Lapin à la Dijon: Bunny in Mustard Cream Sauce

There are an awful lot of recipes out there for rabbit in mustard sauce. A LOT. And, a lot of them are fairly awful, in my opinion - heavy, trudging things where both the rabbit and the sauce have been assaulted with unnecessary use of flour, or which involve multi-staged cooking in that various bits must be fried before baking (almost guaranteed to make a tough bunny, in my opinion).

This is the first recipe for Lapin à la Dijon that I ever made, and after trying a few other iterations, I can safely say that it is the best - easiest to execute, and most delicious. There are plenty of other wonderful recipes out there that involve rabbit (another favourite is Lapin aux Olives, from Les Halles Cookbook, and Rabbit in Saffron Sauce from Jennifer McLagan's Bones, but for mustard cream sauce, this one is my winner. I'd love to credit the source, but unfortunately that has been lost in history. It's been written on my little recipe index card for too many years, for me to have noted its origin.

If you have a very cooperative butcher, you can probably get your bunny fully prepped and ready to go, making this dish ridiculously simple to make. If, however, you are on a budget and own a sharp knife and an extra hour or so of time, you can easily do it yourself. I followed the directions in James Pederson's Essentials of Cooking for how (and where!) to cut. Front and back legs are each removed at the proximal joint, and then the spine and ribcage are carefully sliced around with a boning knife until you can lift the bones right out of the meat. Then, simply (ha ha, I crack myself up) roll up the remaining boneless meat, which is called a "saddle", and consists of the tenderloins and the thin flaps from the side and breast of the rabbit, and tie with butcher's twine into a tidy package (as if you were trussing a roast). Even if you accidentally cut through the skin over the spine, and have two separate halves when you are done (cough), thanks to the miracle of twine, you can still make a lovely, tidy looking roulade of the rabbit saddle. Of course, you can also just chop the rabbit into parts, and cook them all bone-in. It's quicker to make, but fiddlier to cope with at the table.

Okay! That's the tough part out of the way - the rest is clear sailing.

Lapin à la Dijon

Serves 4

1 rabbit, jointed, liver and kidneys removed
1 tablespoon olive oil
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
2-3 tablespoons butter
1/2 cup room-temperature white wine (dry riesling is an excellent choice)
2-3 finely minced shallots
1 cup crème fraîche
4 tablespoons Dijon mustard
1/4 cup minced fresh tarragon (or fresh parsley)

Place the rabbit pieces in a baking dish (one with sides). Rub the pieces with olive oil, sprinkle sparingly with kosher salt, and dot with butter.


Bake at 400 F for 30 minutes. Remove dish from the oven, and add the shallots, and white wine. If your baking dish is made of glass, such as Pyrex, it's a good idea to pour the wine gently over the rabbit pieces themselves, rather than directly onto the glass, to avoid shocking the glass (a rapid change of temperature can cause breakage).


Isn't this pretty? The minced shallots look like fallen cherry blossoms. It seems like it would be perfect for a sakura festival.

Bake for another 45 minutes.

Combine the crème fraîche with the Dijon, and spoon into the pan (it might be easier to remove the rabbit pieces first, so that you can integrate the creamy mustard mixture into the liquid in the pan. Reduce the heat to 350 F, and return the pan (and the rabbit, if you removed it) for another 15 minutes. Stir the tarragon (or parlsey) into the sauce.



Serve with rice or egg noodles or something to take advantage of the creamy, saucy goodness. The roulade can easily be sliced into beautiful little rounds to share about, since not all of the legs are created equal, and because it's nice to have a bit of rabbit where you don't need to work around the bone.

If you have leftovers, for example, say you were only feeding two people with this dinner, the leftover meat can be made into absolutely delicious crêpes or even used as a pizza topping (using the leftover Dijon sauce instead of tomato, of course). In that case, be sure to take the meat off the bones (if necessary) before refrigerating, as it is much, much easier to do.

You'll note that I didn't tell you what to do with the liver and kidneys which may have come with your rabbit. Here's what you do: Saute those bad boys in a little butter with a sprinkle of coarse salt and pepper, chop very roughly, and serve them on fried bread or toast points to your delighted guests. Or, devour them yourself, as a much earned treat.

One final note: If you are feeling particularly hardcore, having deboned the rabbit saddle and now being faced with a bunch of bones, go ahead and make them into stock for the freezer. Because, at some point in the future, you may want to make bunny pie, or some sort of fricassee, and this will be your absolute treasure at that nebulous point in the future.

Kali Dal (Curried Black Lentils)

You can use a variety of different lentils to make this - the version shown here is made using whole urad dal (aka black gram), which is traditional, but you can also use black beluga lentils, and even mung beans. You can also make it with or without rajma (red kidney beans). I enjoy including the rajma for the contrast in size, texture, and colour.

You can add melted butter and/or cream or yoghurt to finish this dish (making it, in effect, a Dal Makhani), but it is delicious as is - and vegan, to boot. Perfect for entertaining your vegetarian friends. Make lots - it freezes well and reheats wonderfully for a future lunch or dinner. It thickens slightly once it cools, so if you like a wet dal, you may wish to add a little bit of water to loosen it up (wait until it is reheated before adding any water, as warming it up will also loosen it a bit). You can also make this very wet (simply by adding more water) and serving in small bowls as part of a thali, or as a first course.

Be sure to wash your urad dal very well, in lots of fresh water. A bit of grit will make the whole pot disappointing.

Kali Dal

Serves 8 (with rice or bread)

1 cup black lentils (urad dal or similar)
1/2 cup red kidney beans
6 cups water
1 thumbs-length fresh ginger, minced (divided)
1 teaspoon cayenne powder
2 teaspoon garam masala

Tempering:
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
2 teaspoon whole cumin seeds
1 medium onion, finely diced
8 cloves garlic, minced or crushed
4 fresh tomatoes, peeled and diced
1 teaspoon kosher salt


Pick over lentils and kidney beans to remove misshapen, discoloured or otherwise irregular lentils and any foreign matter (little rocks, plant stems, stray bits of grain, etc). Rinse thoroughly, with several changes of water to remove any grit or dust.

Place lentils in a heavy pot with the water and the cayenne and half the minced ginger, and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat to a medium-low simmer, and skim any foam from the top. Allow the lentils to simmer gently, covered, until kidney beans and lentils are tender – 45 minutes or a bit more, if you have older lentils. You can do this ahead, and let it sit overnight or for a couple of days in the fridge, before proceeding to the next step. At this stage, the lentils look pretty unappealing (and kind of grey-ish), but their appearance will improve greatly with the next step.

In a medium-sized skillet, heat oil over medium-high heat. Add the cumin seeds, giving the pan a shake to distribute. As soon as the cumin starts to pop, add the onions and garlic and the rest of the ginger, and fry gently until the onions have softened and started to brown. If you like your food very spicy, you can add extra cayenne to taste at this point. Next, add the diced tomatoes and salt, and stir until they give up their liquid - often they turn the onions a pretty golden colour - and scrape the mixture into the lentil pottage. Use a spatula to get every last bit. Simmer for about 15 minutes.

Add garam masala powder and simmer on a low heat for 15 minutes. If you are adding dairy, add up to half a cup of half-and-half (or plain yogurt) and let simmer for another five minutes (or until heated through). You can keep this warm, on the heat, for a long time, as long as you stir it once in a while to make sure it doesn't scorch on the bottom.

Taste and adjust for salt to your preference.

Breakfast at home: Breakfast Tacos

This was inspired by the existence of Eating Well's breakfast taco, despite being quite a different creature entirely. I disapprove of using reduced fat cheeses in most contexts, so that's gone, and I generally see no reason to add chunky salsa to eggs (because either the eggs get cold, or you have to prewarm the salsa, which is an undesirable extra step) so I use hot sauce instead. I don't generally use egg substitutes, myself, but your mileage may of course vary.

