Watermelon and Mint Martini

 

Watermelon and Mint Martini

 
It is a sad fact that us Brits cannot cope with hot weather. It’s just not in our DNA. The sun pokes it head through our normally grey sky and suddenly men and women are wearing outrageously inappropriate clothing on public transport, as their exposed shoulders gently turn the colour of cooked lobsters. People whose usual idea of cooking is to pop a pizza in the oven decide that they are expert BBQ chefs, donning aprons with smutty slogans on and giving everyone food poisoning by sloshing the marinade used for the raw meat all over the bits that are cooked. 

Our rail tracks buckle, our parks frazzle and no shop can keep up with the demand for ice. That picnic with your family in the park that sounded like such a great idea rapidly unravels into a bitch-fest as people get cramp, get stung, get bored and get drunk. It’s not pretty. 

Fortunately, there are alternatives to these potential hazards of summertime. Deciding that hot pants are not a great look for the office and avoiding any picnic without waiter service are a good start. 

More positive still is to have a really cracking summer cocktail up your sleeve which is both delicious and genuinely refreshing. The ubiquitous Aperol Spritz is still alive and kicking (although when hideous chain pubs start serving it, it might be a sign to move on), but I urge you to try this absolutely delicious concoction of watermelon, mint and vodka, given to me several years ago by the Head Barman of the, now sadly defunct, Boxwood Cafe in London. It is so simple it barely warrants a recipe but this is a cooking blog so I need to give you one, just to make myself feel useful. 

Watermelon really does live up to its name as it is made up of about 92% water. This is very important for summer drinking, as it’s mainly dehydration caused by alcohol consumption that gives you that awful headache at about 4pm on a Saturday afternoon after deciding to drink rose wine from midday onwards. The water content in the watermelon in this recipe will help mitigate this. I only say help, not eliminate so please drink responsibly, keep hydrated, blah, blah, blah. 

The mint in this recipe is a brilliant compliment to the watermelon and makes the drink doubly refreshing. Temperature is key so make sure everything is as cold as possible before you partake. 

You can make this martini in a cocktail shaker if you want to look very efficient but this method means you can make a whole jug at a time, which can only be a good thing for everyone. 

Watermelon and Mint Martini

Makes 4

Ingredients

400g watermelon, roughly chopped into chunks

Handful of mint leaves

200ml good quality vodka

Watermelon slices for garnish

Method

If you have a juicer, juice the mint and watermelon together. If not, blend the watermelon and mint in a blender or with a hand held blender until smooth. Strain through a fine sieve.  Chill the juice until it is ice cold. 

Add the vodka, stir and serve in chilled martini glasses, with a slice of watermelon on the side. 

Chicken Caesar Salad

Chicken Caesar Salad

I find food phobias quite amusing. I’m talking about phobias, as opposed to allergies. Proper allergies (unlike those that people invent for themselves because they read somewhere that Beyonce is allergic to crumpets and that eliminating them from her diet has, literally, changed her life) can be awful. As someone who lives with someone with a severe fish allergy, I know from bitter experience that real food allergies are not at all funny.

Phobias are very different. People often convince themselves that they dislike a food, even if it turns out they have never tried it. Apparently it takes children up to 15 times to be offered a food before they might grow to accept it and like it. A friend of mine maintains that she absolutely cannot eat raspberries because she hates the texture of the pips, but is quite happy to slather her toast with raspberry jam and not the seedless variety.

Sometimes your tastes change, adapt and generally mature. As a child I hated olives, despite my mother’s dogged perseverance with me. When I was about sixteen, I decided to try them again and realised I loved them. In contrast, I have tried in vain to like and appreciate coffee for many years without success. I have tried it in every form; strong, weak, iced, sweet. I have tried, but it still makes me gag. I suppose the suggestion is to keep trying things, even the things you believe you do not like. You may find you like them, you may not, but an appreciation of a wide range of flavours and textures in food is a wonderful thing.

Anchovies are a frequently mentioned phobia in food. Fresh anchovies are one thing, but the type that most of us come across most are the cured or marinated sort that often come in flat tins or glass jars in oil. A lot of people are convinced they cannot stand them.  They are a highly flavoured food, deeply savoury and intensely salty and so are not to many people’s taste. I am not convinced when I see chefs proclaim that if you melt anchovies into hot oil while preparing a dish, you won’t taste them, they will just add depth to the dish. This really isn’t true. The whole point of marinated anchovies is the strength of the taste. Lamb, slow cooked with anchovies is wonderful, but it still tastes of anchovies. Personally, I love them, but I do appreciate they are just too much for some people. They are certainly one of those foods that you may learn to love as you grow older, even if you hated them when you first tried them.

