmine tea gives a delicate floral taste. This is best served cool, so make it early and leave it to rest while you tuck in to lunch.Ingredients100g coconut sugar (or unrefined brown sugar)150ml brewed jasmine green tea1 vanilla pod, split open3 cloves2 black cardamom pods, seeds only4 flat peachesA few sprigs of thymeMethodPut everything except the peaches and thyme in a saucepan and bring to the boil, stirring every now and then. Boil for about two minutes, then turn off and leave to infuse for about half an hour.After it's been cooling for about ten minutes, stab the bottom of the peaches a few times then sit them in the syrup for twenty minutes.Bring back to the boil and simmer the peaches for about three minutes each side. Serve the peaches with some thyme leaves and plenty of the syrup.It's too late now, but Bee has suggested sprinkling crumble topping all over these. That sounds amazing. It would also probably be nice to have a glass of iced tea with it. Maybe I'll try that next time.
Good food to me generally means simple food done well with thought and care. It makes sense that if you have good ingredients, you're off to a good start. There's nothing more disappointing in life than a pale, white airship of a tomato when you know how good a ripe, deep red one can and should taste. There's little point in bothering, far better to eat something else.And it can also be the little touches that elevate a meal. A good hand with the seasoning, the right herbs, good olive oil or that dash of fish sauce in your scrambled eggs. You don't need to be making spheres and foams to eat well. I've always seen that as the food equivalent of haute couture. No-one really wants to wear that stuff, but ideas do trickle down to real clothes.These tomatoes are amazing squished slightly into toasted slices of sourdough bread. We had them on the weekend as part of a brunch and they were the star. Bringing fruitiness, freshness and a summery zing to the plate. All it takes is a couple of minutes chopping and slicing, a few minutes under the grill and they're ready. Be careful though, a hot tomato can be like sticking the glowing embers of a barbecue in your mouth. And no sane person would do that.Ingredients6 small ripe tomatoes1 clove of garlic, about the size of the tip of your thumbA small sprig of rosemary leavesA sprig of thyme leaves1 tbsp dried oreganoMaldon Salt and pepper to seasonGood balsamic vinegar I use 
I always want chips and a green salad with my omelette. It may sound like something you'd get in the greasiest of London cafés, but my memory of it is sitting outside a brasserie in Grenoble, the sun flickering through the leaves in the square. I drank citron pressé, which is de rigeur, naturellement.An omelette, done well is the best. But it's so easy to mess up. So here's my quick cut out and keep guide to the perfect omelette:Get an 
I love a French tart. As Barry Cryer once said, "if you want an innuendo, I'll give you one", but that is beside the point. I prefer them sweet, but I'm not averse to the occasional savoury one such as tomato and herbs or roast vegetable. The best by far though, is the pisaladière. Sadly, I'm the only anchovy fan in this house which means we never have it. It's not the kind of thing you make in single portions. I have, therefore, made this alternative which uses strong olives and mushroom powder. I find the olives a pretty good substitute and often use them in salsa verde too.The key to this is long and slow. You must take the onions out for a romantic meal, a walk along the Seine, across the Pont Neuf with the lights of Notre Dame twinkling behind you. You must slowly kiss along their arm, whispering sweet nothings by the light of the moon.Then, and only then can you think about the next stage. What's good about this dish is that it is fairly effortless, unless you make your own puff pastry- which I would recommend every once in a while, and yields results that are far greater than the sum of its parts.That is to say, that like the French, you do a little work, then have a long break and sit down to lunch. Whether you have an affair in between is up to you. But the melting, sweet onions and the slightly sharp saltiness of the olives combined with the crisp flakiness of the pastry make this an affair to remember.Ingredients500g white onions, finely slicedSalt to seasonOlive oil320g puff pastryA few sprigs of thymeA pinch of rosemary leaves1tbsp dried 
I start to panic if I run out of onions. They're an absolute necessity in our house. How something so pungent when raw can be so seductive when cooked is a mystery. From onion soup to the base of a thousand sauces they must be one of the most versatile ingredients we have. And yes, even raw with some cucumber, tomato and coriander they're delicious. I just tend to rinse them a little to take the edge off.The naughtiness of a fried onion bhaji with its crisp edges and soft insides makes the onion seem illicit. I know deep-frying gets a bad press, but for me, it's more about the arse-ache of getting the fryer down and then the oil clean up afterwards that would have BP blanching. So unless I'm going all out, I bake them in the oven. They're just as delicious and yes, that little bit healthier.Two onions is enough for a small portion each. And I like to serve them with a spicy mango chilli 
The more food I eat, and I do so with every passing day, the more I love the simple things. Last night we had spaghetti al pomodoro, using a jar of beautiful Italian plum tomatoes cooked with long softened onion, garlic, some good olive oil and a snowstorm of Parmesan. The key was the tomatoes. It's only May here, so we're not likely to have great ones, and while you can get pretty good tinned ones (I use Cirio as my storecupboard tins) it's worth every now and then splashing out on a really good jar of Italian ones and 
There is no competition for me when it comes to tarts. If I had to choose one, even over tart au citron, tart tatin, tarte aux poires and chocolate tart, it would be the little glazed strawberry tarts with creme patissiere you get in Parisian bakeries. Unbeatable. However, I'm not in Paris as often as I'd like so they remain an occasional piece of heaven.Most tarts take a little effort though, and that's fine. But not this one. Today's recipe is a really quick shortbread tart with a simple chocolate ganache topped with fruit, herbs, chia seeds, honey and 
When I was a child my Grandad used to take me to get our kippers from the stone smokery near the small harbour beach at Craster. Since then, there have never been nicer kippers, to my mind.I remember it as a cold, grey place; windswept and damp. I've been back many times since, but it always seems slightly sad. Perhaps the smell of the smoke takes me back to those days, arriving after a long journey in the car in the rain.I've mentioned the kitchen at my Grandparent's house before. And just as the smell of freshly made coffee takes me back to my great Aunt's kitchen in the fifteenth arrondissement of Paris, the smell of kippers cooking, with just a touch of butter takes me back to Darras Hall, Ponteland thirty years or so ago.I do mine in the microwave these days. God knows what my Grandad would make of that, he lightly grilled them . Either way, the smell remains for a while, so learn to love it or cook with the windows wide open, burn some candles and warn the neighbours.I'm so pleased to have found the great