So, this is what I do.

It's less of a recipe, and more of a serving suggestion, really.

Warm up some corn tortillas in a dry skillet on the stove, while you quickly fry some bacon (cut into lardons). Remove the bacon to a plate, drain some of the fat as necessary, and scramble up some eggs in the remaining bacon drippings. Serve up the eggs into the warmed tortillas, sprinkle with freshly made bacon chunks, and garnish with cilantro and sliced green onion. A quick sprinkle of cheese - Panela in this case, but feta or soft goat's cheese would also be good - a shot of hot sauce, and down the hatch it goes! Two of these babies should set you up for a busy weekend day, no problem.

If you're not having bacon, a few black beans (ideally, tossed with lime juice and some pickled red onion) add a little extra oomph. Conversely, if you have some leftover chorizo, you could use that, too.

BBQ Pork Fried Rice

Fried rice is a culinary wonder. How else can you take a few bits of meat, an egg, some scraps of vegetables, and leftover rice, and make a meal worthy of a feast? But...what if you have no leftover rice? Fried rice is the valedictorian in the argument for making more rice than you need to. Still, I've been known to fire up the rice cooker first thing in the morning, to make sure I have "leftover" rice for dinner in the evening. As I did, in fact, this time.

Fried rice can be an intensely personal dish - we all have a favourite version (or versions) that define it in our minds and in the expectations of our stomachs. One of the most delicious ones I know is a dried scallop and egg white fried rice prepared by a local restaurant. It is incredibly pale, with only coins sliced from (I think!) gai lan stalks to relieve the otherwise monochromatic rice-scape. One day, I'll take a crack at making that one, too.

My at-home go-to fried rice, however, is very simple. I pick up some char siu from a Chinese market (or restaurant) on the way home and, if I have successfully avoided simply eating it all straight out of the container, into the skillet it goes.

I make this in a large non-stick skillet, as opposed to a wok, but feel free to use a wok, especially if you have a gas burner that can get it hot enough. As you can see, this goes wonderfully with Beijing Wings and blanched gai lan with oyster sauce (or choy sum with hoisin sauce).

BBQ Pork Fried Rice

Makes about 4 cups

150 grams Chinese barbeque pork
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
1-2 eggs, lightly beaten
1/2 small (yellow) onion, finely diced
1 rib celery, sliced thinly
1 tablespoon slivered fresh ginger
2 tablespoons low-sodium soy sauce
1/4 teaspoon sesame oil
3 cups steamed rice, cooled
1-2 finely sliced green onions

Dice pork into small cubes and set aside. Separate the cooled rice gently with your fingers (a quick spritz of cooking oil can help) so that no large chunks remain.

Heat 1/2 tablespoon oil in hot skillet and stir-fry yellow onion, celery and ginger for 30 seconds. Add the pork and stir-fry for a further 30 – 60 seconds. Stir in soy sauce and sesame oil and cook, stirring, for 1 minute. If you want to add snow or snap peas (a very nice optional extra), add them now, and stir fry for another 30 – 60 seconds. Push everything to the edges of the pan, leaving a bare space in the middle. Add the remaining 1/2 tablespoon of oil, and pour the beaten eggs into it. Let the eggs set for a minute, and then add the rice, spreading it quickly around the pan. Stir-fry for a minute or two, using a spatula to break up the eggs into small pieces. Lastly, add spring onions and stir-fry for a further 30 seconds or until well combined and rice is heated through.

Transfer rice to a platter and serve with soy sauce and hot chile oil on the side.

Greek Lemon Potatoes

These are so very, very delicious. They were fantastic as dinner, and they were a miracle fried up as hashbrowns the next day at breakfast. They are unabashedly lemony, with all the crispy-edged goodness of a good roasted potato.

We started with Martha Stewart's recipe, and tweaked it to suit ourselves. Since this was a trial run, and we were only feeding two people, we halved the recipe (which provided four servings). Next time, I'd be tempted to make the full amount, just to have lemony potatoes left over for breakfast, or as a cold potato salad. We added garlic, because we love garlic. We reduced the amount of oregano, because oregano can be quite bitter, and we figured we could always bump it up with a little extra sprinkled over the top at the end of cooking, if it seemed necessary.

Greek Lemon Potatoes
Adapted from Martha Stewart (Click here for original recipe)

Serves 4

4 medium russet or other baking potatoes
1/4 cup olive oil
1/4 cup freshly squeezed lemon juice
1/2 cup water
6-8 cloves garlic, whole
Big pinch dried oregano leaves
1/2 tablespoon kosher salt
a few "grinds" of black pepper

Preheat the oven to 475 - 500 F.

Peel potatoes and cut lengthwise into quarters. Lay potatoes in a single layer in a metal baking dish (with sides), and sprinkle lightly with dried oregano. Toss the garlic cloves in there, too. Combine the olive oil, lemon juice, salt, and water, and pour over the potatoes and garlic. Stir around to make sure everything is evenly coated, and lying in a single layer in the dish.

Bake in the very hot oven for 25 minutes, and then remove pan from oven to allow you to turn each potato slice over onto its other side, still keeping the pieces in a single layer. Handle carefully, the potato slices can be a little fragile at this stage, and may try to stick. Gently does it. If the liquid has all disappeared (evaporated and absorbed), add another half cup of water to the pan after the potatoes are turned, and return the dish to the oven for another 25 minutes. The potatoes should now be golden brown with crispy edges, and the garlic nicely caramelized. Remove potatoes carefully, using a spatula. Serve hot, room temperature, or cold.

Enjoy them with a side of Gigantes and Briam - or maybe alongside a nice braised lamb shank or moussaka.

Dairy-Free Breakfast Smoothie: Choco-Banana Peanut Butter

Still life with smoothie.

If you've been following my breakfast posts, you'll know that my usual pattern is a quick, simple breakfast on weekdays, and a more comprehensive breakfast on weekends. I am inordinately fond of toast, so a lot of my breakfasts are simply toast with some manner of topping. I don't have cereal more than a couple of times a year (other than my oatmeal at work), and I almost never have sweet things for breakfast (especially not without a savoury side). However, one sweet thing that I've always loved at breakfast is fresh fruit.

Smoothies incorporate my love of fruit into breakfast in a way that makes me incredibly happy. But! The thing about having fruit for breakfast is that I sometimes get quite hungry before I even arrive at work, and have to get into my first planned snack of the day right away, throwing my schedule off. So, I like to add a bit of oomph to my smoothies up front, which in this case is provided by peanut butter, and that usually does the trick of adding enough staying power to keep me in good shape until snack time.

I use an immersion blender for this, which is quick and simple to clean (or to simply rinse and leave for later, if you're that pressed for time). You could use any blender/food processor, large mortar and pestle that you have on hand.

Oh, and the dairy free bit? I have been experimenting with Almond Coconut "milk", and it adds a lovely Caribbean note into this particular version. You could absolutely use dairy milk of your choice, too, or one of the many other drinking-milk substitutes on the market.

Choco-Banana Peanut Butter Smoothie

Serves 1

1/2 medium banana
3/4 cup unsweetened almond-coconut "milk"
1 tablespoon natural peanut butter (smooth)
1/2 - 1 tablespoon dark cocoa powder

Break the banana into chunks and place in your blender cup.

Add the peanut butter, cocoa powder, and then the "milk" last.

Blend until smooth and a little foamy.

Taste, and add sweetener to taste if necessary (may depend on your banana's ripeness).

Decant into drinking vessel, if necessary, and enjoy.

I don't usually sweeten this one, but my suggestions for a mild sweetener would be a teaspoon or so of maple syrup, agave syrup, or honey, depending on your needs. I once used some whiskey syrup that was leftover from weekend pancakes. Your call.