Despite its Roman name, Caesar Salad was invented in 1924 in Tijuana, Mexico by a restaurateur by the name of Caesar Cardini. During prohibition, he found his restaurant flooded by booze-seeking Americans. To relieve the pressure on his kitchen he decided that this popular salad would be prepared at the table by the waiters instead. It was a very theatrical show, especially as the use of a raw egg as part of the dressing was seen as exciting and controversial.

Purists might protest at the addition of items such as chicken, bacon and extra cheese, but I think a shredded, plain cooked chicken breast works very well, as it adds substance but has a soft enough flavour to still let the dressing shine. It is the dressing that makes this salad special. The thick and creamy consistency coats the leaves beautifully. This, along with the freshness of the lettuce and the crunch of croutons makes for every mouthful being exciting and always a bit different. Anchovies are a fundamental part of the dressing of any reasonably authentic version of Caesar Salad. You can try using a few dashes of Worcestershire Sauce instead (which contains anchovies anyway) or leave them out if they cause you too much trauma, but give it a go. You might just like it.

Chicken Caesar Salad

Serves 2

Ingredients

– 1 free-range egg

– 2 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil

– 1/2 crushed garlic clove-less if it’s a large clove

– 3 tbsp grated parmesan cheese

– juice ½ lemon

– ½ tsp sea salt flakes or ¼ tsp pouring salt (use none if you add anchovies)

– 1 Romaine or Cos lettuce

– 1 cold roast chicken breast

– freshly ground pepper

For the croutons

– 200g ciabatta bread

– 2 tbs olive oil

– 1 clove of garlic, crushed

 

Method

First make the croutons. Preheat the oven to 180ºC. Tear the bread into rough, mouth size chunks. Crush the garlic into the olive oil and drizzle over the ciabatta. Mix well so all the pieces of bread are coated. Spread in a single layer on a baking tray. Bake for about 15 minutes, turning halfway, until the pieces are golden and crispy.

If you are using anchovies, put them in a bowl and mash them to a thick paste. Crack the egg into a bowl and mix with the anchovies. Add the oil slowly while whisking so the dressing emulsifies. Stir in the lemon juice and garlic and taste. Season if necessary. You will definitely need to add salt if you are not using anchovies.

Tear the lettuce into pieces. Toss in the dressing so the leaves are evenly coated. Add the parmesan and toss again. Tear the chicken into strips and add to the salad. Sprinkle over the croutons, adding a few extra shavings of parmesan if you like. Serve immediately.

Kitchen Tip #18 Wine Ice Cubes

Chilled White Wine

 It’s hot. Yes, not much of a revelation, but one which causes us Brits various and many problems every time the temperature goes up just a little; from melting train lines, to drought, to flooding.

One such less than major issue is how to keep a cold glass of wine chilled on a very hot day. Some would say only pour a little at a time (impractical), stand inside or in the shade (not likely) or add ice (unthinkable!!!!!).

Now ice has its place; in a spritzer it is a must, but a spritzer can be made with any old plonk. To add ice to good wine is akin to eating truffles with tomato ketchup. I have only done it once and regretted it-not the truffle thing obviously.

Purists may still baulk at my suggestion, but one solution is to make ice cubes with the wine itself. This must, needless to say, be the same wine as you are drinking. This way, the melting cube is of the same taste with no dilution, but just a throughly chilled and unadulterated glass of something lovely. Cheers.

Really Rapid Raspberry Jam

Raspberry Jam

As many people often do, I sometimes imagine that I live my life elsewhere; that my kitchen is a vast and impressive place, where the gigantic and perfectly temperature controlled larder is brimming with every type of ingredient you could want and cupboards are full of regimentally ordered and beautifully labeled jars and vintage glass containers found, quite by chance in a Parisian flea market.

As the overflowing contents of my cupboards regularly fall out top of my head, I am rudely thrown back to reality and I curse my eternal lack of kitchen space. It is at the point now where I have to store half my pans in the bathroom cupboard. I am not living in a bucolic farmhouse with acres of land for the chickens and homegrown radishes, but in a small flat with an even smaller kitchen in South-West London. A life of whimsy and back-lit with nostalgia this is not.

It is, however, amazing what you can achieve in even the tiniest of kitchen spaces. I do find that having a few jars of homemade jam on a shelf does go a tiny way to imagining you have an ordered and organised kitchen, especially if you squint and avoid looking at anything else at the same time. I would add a caveat to this recipe, that I would not usually extol the virtues of raspberries so early in the season; June and July are time for sumptuous strawberries and raspberries are a later treat. However, the mild weather seems to have brought a batch of very good English raspberries to the shops and markets at the moment. Please taste them if you can before you buy; a promisingly deep ruby raspberry, that promises so much can deliver very little. If you want to be safe, save this recipe until the end of August and September, when wonderful Scottish raspberries will put in a much-appreciated appearance.

I have written about making jam before, but I wanted to include this particular jam recipe as I could not believe that it was so fast to do. The difference in this recipe is the use of specialist jam sugar-i.e sugar with added pectin. I know, I know- I have said before; you do not have to use jam sugar. If you boil most jam long enough it will come to setting point and I have had a few unhappy incidents with jam sugar that has given the sugar such an unyielding texture, it is like trying to spread wall filler. However, further experiments have shown that it is possible to use jam sugar and still have a lovely loose set for your jam. By happy accident, it is also ridiculously fast, but the margin for error is small, so you need to be even more vigilant than usual to avoid jam bouncier than a trampoline.

For some reason, jam sugar seems to make the jam mixture spit even more viciously when it boils, so please be careful. Wear something that covers your arms at the very least. It is best to do this jam in two batches if you do not have a very large pan, just to be safe. There is also a distinct possibility that your kitchen will look very much like a homicidal crime scene by the time you have finished. Not really a scene that conjures up the W.I and village fairs, but you can’t have everything.

Really Rapid Raspberry Jam
makes 4 large jars

Ingredients

1kg raspberries
800g jam sugar
juice of 1 lemon
a knob of butter

Method

First, sterilise your jars; wash the jars and lids in hot soapy water, rinse and put in an oven set to about 140°C while you make the jam.

Put a saucer in the freezer.

Put the raspberries in the largest pan you have. Do not wash them unless you absolutely have to, as the water will affect the resulting jam.

Raspberries in the pan

Take a potato masher and mash them a bit. If you do not like lot of pips in your raspberry jam-now is the time to sieve some out.

Mashed raspberries

Add the sugar and lemon juice and heat very slowly, stirring all the time, so the jam melts down evenly and without crystalising.

Raspberries with melting sugar added

When the sugar has completely dissolved, bring the heat up to high. Keep stirring the mixture until the mixture is boiling. This is the potentially scalding part as the mixture will rise high up as it boils and look quite volcanic.

Boil for 5 minutes (make sure you use a timer), then take the pan off the heat, add the butter and get your saucer out of the freezer. Place a small dollop of the mixture onto it. Leave it a moment and then push the edge of the dollop gently with your finger. If the surface wrinkles, your jam has reached setting point, if it doesn’t, put the pan back on the heat and boil for another minute-no more. Repeat the saucer test until the surface of the mixture wrinkles on the saucer and you can see the jam has set.

Take the pan off the heat and leave it to rest for 15 minutes. At the same time, take the jars out of the oven, being careful not to touch the inside of the jar or the lids with your fingers or a cloth. You need the jars warm when you fill them, as cold jars will crack when filled with hot jam.

After fifteen minutes, use your funnel, or a large spoon, to put the jam into the jars. The mixture will still be really hot. Fill to the brim and place a waxed disc on top. Screw the lid on tightly and leave to cool completely.

This jam will last for up to a year if kept in cool place and out of direct sunlight. Once opened, it should be stored in the fridge.

Summertime Scones with Strawberry & Basil Compote

Scones with Rapid Strawberry & Basil Compote

Scones, strawberries and cream. There are few other combinations of words that give off that warm glow of hazy, summery days than this. A cream tea sums up so much about what is wonderful about the British summertime, although they have been arguing in the South West for years about whether to serve your jam topped with your cream, as they do in Cornwall, or your cream topped with jam, as they do in Devon. Personally I think it is just plain wrong to put the cream on top of the jam, but that’s just me.

In terms of how to eat your cream tea, I would never be so presumptuous as to tell you how you should do it. If you want whipped cream or clotted, it is your choice (although if you are in possession of a can of squirty cream, you should hand yourself in for crimes against food). If you are feeling really outrageous(!), you could have raspberry jam rather than strawberry. Fruit scones or plain? Be a rebel and go for both. The pleasures of a cream tea are infinite in variety.