What to do with the remaining half banana, you might ask? I generally just put a cover on the cut end, pop it into my banana keeper and take it to work as one of the aforementioned planned snacks. The short time between slicing it in half in the morning and oh, say, ten o'clock, makes it a perfect follow up. Or, of course, you could just make two servings of the smoothie, and use up the whole banana. You can also add the whole banana to a single serving, although it does make it much thicker, and more...banana-ier(?). I have done this on occasion (usually whilst half asleep).

Szechuan Green Beans

This is another one of those restaurant dishes that is so good, and so simple, but seems to be something that I don't make at home nearly often enough. It doesn't take long, but it is very hands-on for the ten minutes of cook time, so plan to have any other dishes that you might also be making be able to withstand a little neglect at this point.

This basic version is vegetarian (vegan, actually, if you substitute the sugar with agave syrup), but you could also easily add in a variety of meaty items: finely diced char siu (Chinese BBQ-style pork) and/or tiny dried shrimp are classic choices, as is a little bit of fresh ground pork that is browned in the first stage of cooking, before the beans go in (be careful not to add too much - any meat in this dish should primarily be an accent, not a focus). For a more protein-rich vegetarian version, go with very small cubes of tofu (or seitan) briefly fried until golden in the oil (and removed to a plate) before the beans go in. Combine again during the seasoning stage at the end.

Szechuan Green Beans

Serves 4
Total Prep & Cooking Time: 20 minutes

16 oz green beans, trimmed and left whole
2 tablespoons soy sauce (low sodium)
1 tablespoon rice vinegar
1 teaspoon golden sugar
1 tablespoon sambal oelek
2 tablespoons peanut oil
1 - 2 green onions, thinly sliced
3 cloves garlic, sliced thinly

Combine the soy sauce, vinegar, sugar, and sambal oelek in a small bowl and set aside.

Wash and trim the beans, and dry thoroughly (so there is no residual water to spit at you while you are cooking).

Because this dish cools quickly once cooked, it's a good idea to warm a serving dish just before you begin cooking. Although, the beans are perfectly delicious at room temperature -- still there's something to be said for hot out of the pan.

Heat a large iron or steel skillet over high heat until water dances when flicked on it. Put the overhead fan on high.

Add the peanut oil to the skillet, and tilt the pan until it coats the bottom and part of the sides of the skillet. Add the trimmed green beans. Cook, stirring frequently, until the beans are tender, about 8 - 10 minutes. Test one, to be sure. Don't be afraid of the beans blistering and partially blackening -- this is part of the characteristic flavour, and the most delicious ones have some of the black bits. If your beans are really staying tough, add a tablespoon of water to the pan and let the steam help you out (be careful it doesn't cause a splash of hot oil onto you)

Add the garlic and stir through. Give it a moment or two for the garlic slivers to become golden. Add the green onion and the spicy soy mixture. Cook for another 30 seconds, stirring constantly, (or use two spatulas to toss like a salad until the beans are evenly coated with seasoning) and scrape the whole mass of beans into your serving dish.

Breakfast at home: Shakshuka

Shakshuka (aka Shakshouka, Chakchouka) is a dish of eggs poached in sauce, that sauce primarily consisting of a combination of at least any two of onions, peppers, and tomatoes. It is often credited as having originated in Tunisia, but versions of it appear all across Northern Africa, the Middle East, and the eastern Mediterranean, with variations that can include fava beans, artichokes, zucchini, or even diced potatoes. It is almost a wet hash, by North American standards, and is customizable to take advantage of whatever ingredients you need to use up. Serve with bread, for a filling, delightfully comforting meal.

I like versatile. It makes it that much more likely that I'll be able to throw it on the table on a Saturday morning without having to have done any specialized shopping.

Most of the versions that I've seen have been vegetarian ones, with any meats served separately as a side. However, I like a good one-pan dish, so I went ahead and added my merguez right into the pan (although it could have easily been served as links on the side).

The method is delightfully easy, particularly for someone who hasn't yet had their first cup of coffee: essentially, you just chop up the vegetables and saute them in a bit of olive oil until they become a bit saucy, and then crack eggs into little hollows that you make in the vegetable mixture (the back of a serving spoon does a good job at this). Continue to simmer gently until the eggs are cooked to your preferred level of doneness, decorate with parsley, then serve.

For optimal presentation, use a small skillet for each portion, and serve in the skillet at the table. Otherwise, be prepared for it to look a little raggedy as you separate the servings from a single pan.

Shakshuka

Serves 2

1/2 tablespoons olive oil
1 large onion, diced
1 jalapeno pepper, diced
1 red bell pepper, diced
2 cloves garlic, minced
398 mL diced tomatoes
1 teaspoon paprika
1/4 cup parsley
2 - 4 eggs

Heat the oil over high heat in a medium-large skillet. If you're using sausage, brown them quickly and remove to a plate. Stir in the garlic, onion, and bell pepper; cook and stir until the onion has softened and turned translucent, about 5 minutes. Add the tomatoes, paprika and jalapenos, and reduce the heat.

Stir and cook until heated through, using the back of a spoon to break up the tomatoes, about 10 minutes. If you're going to add sausage, slice up your browned sausages into chunks and throw them in now to finish cooking.

Make a nest for each egg by pressing a large spoon into the mixture in the pan. Add an egg to each nest. Cook until desired doneness of eggs. Finish under a broiler if you want it piping hot with a crisp top. Serve with bread - pita bread makes a great choice, but so does focaccia, sangak, or a nice French loaf.

Some versions use a little salty cheese, as well. I think this is quite a lot of food already, but a little crumbled feta, for example, would be very nice as a finish (especially for a meat-free version).

Yorkshire Puddings

Yorkshire puddings are essentially a simple popover that has been flavoured with the drippings of the roast that they are made to accompany. They are airy, eggy, and made a perfect vessel to drunkenly cradle a gravy payload, half of which seeps slowly into the rest of your plate (and, if you're lucky), particularly your potatoes.

The batter is remarkably like crêpe batter. The only difference, really, is that instead of putting any fat in the batter, you place it in the cups of the popover/muffin tin before adding the batter. Well, and they're cooked in a very, very hot oven, as opposed to over a medium-ish flame on the stovetop. But enough about crêpes.

Yorkshire puddings are also somewhat terrifying for a lot of cooks - not because they're difficult, but because they require precise adherence to the rules, or they will come out as sad, dense little muffin-pucks. Some cooks claim that it's best to make the batter a bit ahead and let it rest - something about rehydrating the flour, I think - and I always do, simply for convenience. Here are the rules that make all the difference:

1) Preheat the empty popover or muffin tin. Preheat the hell out of it. I like to put mine into the oven 15 minutes before the roast is due to come out, and then leave it in when I crank the temperature up so that it will be ready to cook the popovers. That baby is hot! If you omit this step, all is lost. Have a dinner roll instead.

2) Preheat the fat. Once the roast is out of the oven, whether you are using roast drippings for a proper pud, or vegetable oil, or some leftover chicken fat that you've got stashed in the freezer (looks at ceiling, whistles to self), get the fat into the blazing hot pan...and put the pan back in the oven, for at least a few minutes, and put the overhead fan on high. If you omit this step, the pan and fat will not be hot enough, and all is lost. Have a dinner roll instead.

3) Add the batter quickly to the hot fat in the cups. Use a pouring jug with a spoon drip-catcher for maximum efficiency (actually, true maximum efficiency suggests that you would have your batter standing by in a squeeze bottle with a large bore opening, but unless you have such a pancake dispenser sort of setup, a jug with a lip (such as a big measuring cup) is your best bet). If you omit this step, the pan will cool down too much, and all is lost. Have a dinner roll instead.