I am going to throw in a curveball here. It all started when, after lovingly making fresh scones and purchasing clotted cream, I discovered that someone (probably me to be fair) had eaten the last of the jam. I have posted about how to make jam before. I had a punnet of strawberries in the fridge, but it is not a quick job to make jam, nor is it really worth it unless you are doing a big batch. Undeterred, I immediately thought of strawberry compote.

A compote is basically any kind of fruit, simmered with sugar and eaten while still fresh and zingy. It is not as sweet or thickly set as jam, as it has less sugar and more fruit. Arguably, you can make compote without sugar at all, but for scones, you definitely need the extra sweetness to offset the deep richness of the cream. My eyes then alighted on the pot of basil sitting on my kitchen windowsill. Basil and strawberries are a combination of food dreams, each bringing out the flavour of the other in a quite marvellous way. Basil is very delicate-if you store it in the fridge it will go black very quickly-no matter how the supermarkets advise you to store it. It is at it’s best when it is added right at the end of any recipe, so it can add all it’s wonderful flavour. It is, therefore, a highly unsuitable ingredient for a jam as the rapid boiling would destroy all it’s fragrance, but added to a compote when it has cooled, it is perfect. I will warn you now that this is a highly messy way of eating scones-compote is runnier than jam and so you will certainly need a napkin tucked into your shirt before starting to eat this.

If you have never made scones before, I urge you to give them a go. They taste so different warm from your own oven to the brick-like texture you can get from those packets in the supermarket. They also take about 30 minutes from start to eating. If you have never baked anything, scones are a very good place to start. You can customise them in any way you want; add some sultanas, lemon zest or even chocolate chips if you want a true sugar overload. The finish of the top of the scone is also something you can control if you make them yourself. Before you put them in the oven, you can dust them with flour for a soft top, paint with milk for a more crunchy top or paint with egg for a really crunchy crust.

Be gentle when laying them on a baking sheet. Give them enough room to spread a little and rise a lot.

Scones about to be baked.

As son as they are out of the oven, put them on a wire rack to cool. It is best to serve them warm, but not piping hot, as they will just crumble apart.

Scones cooling on a rack.

This recipe is based on the one found in the Leith’s Baking Bible. Rubbing the butter into the flour really is the most technical part; it simply means taking the lumps of butter between your fingers and rubbing your fingers together into the flour until the texture is like breadcrumbs and you cannot feel any big lumps of butter anymore. If you cannot bring yourself to do that, you can use a food processor to whizz the butter in. I have used this recipe over and over again and it always works. Except the time I use plain flour-then it didn’t work at all. Made nice biscuity things though.

Scones with Strawberry & Basil Compote
Makes 6 scones

Ingredients

For the scones
225g Self Raising flour
½ tsp salt
55g butter
150ml milk
30g sugar (optional)

For the compote
400g Strawberries, washed and chopped in half
100g caster sugar
2 tbs fresh basil leaves, as finely chopped as you can

Method

First make the compote. Pop the strawberries and sugar into a large pan and heat gently until the sugar starts to melt. Turn up the hat until the mixture is rapidly boiling. Boil for about 5-10 minutes. Take off the heat and leave to cool. When cold, add the chopped basil. The consistency should be like a very soft set jam. Leave to the side, but do not refrigerate or the basil will go black.

Preheat the oven to 220°C.

Add the salt to the flour, sifted into a large mixing bowl. Rub the butter into the flour. Stir the sugar (if using) into the flour/butter mix.

Add the milk into the flour mixture and mix it in with a knife. You want it to combine without stirring it too much.

Place the dough onto a floured surface, pat down with floured hands and lightly roll the surface using a floured rolling pin to make it even. Aim for about 3cm depth.

Using a floured cutter, press down firmly and gently lift out the shapes onto a lined tray.

Brush the tops gently with a little milk; you don’t need a pastry brush, fingertips will do, but try to avoid the milk running down the side of the scone as it will impede the rise.

Bake the scones for between 12 and 15 minutes, until golden on the top.

Serve warm with clotted cream, topped with the compote and a few fresh strawberries on the side. The scones will keep in an airtight container for a day or so, but are best eaten the day they are made, as is the compote.