4) Get the tin back into the oven pronto! Do not open the oven door until the puds are cooked - or at least 15 minutes have gone by. If you omit this step, all is lost. Have a dinner roll instead.

5) Marvel at how beautifully risen and crazy tall your popovers are, and serve right away.

A note about using vegetable oil instead of drippings or schmaltz - for the love of dinner, please use something with a really high smoke point, or you will fill your kitchen with acrid burnt-fat smell, and...and all is lost. Have a dinner roll instead.

So...here's the recipe. I really do measure the flour by weight, but if you don't, it's approximately a scant cup of sifted flour)

Yorkshire Puddings

Makes 12 regular-muffin sized

115 grams flour
3 eggs
285 mL 1% milk
1/8 teaspoon kosher salt
3 tablespoons fat (roast dripping, schmaltz, or high-smoke-point oil)

Whisk the eggs, flour, salt, and milk together until smooth to make your batter. Pour the batter into a jug, and let it sit for 30 minutes before you use it.

See the critical steps listed above, or this abbreviated version: Turn your oven up to 475F, and place a dry 12 cup muffin tray in the oven to heat up for at least 5 minutes (or however long it takes the oven to get up to that temperature).

Place 1 teaspoon of fat in each muffin hole, and put the tray back into the oven and heat until fat is very hot, at least another 5 minutes.

Extract the muffin tin and carefully (and quickly!) pour the batter into fat in the muffin cups - only half-fill each cup. This bit kind of looks gross, because the fat swirls all around the batter. That's fine; it's supposed to.

Close the door and cook for 15 minutes without opening the oven door, reduce heat to 350 F and bake for another 5 - 10 minutes, or until golden.



If you have leftover puds, try them for breakfast, gently re-heated and filled with jam, or cheese, or even scrambled eggs! If the exterior is a little squidgy from sitting overnight, blot well with paper towels before heating/filling. They lose their crispness, but they are still delicious.

Breakfast at Work: Coconut Apricot Oatmeal

I'm a big believer in breakfast, as you may have noticed. However, like everyone else, on workdays I'm usually just trying to get out the door on time, preferably with everything I need and wearing matching socks. High standards, I know.

My weekday at-home breakfast is generally a cup of coffee and a piece of toast with something on it (usually cheese, sliced tomatoes, or avocado). Not really the sort of thing that can carry you all the way through your busy morning, but easy to knock together while you're waiting for the coffee to brew. I save the more elaborate breakfasts for the weekend - Monday to Friday, my solution is to rely on a baseline of toast and cheese and then supplement my morning with planned snacks - fruit, almonds, yoghurt - that sort of thing.

Packets of oatmeal are another solution. Not being a fan of paying huge amounts of money for things I can easily and cheaply make myself, I tend to make my own.

Another reason that I don't generally buy the store-bought packets is that the sweet ones are too sweet, the oatmeal is usually cut too fine (and becomes paste-textured, as a result), or they taste artificial to me (even if they're not).

Sometimes I make a bunch up for the week, and sometimes I just make one for the day that I need it. Because it's easy.

My current favourite is Coconut Apricot Oatmeal, but I also like using dried sour cherries and clove, or plain raisins. If you have a bunch of little containers like these (or even sealable plastic bags) it's easy enough to make your own variety pack. Like maple? Use maple sugar. Like walnuts, or almonds, or pumpkin seeds? Toast 'em up and add them to your mix (you'll want to slice or chop the nuts so the pieces are not too big). In fact, maple sugar and toasted walnuts sounds like a pretty tasty option. Go easy on the amount of nuts if you don't want the calories to stack up, though.



Here is the formula:

Coconut Apricot Oatmeal

Serves 1 (makes one packet)

40 grams quick oats (not instant), or old-fashioned rolled oats
1 tablespoon unsweetened coconut
3 dried apricots (scizzored into bits)
1 tablespoon raw sugar
teeny tiny pinch of salt (literally, about 10 grains of kosher salt)

If you are a fan of spices in your oatmeal, you may also want to add a pinch of cinnamon, or ginger, or nutmeg, or other spices (or blends) in the apple/pumpkin pie family. I usually leave them out of this one, because I think they mask the coconut flavour too much, but your mileage may vary.

To make up, empty the contents into a microwave-safe bowl, and add boiling water to about an inch above. Microwave on medium or low power (keep an eye on it - even in a large bowl, it can try to crawl out and down the sides, if the heat is too high or goes on too long). You can add more water if it looks too thick.

If I am using quick oats, it usually only takes about a minute or two at 50% power, then I give it a quick stir and drag it back to my desk. By the time it has cooled enough to eat, it is completely cooked. You can add milk or cream, if you like (I don't - I've never gone for milk on my porridge).

An online recipe calculator gave the results of this recipe at around 160 calories, which is about perfect for a mid-morning snack for me. If you want something a little lighter - use less. Use 30 grams of oats, 2 teaspoons of coconut, 2 apricots. Or just divide the above amount into two containers - the directions are the same.



The ready-to-eat picture doesn't do it justice; camera phone, lousy office-tower lighting, and utterly uninspiring placemat. But it tastes so good.

Tandoori Turkey Meatball Rice Bowl

I confess that I'd hoped that these would be more colourful than they turned out - my masala blend was months old, which I suspect was the problem, and I should have compensated by adding a little turmeric and an extra hit of kashmiri pepper, by the looks of it. However mild in appearance, though, these were absolutely delicious, and made a satisfying dinner.

That being said, these were remarkably easy to make. My standard Pork & Turkey Meatballs got an Indian inspired, all-turkey facelift, replacing the usual herbs and spices with a generous amount of tandoori masala, and using egg white instead of whole egg (I had some to use up).

I scooped the meatballs using my 60 ml disher, and baked them off on a foil-lined baking sheet for 25 minutes:

While they were in the oven, I made a simple pulao, using this Times of India Online recipe for Pulao in a Jiffy The pulao was nice, but overall a little soft, I thought - I used carrots and cauliflower from the recommended vegetables listed, but either I diced them too finely, or used too much water, because they were a little softer than I expected. Not outright mush, you understand, but a bit too soft. I generally find that I need less water when I'm cooking rice than most recipes call for, and that may be the case here - I'm not sure why - some sort of combination of being essentially at sea level, and having very soft water, perhaps? In any event, if I were to make this recipe again, I might go with both larger cut vegetables and a smidge less water. I'd probably throw in a few peas, and an extra few pods of cardamom, too.

When the meatballs came out of the oven, they got a quick brush with hot mango chutney, which went beautifully with the spicy flavour of the meat. As you can see, I also knocked together a quick cucumber and onion raita, and put an extra bit of chutney on the side.

This was a fun dinner (and lunch the next day, and extra meatballs in the freezer for a future rainy day) and while I want to tweak both the pulao and the seasoning of the meatballs (to amp them up into a more deeply fragrant and colourful result), I'm quite looking forward to version 2.0.

Spicy Orange Tofu with Broccoli

The first time I made this, I couldn't find the kind of tofu that I wanted, and I ended up with a pre-seasoned "spicy" tofu that unfortunately was also pre-coloured with orangey red food dye, which turned the entire dish an alarming shade of rust, and made the broccoli look like it was suffering from some sort of disease. Not so very appetizing.

The flavour, however, was exactly what I was looking for, so I persevered, bought the proper kind of tofu (atsuage), and happily devoured the results. This is a wonderful way to get extra vegetables (and fruit) into your evening meal.

Spicy Orange Tofu with Broccoli
Adapted from Eating Well

Serves 4

380 grams atsuage (homestyle fried tofu), blotted dry
1 cup mandarin orange segments
200 g broccoli
2 teaspoons olive oil
1/2 teaspoon vegetable base
1 tablespoon Soy Sauce (less Sodium)
1 tablespoon rice vinegar
1 tablespoon dried orange peel, prepared
1 cup orange juice
1 teaspoon cornstarch
2 teaspoon chile flakes
2 cloves garlic

Combine any juices from the mandarins with the extra orange juice, the soy sauce, and the cornstarch. Stir until smooth, and set aside. Clean the tangerine peel if needed, then rehydrate in hot water for ten minutes, scrape away any pith with a spoon, and slice into thin strips (or dice finely).