Greek Salad with a Feta Dressing

Greek Salad with Feta Dressing

 

When it is hot weather, simplicity is often the key; no-one wants to spend time making intricate creations over a hot stove when a beautiful sunny evening stretches out in front of you. Good food is often about balance; when it is blisteringly hot (admittedly more frequent in Greece than in England), your body needs salt and water to remain balanced and cope with the heat. This is why a Greek salad is such a brilliant invention; the water, and therefore refreshment, comes from the cucumber and tomatoes, while the salt and savouriness  is given from the feta.

Greek salad is hardly an undiscovered dish; as with any food which is well known around the world it can be wonderful. It can also be truly awful. Large chunks of hard tomato with tasteless olives and little dressing do not a good Greek salad make. That’s why now is a great time to make this salad; British cucumbers are wonderful at the moment and amazing, local tomatoes are coming into their own. These simple, everyday ingredients add so much flavour. The temperature is also on the rise; this is the perfect supper for warm nights and lazy afternoons.

A huge amount of the appeal of a Greek salad comes from the intensely salty feta cheese. Generally, it is made with sheep’s milk, but it can be made with goat or a combination of the two. The better fetas are aged (but not ripened) 4 to 6 weeks, cured in a salty whey and brine and it becomes sharper and saltier with age. It is creamy white in colour with small holes, a crumbly texture and a spiky, rich creamy taste which is quite unique. Brands can taste very different and you may need to try a few before you find the one you like; it should be punchy, salty and mouthwateringly creamy in flavour whichever one you choose.  In this dish, I have used the feta as part of the dressing, rather than simply plonking a slab of it on top of the salad. It works incredibly well, as it coats every mouthful with a rich silkiness while still being wonderfully refreshing.

There are not many ingredients in this salad, so take a little time to pick the best you can. I like small plum tomatoes but any type with a great flavour will work well. I also like olives stored in oil which are not stoned. I find the flavour is better if the stones are left in; just make sure you remind people before they start to eat to avoid any dental disasters. A good, peppery extra virgin olive oil is also essential. Oh, and make sure you check the date of your dried herbs; people tend to think that dried herbs last forever (a certain relative of mine, who will remain nameless, has dried thyme in their cupboard with a use-by date on of March 2001). Dried herbs will not go off or bad, but over time they will lose a lot of their potency and flavour. If you use dried herbs that are more than a year old, you may have to use double the amount to get the same hit of flavour. If they are older than two years, you will generally get more flavour into your dish by using the contents of the hoover bag.

Personally, I am not a fan of raw onion in anything. In this recipe, I soak the slices of raw onion in the vinegar beforehand. In doing this, the onion loses all it acrid burn and overpowering aftertaste while becoming more delicate, fragrant and still slightly crunchy. Doing this also turns the onions a beautiful translucent pink. However, if you like your onions with a bit more bite, please feel free to leave them as they are.

This salad is best served as soon as it ready, but if it needs to stand a little while, remove the watery core of the cucumber before you chop it and do not add any salt until just before you serve it to avoid a watery puddle of dressing at the bottom of the bowl.

Clearly, a recipe such as this should be eaten on a deserted beach, under an umbrella on a shimmeringly hot day. Not really likely in London, but we can dream.

Greek Salad with Feta Dressing
Serves 4

Ingredients

200g feta (one packet/block)
2 whole cucumbers
1 red onion
500g tomatoes at room temperature
about 40 black olives-preferably Kalamata
6 tbs extra virgin olive oil
100ml red wine vinegar
1 tbs dried mint
2 tbs dried oregano
salt and pepper to taste

Method

Chop the onions into thin half moon crescents, place in a bowl and pour over the vinegar. leave to soak for at least half an hour, stirring occasionally.

Now make the dressing. Pour the olive oil into a bowl and add 2 tbs of the vinegar from the onions, crumble the feta into the bowl and mix well so the feta starts to meld into the dressing. It will not all melt in, but the dressing will look creamier, with small shards of feta in it. Now add the mint and oregano. Taste and add more herbs if necessary.

Chop the cucumber into bite size chunks, halve the tomatoes. Place in a  large bowl with the olives and drained red onion. Pour over the dressing and mix very well. Taste and add black pepper and salt if needed. Add more oregano or more onion vinegar if you wish.

Serve with warm pitta or flat bread.