Prepare the broccoli by separating the florets and trimming and slicing the stem. Prepare the atsuage by cutting each piece in quarters (corner-to-corner), and then turning and slicing into triangles. Slice the garlic and the ginger.

In a large skillet, over medium-high heat, heat the oil, then add the garlic, ginger, and sliced tangerine peel, and stir through, giving it about half a minute to sizzle. Add the orange juice mixture, the drained mandarin sections, and the broccoli, and stir through. The sauce will start to thicken instantly. Reduce the heat to medium, and place a lid on for about two minutes, or until the broccoli starts to become tender. Stir, and check on the broccoli, giving it another minute if necessary. Add the tofu and stir throughout, gently, adding a little more water if necessary to keep the sauce from disappearing (it should reduce to a nice glaze). Cover, and let the tofu warm up (it is already fully cooked). Sprinkle with the dried chile flakes. Serve over rice, garnished with thinly sliced green onion, if you like.

Kale Gomaae

I've always loved the enticing little dishes of blanched spinach dressed with sesame that one finds in Japanese cuisine. My earliest attempts at making them at home were somewhat laughable - I firmly believed that I shouldn't need to cut the spinach, despite all evidence to the contrary - but what I really disliked was the step of squeezing the water out of the cooked vegetable. I didn't like the squeezing, and I didn't like the look of the spinach after I was done. I was doing it utterly wrong.

Happily, this recipe does not require squeezing of any kind. I make no claims for culinary authenticity, of course, and I must confess that this is ultimately an outgrowth of an Italian recipe for balsamic-glazed kale with pine nuts, of which I am also very fond. I can say without hesitation that this dish is both a delightful addition to any lunchbox that wants a little extra vegetable, and a perfect companion to a rice or noodle based dinner. There are many different dressing recipes for a Japanese gomaae, so if this one doesn't strike your fancy, I suggest that you keep the method and substitute the dressing of your preference.

One of the delightful things about kale is that it is quite sturdy. While it does require a bit of preparation to clean, remove central stalk, and slice the kale (see below), you can do this ahead and keep it crisp and ready for a few days, in a sealed container in the fridge. Then, dishes such as this become a snap to pull off at the last second when you decide that you really should have some sort of vegetable with your chicken teriyaki or tonkatsu, or even miso halibut cheeks.

Kale Gomaae

Serves 2 - 4

250 grams lacinato kale, cleaned and prepared (see below)
1 tablespoon lower sodium soy sauce
1 tablespoon mirin
1 teaspoon sesame oil
1/2 teaspoon honey (or agave)
1 teaspoon sesame seeds, lightly crushed
1/2 teaspoon sesame seeds, for garnish

Combine the soy sauce, mirin, sesame oil, and honey/agave with the crushed sesame seeds. Set aside.

Run cold water over your prepared kale, drain immediately. The water still clinging to the leaves is desirable, to provide steam. In a medium skillet or wok (I use a 9" steel skillet - nonstick is not necessary), over high heat, place the prepared and drained kale and begin to move the kale around as it wilts (I use a silicone spatula). If necessary, sprinkle a little more water over the kale, and continue to stir it around until the leaves start to become tender, but are still bright-looking (well, as bright as "black kale" gets, anyway).

Add the combined sauce mixture, and continue to stir until the dressing has been evenly stirred through and each leaf is lightly dressed. Remove to serving bowls, and garnish with extra sesame seeds.

The kale can be served warm or cold.

I plan to serve it the next time I make the Miso Halibut cheeks mentioned above, in fact (which is likely going to be soon, because that sounds really good). Incidentally, you can see one of my messy spinach gomaae attempts over in that link, too.

How To Prepare Lacinato Kale - in pictures

For long leaves, I cut them in half to make them easier to manage

Cut along the spine of the leaf, as close as you possibly can

Turn the leaf around, slice the spine off and discard

Repeat with the other half of the leaf


Stack the leaves and slice into ribbons

If you want to store them for a few days, use a container with a good seal, and place a dampened paper towel on the top before closing. Store in the crisper of your fridge

Ready to go!

Sweet & Sour Balti Chicken

The most shocking thing about this dish is how quick and easy it is. The second most shocking thing is how delicious it is. The only reason for those two things to be in that order is that you have to make it before you can taste it. Fortunately, that doesn't take long.

Many Indian recipes seem daunting, because they contain a laundry list of spices (possibly some obscure, if you don't have a large spice collection), and a great deal of chopping. Most shortcuts involve pre-packaged sauces that, while convenient, never seem to deliver the right intensity of fragrance that one gets from cooking from scratch.

Now, I should confess straight away that there is in fact a convenience item that makes this whole thing work. If you're fanatical about doing everything from scratch, go ahead and make your own hot mango chutney (I suppose you'd need to make your own tomato paste, too, in that case, but your mileage may vary). If you just happen to have some of your own mango chutney jarred up from a canning session, or lurking in the fridge from a recent previous endeavour, then use that (and I salute you!), but you get a pretty good result from a quality store-bought chutney.

This dish isn't precisely sour in the vinegary way that Chinese sweet and sour can be, but the mango chutney (and the yoghurt) give it a tanginess that skews to the sour side of the palate and offsets the sweetness beautifully. You may want to serve a vegetable side dish (or an aggressive array of side condiments). I recommend curry-roasted cauliflower florets, banana (raita or pachadi), or carrot raita to get some more vegetable matter onto your plate, but you could also add some quick-cooking vegetables, such as peas, half-way through the simmering time.

If, like me, you don't have a balti pan, you can use a wok, which is very similarly shaped. Failing that, you can use a large skillet, which works just fine.

Sweet & Sour Balti Chicken

Serves: 4
Total Prep & Cooking Time: 20 minutes

750 grams chicken (boneless, skinless)
3 tablespoons tomato paste
2 tablespoons plain Greek yoghurt
1 ½ teaspoons garam masala
1 teaspoon cayenne pepper
2 cloves garlic, crushed
2 tablespoons hot mango chutney
½ teaspoon kosher salt
1 teaspoon sugar
3 tablespoons canola oil
¾ cup water
1-2 serrano peppers, thinly sliced
¼ cup cilantro
2 tablespoons Half & Half / light cream

In a medium bowl, combine the tomato paste, yoghurt, garam masala, cayenne, crushed garlic, mango chutney, salt and sugar, and stir until smooth. If your chutney has huge pieces of mango, you may want to chop them up a bit, otherwise leave any chunks whole.

Dice the chicken into bite-sized pieces.

In a large skillet or wok, heat the oil over medium and scrape the tomato-yoghurt mixture into the hot oil. Stir gently but thoroughly, reduce the heat and cook for about 2 minutes, stirring occasionally. The paste and the oil will not truly integrate, but remain partially separated - that's okay.

Add the chicken to the pan, and stir to coat evenly with the tomato mixture. Add the water, and stir gently until the sauce becomes smooth and liquid. Simmer for about 8 minutes, or until the chicken pieces are cooked through and the sauce has thickened slightly. You may lower the heat and add a lid if the sauce is becoming too thick, or add another tablespoon or two of water.

Add half of the serrano chile slices and the light cream, and cook for 2 minutes, stirring gently.

Serve garnished with the remaining chiles and roughly chopped cilantro.