Chocolate & Raspberry Pavlova

Chocolate & Raspberry Pavlova

There are some things which are just so right when the sun shines in summer; a proper, creamy Italian gelato in a sugar cone, new flip flops which don’t cause you blisters, a glass of white wine so chilled the glass glistens with condensation or sitting in a park or woodland until 9pm just because you can. Summer eating should be about light pasta sauces, interesting and unusual salads, chilled soups and ice creams. What is also perfect in summery weather is a pavlova. In the winter I want dark, rich, steaming puddings, oozing with sauce and hot custard. But in the summer, when you want something a bit more interesting than another bowl of fruit salad, not much beats a pavlova with it’s meringue that is crunchy on the outside and fluffy marshmallow on the inside, topped with whipped cream and fruit; it’s a gem of a pud for a time when the sun shines for longer and you’re not having to sit next to a radiator to keep warm, which is often the case in this country.

Following on from my earlier post about how to make the perfect meringue; many people I know are scared of making meringues, but if you follow a few rules, it is very simple really. Once you have tasted the real thing, you will never go back to buying them from the supermarket again.

British raspberries, particularly Scottish ones, are one of the greatest fruits we produce. Their delicate, fragile structure means they have to be eaten very quickly after they are bought. Luckily this is not a problem in my house. They are perfect just as they are, but doing that would make this post about them pretty boring, so here is one of my favourite ways to scoff them.

I cannot take the credit for this recipe, as it is a very close relation to one which Nigella Lawson published in Forever Summer. I feel the need to share it here, as it is a something I have made so many times, always with a fantastic reaction. It is really simple to prepare and if you make the meringue the night before, the assembly is a matter of moments. The combination of chocolate and raspberries is obviously wonderful from a visual, as well as a taste point of view. The blood-like redness of the raspberries looks stunning against the snowiness of the cream and the deep darkness of the meringue. This chocolate meringue works equally well with any other berry of your choice. You can also make a white chocolate version without the cocoa powder and with 75 g of chopped white chocolate; this is very sweet, so works best with a tarter tasting berry like redcurrants. You can also use this recipe to make individual portions; just bake them for a little less time.

You can make the meringue base in advance, but do not add the cream until the last minute, or the meringue might collapse. This will obviously not change it’s luscious flavour, but it won’t look quite so beautiful. Use the freshest berries you can find and chocolate with a cocoa content of no less than 70%.

Chocolate & Raspberry Pavlova

serves 8

Ingredients

6 large egg whites

300g caster sugar

3 tbs cocoa powder, sieved

1 tsp balsamic vinegar

50g dark chocolate, finely chopped

500 ml double or whipping cream

500g raspberries

3 tbs dark chocolate, grated

Method

Heat the oven to 180°C and line a baking tray with baking parchment.

Beat the egg whites until fluffy and then add sugar a spoonful at a time until the mixture is stiff and shiny. Add the cocoa, vinegar and the chopped chocolate. Then gently fold everything until the cocoa is thoroughly mixed in. Heap the mixture onto a baking sheet in a circle. Put in the oven, then turn the temperature down to 150°C and cook for about one to one and a quarter hours. When it’s ready it should look crisp around the edges and on the sides and be dry on top, but when you push it gently, you can feel a softness underneath. Turn off the oven and open the door slightly, and let the meringue cool completely.

Place the cold meringue on a large serving dish. Don’t worry if it cracks a little-a pavlova is not meant to look pristine. Whisk the cream until thick but still soft and pile it on top of the meringue, then scatter over the raspberries. Grate the chocolate over the top and serve as soon as possible.

Jam for Tea

Jam for Tea!

‘Doubtless God could have made a better berry, but doubtless God never did’. Dr William Butler

We all hold this nostalgia-tinged idea of the perfect British summer’s day; hazy golden sunshine, picnics in the park with no wasps, ice-cold Pimms, tennis and, of course, perfect strawberries. Even for those who would never go near a pick-your-own, everyone seems to be able to remember a day from the past when strawberries were so sweet and juicy that they tasted like the very essence of the summer.

I sit here typing this on what should be just such a beautiful June afternoon; however, in what has become the norm these last few years, it is raining, grey and dreary. In the hope of evoking part of what is part of the sepia-tinged dream of a perfect British summer, I turn to strawberries.

Now is the very best time to buy and eat British strawberries. The season started a little late this year due to all the rain, but now it is in full flow. When choosing strawberries, look out for Sonata, Sweet Eve and Eve’s Delight, all of which are high in natural sugar with a gorgeous perfume and longer shelf life than some other types. Avoid at all costs the ubiquitous Elsanta, which accounts for a staggering 80% of all supermarket sales of strawberries in the UK. This is because they are cheap and easy to grow-even if they seem to look and smell great, please don’t be fooled. They have a habit of tasting like wet cotton wool rather than a fruit; they are a poor substitute for the real thing.