French Crêpes

These simple crêpes are the lovely foundation for many different fillings and styles - from Suzette to seafood, from lemon-and-sugar to stacks of savouries sliced into neat wedges. Some particular favourites include a filling of bacon, mushroom, and chicken (topped with parmesan), and tomato, goat cheese, and fresh basil. You can fill them with pretty much anything you like. These ones are filled with a creamy mixture of bacon, chicken, mushrooms, onion, and brandy. The recipe for the filling is below. The filled and baked crêpes heat up wonderfully the next day. Best of all - these are not difficult. They take a little time if you cook one at a time (recommended, to start), but rather low effort, especially once you get the knack of tilting the pan around.

Crêpes (Plain)

Makes 12 crêpes (8" diameter)
Total Prep & Cooking Time: 40 minutes (faster if you can cook two at a time)

3 eggs
1 cup milk (1% is fine)
1 tablespoon oil
3/4 cup unbleached flour

Combine in a blender or food processor until smooth. If you are beating by hand, you may wish to take the extra step of straining the batter once you have finished mixing, to ensure a smooth result.

If you are making a filling, let the batter stand at room temperature until you finish preparing the filling.

Heat a crêpe pan or 8" (20 cm) nonstick skillet over medium heat until a drop of water dances. Spritz with canola oil, or brush lightly with mild oil of your choice.

Using a ladle or scoop that holds 3 tablespoons, measure your first crêpe's worth of batter. Lift the skillet off of the heat (I hold it in the air) and quickly pour the batter into the middle of the pan. Drop the ladle and rapidly tilt the pan in a circular motion, to spread the batter until it evenly covers the base of the pan. Return the pan to the burner, and allow the crepe to cook until lightly golden, and the edges release from the pan, about a minute or two.

Slide a silicone spatula under the crêpe (or grab the edge carefully with your fingers) and flip it over. Let it continue to cook for a minute, and then slide the crêpe onto your work surface for filling.

Repeat until all of the crêpe batter has been cooked.

If I am making baked crêpes, I fill the finished crêpe and place it in a greased baking dish while the next crêpe is cooking, so the process becomes an alternation of tasks. You can also make the crêpes ahead, and fill them all at once. Crêpes keep well in the fridge for a day or so (unfilled, separated by waxed or parchment paper sheets) and can be frozen for up to a month with no ill effect.



Chicken & Mushroom Crêpe filling

Makes enough to fill 12 8-inch crêpes (enough to serve four people)

4 pieces thick cut bacon
2 tablespoons butter
200 grams cremini mushrooms (or mushrooms of your choice)
450 grams cooked chicken breast
1 medium yellow onion, minced
1 teaspoon chicken bouillon paste
2 tablespoons brandy
3/4 cup Greek style yoghurt, plain (or sour cream)
2 teaspoon cornstarch
1/2 cup water
4 teaspoon grated parmesan cheese
1/4 cup parsley

Dice the bacon and fry until almost crisp, and remove most of the rendered fat from the pan. Add the butter, chopped mushrooms, and onion, and cook until tender. Add the brandy, and stir through, and then add the chicken paste. Add the water mixed with 1 teaspoon of the cornstarch and stir through, and then the and yoghurt mixed with the remaining 1 teaspoon of cornstarch. Stir and cook until the mixture is reduced to a thick creamy sauce. Add finely diced chicken, and stir through until everything is nicely heated.

Lightly grease a 9x13" baking dish, and preheat your oven to 350 F. On your work surface, lay one crêpe golden-side-down, and place two tablespoons of filling on the bottom third of the circle. Fold the bottom edge up, and then roll the crêpe into a compact cylinder. Place in the baking dish. Repeat until all the crêpes are filled and in the pan - they should just fit nicely, ten across and two side-ways. Any leftover filling can be mixed with the parmesan and parsley, and spooned down the centre of the row of crêpes.

Put the pan of crêpes in the oven for about ten minutes, and then broil for a few more minutes, or until the edges are golden-tinged.

Breakfast at home: Chile Corn Breakfast Casseroles

These are individual breakfast casseroles adapted from "Mini Chile Relleno Casseroles" recipe from Eating Well magazine. It's really not that much work, but it does take a bit of time in the oven (time to have a shower, and make coffee, perhaps?) so is best suited for weekends. Chorizo would make a lovely side dish, as would tortillas, johnnycakes, or cornbread.

Chile Corn Breakfast Casseroles
Serves 2

1/2 cup pickled green chiles
1/3 cup frozen corn
1 green onion
1 cup shredded Pepper Jack cheese
1/4 teaspoon ground cumin
1/2 cup 1% milk
3 large egg whites
2 large eggs
1/4 teaspoon salt
pinch dry mustard
Tabasco pepper sauce to taste
1/4 teaspoon paprika (or ground chipotle)

Preheat the oven to 400 F with the rack in the middle of the oven.

Prepare two ramekins (295 ml/10 oz.) by spritzing very lightly with olive oil. Place the ramekins on an edged baking sheet for easy manoeuvring.

Drain the chiles very well, squeeze dry with a paper towel, and mince. Rinse the corn in a strainer under very hot water until thawed. Drain very well, and squeeze dry with a paper towel. Finely mince the green onion. Divide the chiles, corn, green onion, and cheese equally between the two ramekins. Sprinkle with the cumin.

Combine the eggs, egg whites, milk, salt, dry mustard, and Tabasco sauce, and whisk or blend until smooth. Pour the egg mixture over the vegetables and cheese in each ramekin. Sprinkle with paprika (or chipotle, or ancho).

Slide the baking tray with the ramekins into the oven for about 25 - 30 minutes, or until the top is domed and the dish appears set when jiggled. Serve in the ramekins.

Breast of Turducken

Intrigued by the idea of an extravagance like the infamous "turducken", but without the oven space (or the army of people to eat it up)? Why not make a smaller beastie overall by stuffing a turkey breast instead of a whole turkey? After all, Valentine's Day is coming, and if you were wanting a sexy little meal for two, with a bit of extra panache and just a few leftovers for sandwiches or a casserole, then this is the recipe for you.

Sure, it looks difficult, what with the layers and all, but I assure you that it is actually quite simple. It's just showy that way. Best of all, it's really two dishes in one, since the gravy is made from the braising liquid.

My initial inclination was to use duck confit for the "duck" portion of the turducken, but whilst shopping at Oyama Sausage Co., I noticed that they had a special on black truffle duck sausages, and asked myself "What could be fancier than that?" Since sausage is a ground mixture, it also solved the question of how I was going to keep the disparate layers from falling apart when sliced; I simply placed the sausage layer between the flattened turkey and chicken breasts.

Which is, in essence, almost my entire recipe, but for the cooking instructions. You could easily figure the rest out for yourself, I'm sure, but here are the details, just for fun:

Breast of Turducken

Serves 6 - 8

1 large turkey breast (about 750 grams)
250 grams duck sausage
1 large chicken breast (about 200 grams)
1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
1/2 tablespoon peanut oil (or other)
1/2 cup dry vermouth
1 1/2 cups turkey broth
2 tablespoons flour
salt & pepper to taste

Butterfly and pound flat the turkey breast. Take the duck sausage out of its casings, and spread three quarters of it evenly over the inner surface of the turkey. Add the chicken breast (also butterflied and pounded flat) and place the last bit of sausage in a thin line down the centre of the stack. Roll up (in such a way that the centre-line of sausage will run the length of the resulting roulade) and tie with butcher's twine at two-inch (or so) intervals. Rub the surface of the roulade with peanut oil (or olive oil, or grapeseed oil) and sprinkle with salt.

In a large skillet, over medium-high heat, sear the roulade on all sides. Add the vermouth, cover well with foil, and transfer to a preheated oven at 375 F for 1 hour, or until completely cooked (use a probe thermometer to get it to a safe temperature).

While the roulade is in the oven, you can prepare any side dishes that you like. Mashed potatoes are a great one, since you're going to have gravy. Carrots, corn, Brussels sprouts, yams, any or all of these make a fine side to your breast of turducken.