Beautiful English strawberries

If, like a lot of people, you can’t get to a pick-your-own, the best places to get strawberries are usually farmer’s markets; instead of a hefty £2.50 for a tiny punnet of Elsanta awfulness in the supermarket, I got four boxes of beautiful Sonata strawberries for £3 the other day. Look for berries that are unblemished and bright red with fresh-looking green leafy caps. The fruit should be not too firm and not too soft (there should be no dampness on the bottom of the container). The scent is a brilliant indicator of quality and should be slightly floral, fresh and almost uplifting in its sweetness. Smaller strawberries often have more flavour, but do not discount the big juicy ones either. They are a fruit that absorbs water really easily and so it is best not hull them before they are washed.

Of course, when strawberries are as good as this, they need nothing added to them to make them sublime to eat. A little cream, perhaps some vanilla ice-cream. It is easy to while away the summer doing just this and suddenly, come September, they are gone for another year.

To ease this inevitable dissapointment, I have been experimenting with the oldest way of bringing a bit of the wonderful parts of the English summertime to any grey day. In other words, jam. I want all the perfumed, sticky sweetness that only good jam can bring. Good bread and jam-what could be better?

I know what you are thinking; it’s just too much hassle, too difficult and fiddly, with expensive thermometers, sterilising and scary boiling sugar. Anyway, who has time to make their own jam these days? Until quite recently, I thought the same thing, especially as I thought I was quite happy with the jam I was buying from the local deli. However, I was converted when I realised how simple and quick it is to do. In total honesty, this recipe is genuinely very easy and the result is better than anything you can buy. I have found that you do not need special jam sugar, a jam thermometer or an expensive preserving pan. All you need is the biggest stainless steel pan you have, as the jam bubbles up quite alarmingly as you boil it, any kind of glass jars you may have accumulated and some great fruit. The only ‘specialist’ equipment you might want to use are the small waxed discs you can find in a lot of supermarkets and in any kitchen shop. These stop the jam getting any mould on the top, but this shouldn’t be a problem if you sterilise the jars properly. In any case, it will probably have been eaten before there is a chance of any mould growing. It also saves a lot of mess if you have a funnel of some sort, but you can manage without one.

You can also add any other flavours that take your fancy and you will end up with a jam you could never buy in the shops. you can add raspberries, blueberries or redcurrants. you can even add a slosh of Prosecco or Champagne if you are feeling flush. What you must not do is leave out the lemon; jam needs something called pectin to set. This is the secret ingredient in jam sugar, but there is enough pectin in the lemon juice to make this jam set. You can use jam sugar if you want the reassurance, but I find it gives quite a tough set to the jam.

At the risk of sounding like a 1950s housewife, it is also nice to feel a bit smug and terribly domesticated to have someone taste it and ask where you bought it. ‘Oh this, it’s homemade actually.’ I have seen lots of really cute labels and fabric covers to use on your jars-I love these but for some reason, all I seem to be able to stretch to are Post-It notes which keep coming off. Oh well, I obviously must work harder on this domestic goddess thing.

Strawberry and Vanilla Jam

makes about 4 average sized jars

Ingredients

1kg strawberries, washed and hulled

800g caster sugar

Juice of 2 lemons

2 vanilla pods, seeds scraped out

Method

First, sterilise your jars; this simply means washing the jars and lids in hot soapy water, rinsing and popping in an oven set to about 140°C while you make the jam. Nothing scary.

Put a saucer in the freezer.

If you have a blender, blitz the sugar and the whole vanilla pods together so you have a beautifully speckled vanilla sugar. If you don’t, just scrape the seeds into the sugar and mix, adding the pods as well. Put your strawberries in the pan and cover with the sugar. Keep about 10 of the smallest strawberries back so they stay whole-an unknown treat in bought jam. Leave overnight if you have the time, otherwise, an hour will do.

Add the lemon juice, take a potato masher or fork and roughly mash the strawberries and sugar together. It is better if you keep some texture to the strawberries rather than bash them to a puree. Add the reserved whole strawberries and put the pan on a very gentle heat and stir gently. It’s really important to melt the sugar slowly, otherwise the jam will have sugar crystals in it.

When the sugar has completely dissolved,bring the heat up to high. Keep stirring the mixture until the mixture is boiling. This can be the alarming bit-the mixture will rise high up as it boils and look quite volcanic.