Let stand for 15 minutes on a carving board (loosely tented with the foil) to let rest before slicing. This gives you enough time to make some gravy (not shown, because it obscured the pretty bullseye pattern of the sliced roulade).

If your turkey broth is cold or room temperature to start (you could, of course, also use chicken broth or duck broth), shake it with the flour in a lidded container (holding tightly), and add to the now-empty skillet - do not clean the skillet first! Stir over medium heat until the gravy thickens, scraping up any goodness from the bottom of the skillet. If it is too thick, you can add a little more stock or water, or any vegetable water you might have from, say cooking potatoes, or carrots, or corn, or some other side dish.

If your turkey broth is hot, shake the flour with a little cold water and add it to the skillet after you have added the broth. Feel free to proceed in your usual gravy fashion, if you don't care for either of these methods. Let the gravy simmer very gently on low while you carve the roulade (make sure you remove the strings, first) and plate the rest of the meal, and then pour it into a gravy boat or bowl with spoon and take it to the table.

Venetian Chicken Frisinsal

There is a wonderful, medieval attraction to the notion of tearing apart a roasted chicken with one's bare hands, and this dish can be the wonderful result.

There are quite a few recipes for this floating around, many of which appear to be derivatives of "Tagliatelle W/ Chicken From The Venetian Ghetto" from Nigella Lawson's "How To Eat" or "Tagliatelle Frisinsal" which appears in Claudia Roden's "The Book of Jewish Food" which appears to be its antecedent.

I've adjusted the name into something that makes better sense for the amendments that I've made. Gone is the Tagliatelle, because I'm using broad egg noodles instead (and less of them). Other adjustments include opting in for the parsley which Nigella uses (absent from the original), and roasting the chicken on ribs of fennel (to be discarded after), which adds a subtle perfume to the dish, and lifts the chicken off of the roasting pan.

This is a glorious recipe. It may not look terribly exciting, and it is assuredly not low-fat, but it is wonderfully fragrant and delicious, making it a beautiful comfort food sort of meal.

Venetian Chicken Frisinsal
Serves 4

1 medium chicken
3-4 stalks of fennel
1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
kosher salt, as needed
1 long sprig of fresh rosemary (about 5 inches)
1/3 cup golden sultana raisins
1/2 cup pine nuts
225 grams broad egg noodles

Rub the chicken with olive oil and salt lightly on all sides. Place the chicken, breast side down, onto your roasting pan (I use a large cast iron skillet) which has been lined with enough stalks of fennel to keep the chicken elevated from the bottom of the pan. Roast at 400F for 50 minutes, then turn the chicken breast-side up, and continue to roast until the chicken is completely cooked - 20 minutes to 1/2 hour will do nicely for a 3 pound chicken. Remove the chicken from the roasting pan to a plate, and allow to cool for twenty minutes or so, until it is cool enough for you to remove the chicken from the bones with your bare hands.

While the chicken is roasting (and then cooling), soak the sultanas in a little water for about half an hour, and then drain. Toast the pine nuts until just lightly golden brown - this can be done in a dry skillet on the stovetop, and only takes a few minutes. Mince the rosemary finely, and set aside. Chop the parsley as you like it, and set aside.

While the chicken is cooling, remove the fennel stalks from the roasting pan (let the drippings on them fall back into the pan) and discard. They are stringy and tough, and now overcooked, so there's not much use for them; they have given up their flavour to the chicken juices, which is as good a fate as they could hope for. If you really need to watch your fat intake, pour all of the drippings from the chicken into a bowl, and let the fat rise to the top. Skim off some of the fat as desired. Otherwise, just leave the drippings in the skillet, add the chopped rosemary, the pine nuts, and the drained raisins to the drippings, and bring to a simmer. Next, pour any liquid that has pooled around the chicken (on its cooling plate) into the skillet with the rest of the drippings. Reduce the heat to very low and cover, while you prepare the rest.

Bring a large pot of water up to the boil (for the pasta) while you remove the meat from the chicken. Using your hands, strip the meat and skin from the bones and tear into bite-sized shreds, putting them in a large serving bowl. Be sure to use the crispy skin, as well, but any flabby skin can be discarded with the bones. When all of the chicken is shredded* (you can put the bones aside to make stock or to freeze for later use), quickly cook the pasta (do add a little salt to the water). Egg noodles only take a few minutes to cook, which is handy. Drain the noodles, or use a spider-tool to lift the noodles right from the water onto the shredded chicken meat in the bowl. Pour the sauce of drippings, raisins, rosemary and pine nuts over the top, add the parsley, and toss gently to combine.

I recommend a fresh salad with a bit of crunch, to balance the richness of this dish. Fennel & Radish Salad is about perfect with this (since you already have the fennel).

In the spirit of full disclosure, I note that I actually removed the chicken breast (but not the tender) to a separate plate, because a whole chicken's worth of meat was more than we needed for the four servings of this dish. You could, of course, increase the amount of pasta, use all of the chicken, and feed two to four more people, especially if you had a side dish or two to round it out. The chicken breast that I hived away in this instance made a lovely chicken and fennel white pizza two days later.

*When you are stripping the meat from the chicken, be sure to take the meat from the back of the chicken - especially the two lovely roundish bits referred to as "the oysters" from just above the thighs. This is the closest thing to a tenderloin on a chicken, and is a wonderful bit not to be missed. They are small, firm, intensely flavourful bits of dark chicken meat, sometimes doled out as a special favour, or harboured as a cook's treat.

Breakfast at home: Arepas (rellenas de queso)

I've been wanting to make these for ages, so I finally decided to get to it. After all, they didn't appear to be terribly difficult, and they are an absolute staple of the cuisines of Colombia and Venezuela (with other corn cakes variants throughout the rest of South America).

Naturally, there are an awful lot of versions out there, but I went straight to one of my favourite recipes blogs, My Colombian Recipes, and chose the one that best suited my purpose: arepa rellenas de queso.

As you can see, I was using yellow masarepa, instead of the prescribed white, but as I understand the only difference to be the colour of the resulting arepa, I wasn't worried about it. In fact, the golden colour of the finished arepa looks quite pretty to me, although if I had been eating white ones all my life it might look a little strange. Still, the very fact that the manufacturer makes yellow masarepa, which is, after all, specifically flour for making arepas, gave me all the permission I needed to go ahead.

This is a very simple recipe. In my online perusals, I found versions that had cheese (and sometimes egg yolk) mixed right into the dough, but I thought that it would be better to go with a "straight up" version, and add the cheese after the fact. I can't give you better directions than Erica does over at My Colombian Recipes, so skip on over to this link to get the recipe.

I made a half-recipe, which was three arepas, because I didn't want to have leftovers. Now I understand that they hold up rather well for a day or two (and can be re-purposed to dip into soup, or split, dipped in egg and re-fried), so I will probably make a full batch next time. I also made a note that I could easily turn a half-batch into four arepas (or a full batch into eight), to portion-control the sizes a little more. They are rather filling! The uncooked dough can also be kept in the fridge for a few days, if well wrapped and sealed to prevent it from drying out.

I note that the middles took a little longer to cook than the recipe expressly indicates, but it may have been that my skillet temperature was a bit low (or my arepas were a little thick). It didn't take much longer to get them to a point where I could split them, although splitting hot corn cakes is a tricky business if you want the result to be tidy. I clearly need more practice in this regard. I also note that other recipes suggest covering with a lid at the end or popping the fried arepas into a hot oven, briefly, to ensure that the middles are cooked. If I'm making more arepas with the same amount of dough next time, I suspect they'll be a bit thinner, and cook a bit faster. There's also the temptation of arepitas, which are little bite-sized arepas. Perhaps a fun party food?

As you can see below, we went the "benedict" route for our arepas rellenas de queso. I filled the arepas with monterey jack cheese, and we topped them with steamed eggs and hot sauce. That's fried garlic sausage on the side - hardly culturally accurate (a nice chorizo would have been preferable) - but we had some that needed using up, and we both gravitate toward fried meats at breakfast. Scrambled eggs would have also made a good topping, or avocado slices. Or more cheese!

Winter Salad: Fennel & Radish Salad

Sometimes, I feel an urge to add more vegetables to my dinner. This happens most frequently in the winter, when I'm not gobbling down fruit by the handful, and when summer salad vegetables are both more expensive and no longer at their peak. By late December, I've given up hope on fresh tomatoes until next year.

Salads can feel a little boring, in the winter. The summer vegetables are just too tired to make it through the winter (even if they're available, they have only a fraction of the flavour), and sometimes I forget that there are other kinds of "pure" vegetable salads - that is, without added pasta or grains - than garden, Greek, and chopped.

There are others, sure: there's roasted beet salad (delicious, but which takes quite a bit of time, plus use of the oven), and pear-walnut-blue cheese (costly ingredients, none of which I am likely to have just lying about on any given day), and cabbage slaws (arguably more of a summer salad), and these are all delicious. But this little number here, hand shaved fennel and thinly sliced radishes with an utterly basic vinaigrette - this becomes a winter salad that is fresh, crisp, simple, and something very much to look forward to, during the winter months when fennel (Foeniculum vulgare) is at its peak. Quick and easy to make, this plays nicely as a side dish for those winter dinner blues. Since it's January right now, I might as well also note that this is a nifty little number to help bulwark any resolutions about healthy eating that we may be tempted to let slide right about now...

Fennel & Radish Salad

Serves 4

1 fennel bulb, trimmed of stalks and fronds
8 radishes, trimmed
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 tablespoon sherry vinegar (or white balsamic vinegar)
1/4 teaspoon kosher salt

If you have a mandoline or v-slicer, you can make very quick work of slicing the fennel bulb. Otherwise, I recommend trimming and quartering the bulb, removing the v-shaped core, and then slicing very thinly on the diagonal. For the radishes, slice them in half pole-to-pole, then slice them into very thin half-moons.

Toss the vegetables in a salad bowl (or layer them, which is pretty in a glass bowl). In a small bowl, combine the oil, vinegar and salt, and blend thoroughly. Pour over the fennel and radishes, and refrigerate for 15 minutes (or up to an hour). Decorate sparingly with fennel fronds, if you like. You can eat it right away, of course, but it seems to benefit from a quick chill.

I think making it with sherry vinegar has the best flavour (white wine vinegar was not quite as perky), but it will discolour the crisp whiteness of the fennel, ever so slightly. White balsamic, or champagne vinegars would be good substitutes, if you want to keep the fennel from taking on a beige tinge.

Another addition that would be quite lovely is thinly sliced green apple - added just before serving to prevent discolouration. I think the sweet-tart of the apple would offset the fennel and radish beautifully, and that's how I intend to serve this, next time around.

Khachapuri: Georgian Cheese Bread

There are quite a number of types of khachapuri, and this one is generally referred to as Ajarian (Acharuli/Adjaruli). There are also round Imeruli, kubdari (which also contains meat), Megruli (which has extra cheese on top), Ossuri (also contains potato), and many other intriguing looking variations.

I'd been wanting to try this for ages. As a lifelong fan of all combinations of bread and cheese, and as someone who enjoys a nice eggy filling, in retrospect it's kind of a surprise that it took me this long.

I usually bring freshly made bread to housewarming events. However, I had been eyeing a few recipes with intent* prior to my friend Lisa's housewarming / birthday party, and decided that this Khachapuri recipe (from Everyday Russian) was the perfectly over-the-top bread to bring to the a housewarming party that was also a celebration of a significant birthday.

* When I say "with intent", you can imagine the same sort of intent that a kitty has, when crouched low, eyes fixed on target, and tail twitching with increasing agitation. That kind of intent.

So, in order to prevent myself from chickening out at the last moment, I told everyone that this is what I would bring. And so, I did. Here's the various stages of first-time Khachapuri-making, in pictures:

Mix up the dough (link for recipe) and let it rise - the dough is quite similar to a rich challah dough, full of egg and quite yellow (although, that may depend on your eggs):

Meanwhile, mix up the filling of cheese (I used a combination of grated full-fat mozzarella and crumbled feta), butter, and hard-boiled eggs, mashing everything together into a crumbly mass:

Divide risen dough into four pieces.

Roll out one piece of dough into a large circle, as though you were making a thin pizza crust, and cover the dough with a quarter of the filling, leaving a bare dough perimeter.

Beginning at the near side, start to roll the dough up over the filling, as though you were making a jelly-roll. Stop rolling just before you get to the middle:

Beginning from the far side, roll the dough up over the filling, again stopping before you get to the middle, so that there is a little window of filling:

Pinch and fold the unrolled ends to make a little boat shape:

Place the boats on a foil-lined baking sheet, and let rise for another 20 minutes or so (this step seems to be missing from the original recipe), then brush with beaten egg so that the finished bread will have a shiny golden brown glaze to it:

Bake at 425 F for approximately 20 minutes, or until puffed, golden, and delicious looking.

I failed to take a close up of one of the breads once it was sliced and ready to serve at the party, but I can say with confidence that they were very well received indeed, and definitely take a place of pride as a fun and somewhat unusual (in these parts, at least) item to bring to any event. I'm quite keen to make this again, hopefully soon. I might even devour them all myself!

Apparently, in many places there is a further step of sliding a raw egg into the middles, and putting them back in the oven until the egg is cooked to your liking. This seems to be a breakfast iteration, and is very popular in cafes - which makes perfect sense, as someone else gets to get up early to make the dough. I imagine you could cobble together some sort of advance preparation and hold them in the fridge until ready to cook, but frankly even the idea of that makes me a little nervous, and would take up a lot of precious real estate in my tiny fridge. Perhaps some of the more adventurous bread bakers out there can let me know if they've had success with such a method.

Banana Pineapple Muffins

It wouldn't be wrong to say that these muffins are the flavour of my childhood.

I don't know where my mother got the recipe for these, or what she might have done to any original recipe she might have been working from. "A recipe is an excellent place from which to depart" was pretty much her battle cry in the kitchen. We made all manner of variations on this, though. Very strict naming protocols do apply: if you leave out the banana, for example, it becomes Un-Banana Pineapple Muffins. If you decide to make a tea loaf instead of muffins, they become Banana Pineapple Un-Muffins. I even recall a singular day when we had Un-Banana Un-Pineapple Un-Muffins. I think my father might have been suspicious as to what exactly was still in those ones.

These are a homely little muffin - not winning any beauty pageants, but a solid coffee/tea/snack break workhorse and (clocking in at about 200 calories per) for far fewer calories than even the driest of coffee-chain muffins. Pep them up with a 15 second blast in the microwave after the first day.

Banana Pineapple Muffins

Makes 12 regular sized muffins

3/4 cup golden sugar
1/2 cup canola oil
1 egg
2 ripe bananas, mashed
1/2 cup crushed pineapple, drained
1 1/2 cups whole wheat flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/8 teaspoon salt (I use Kosher salt)

Mix ingredients in order given, being careful not to over-mix. Spoon batter into lightly spritzed muffin cups.

Bake at 350-375 F for about 20 minutes, and use a toothpick test for doneness (an inserted toothpick should come out clean). If you like, add a little nutmeg or cinnamon to the batter and sprinkle some on top as well, before baking.

My sister reports that adding two (heaping) tablespoons of cocoa powder and a quarter cup of large flake coconut makes a wonderful variation, and I'm looking forward to giving that one a whirl myself.