Boiling the jam

Keep the mixture at a roiling boil for about 20 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Take the pan off the heat and get your saucer out of the freezer. Place a small dollop of the mixture onto it. Leave it a moment and then push the edge of the dollop gently with your finger. If the surface wrinkles, your jam has reached setting point, if it doesn’t, put the pan back on the heat and boil for another 3-4 minutes. Repeat the saucer test until the surface of the mixture wrinkles on the saucer and you can see the jam has set.

Take the pan off the heat and leave it to rest for 15 minutes. At the same time, take the jars out of the oven, being careful not to touch the inside of the jar or the lids. You need the jars warm when you fill them, as cold jars will crack when filled with hot jam. I know this from bitter experience.

After fifteen minutes, use your funnel, or a large spoon, to put the jam into the jars. Do be careful, as the mixture will still be really hot. Fill to the brim and place a waxed disc on top. Screw the lid on tightly and leave to cool completely.

This jam will last for up to a year if stored in cool place, out of direct sunlight. Once opened, it must go into the fridge.

 

http://www.appliancesonline.co.uk/summer-lovin

A Variation on Pappa al Pomodoro

Pappa al pomodoro

It often occurs to me that I get ridiculously excited about food. More than excited, over-excited like a child. It’s quite pathetic really. However, I make no apologies for getting excited about this recipe. Yesterday I came across the first lot of tomatoes I have seen this year that actually look like they might taste of more than wet cardboard. They were British, blood red and smelt like the best greenhouse you can imagine. I have a big thing about tomatoes; I refuse to buy them in the winter, as any expectation of taste is always defeated and it just upsets me buying food out of season anyway, as it always a disappointment.

Traditional Pappa Al Pomodoro is a rustic Tuscan bread and tomato soup, created to use up a glut of tomatoes and stale bread; it is thick, unctuous and made to fill you up as it comes from a traditionally poor area of Italy where, at times, there was bread and there were tomatoes, but not much else. It was important not to waste anything, so this recipe became a wonderful way of using up stale and leftover bread. As always in Italian recipes, it has many variations from household to household. It can be made to eat as a soup, or thick enough to eat from a plate, with tinned tomatoes and fresh, with onions or without.

My version is a little lighter and special enough to serve as a starter at dinner, or a light lunch. It has fewer ingredients than other recipes, but it’s packed with flavour and is very easy to make. It keeps very well, in fact, it often tastes better the day after when the flavours seem to meld and deepen. I use burrata, a type of mozzarella with cream, which is every bit as rich and delicious as it sounds. If you cannot get hold of it, buffalo mozzarella will work very well, just make sure you bring the cheese to room temperature before serving.

My version is below, but one of the wonderful things about this recipe is that you do not need to be exact; if you have more bread or more tomatoes, it doesn’t matter. Each version will taste unique. It is also important to skin the tomatoes; I know skinning tomatoes sounds like the world’s greatest waste of time, but it makes a huge difference here and really doesn’t take long. The larger the tomatoes are, the quicker and easier they are to skin. Simply cut a small cross on the bottom of each tomato and plunge into a bowl of boiling water for about 20 seconds. You should see the skin start to float away from part of the tomato. Drain, cool a little and the skin will simply slip off.

Pappa Al Pomodoro

serves 4

Ingredients

120g stale, crustless, white bread-ciabatta is perfect, torn into chunks

500g tomatoes-the best you can find, skinned and roughly chopped

3 cloves of garlic, thinly sliced

3 tbs extra virgin olive oil, plus more for drizzling

2 tbs fresh basil, roughly torn

salt and pepper to taste

2 balls of burrata or buffalo mozzarella cheese

Method

Place the bread in a bowl and add 150ml water. Leave the bread to soak up the water. Heat the olive oil gently in a large pan, add the garlic. Let the garlic infuse the oil, but do not let it colour. Add the tomatoes, with some salt and pepper. Allow to cook and break down a little. Take the bread and squeeze most of the water out, then add it to the pan.

Cook slowly for 10-15 minutes, until the mixture becomes like a thick, soup-like consistency. Add 1 tbs of basil. Taste and add more salt and/or pepper if needed. Take off the heat and leave to stand.

Place half a ball of burrata per person on a plate-it looks better if it torn rather than sliced. You can serve the pappa al pomodoro at room temperature, but I prefer to serve it warm, so it begins to melt the cheese into an unctuous goo. Sprinkle the remainder of the basil over each plate and drizzle a little olive oil.

Serve with fresh ciabatta and a rocket salad.