The wateriness of courgettes puts many people off. But that's only if you cook them like a 1950s battle-axe of a boarding-house landlady. The key is to give them no more than a flash in the pan. A mere glimpse of searing heat, just enough to turn the slivers of garlic golden and crisp, and the courgettes, be they cubes or baby ones, will have bite and a juicy crunch to them.For years we have usually done these with grated garlic, melted gently into the hot oil, almost like a confit, but the other day I left the heat on a little too high and saved the slivers just in time. Now, we do both, having in modern parlance 'garlic two ways' and it has lifted this from delicious to sublime. A few chilli flakes and some lemon zest lift this a little higher still, and looks as if you've made a little bit of an effort. Even though, as is often the case, simple, fresh ingredients treated well are all you need.Be generous with the garlic, olive oil and seasoning here, courgettes do need a little help.IngredientsBaby courgettes, sliced lenegthwise. About 12-14 is enough for two peopleA good helping of good quality extra virgin olive oil2 fat cloves of garlic, one sliced very finely and one grated on a microplaneA generous pinch of Maldon saltSome chilli flakesZest of half a lemonMethodHeat a sauté pan with the olive oil and add the slivers of garlic, cook on medium until turning golden then add the courgettes and the rest of the garlic. Season well and toss them around a bit on high heat until the green of the skin sets its colour vividly. Dress with the zest and chilli flakes to taste and check and adjust the seasoning. Serve straight away as an excellent side dish.
Little green courgette
in Recipes, Vegetarian
I've been away. A week in Devon for half term, fires every night and a week in Mansfield for work and I can't remember a decent thing we've eaten the past fortnight.The fish and chips on the beach at Torcross bay was pretty good, as far as that kind of thing goes. The baguettes at the Pilchard inn for a fiver were awful, as you'd expect at that price in a touristy part of the country. Even the children turned their tiny button noses up at them. One night I seem to remember us having crisps for dinner.Oh hold on; we did have a nice afternoon tea at the Thurlestone Hotel. No cucumber sandwiches though, which is criminal. Nor egg mayonnaise, compounding the problem. And to be honest, the cakes weren't that great either. Still, we enjoyed it, mostly, until Maya started getting bored and arsey about where she was sitting.This Sunday afternoon after a walk round the lake and the park we eat chocolate buttons and watched Wacky Races under the throw on the sofa. That was good food. And it reminded me of the Sundays of my childhood where I used to watch Knightrider eating crumpets. Now the children have Netflix and the watch five series worth of the same bloody programme in a row. I miss normal telly.Good food can be the most simple of things. And sometimes the most simple of things can be done so badly. Still, we are home now, so we can eat food made with a little love and respect.To that end, I've roasted the extra garlic bulbs I had in the fridge, just to squeeze on fresh toasted bread. Peckish, but not lunch hungry, a good scoop of soft, sweet, golden garlic spread over lightly toasted sourdough and served with a little dressed greenery on the side is enough to take care of you when you need something light. And it's so tasty, you wonder why you need anything else. And how hard is it, actually, to just serve something decent in a pub?And after the hotel food, the bad pubs, the sameness of town centre restaurants on holiday with their trope burgers and trope croquettes it's a reminder of how much better real food is. And how well you can eat at home.This week, perhaps we will have butter chicken one night, with daal and the naans from the bakery in Tooting. Another night may be a quick pile of prawn and spring onion pancakes with chilli and basil dipping sauce. There could be room for some lamb chops one evening, marinaded in turmeric and dried mint and served with a roast tomato, red onion and prune salsa. And perhaps tortellini in brodo, except instead of arsing around stuffing tortellini, I may make gnudi out of the filling and serve cut up sheets of fresh pasta in the broth instead. It all ends up the same doesn't it?Ingredients6 -8 large garlic bulbsOlive oil (I used coriander infused oil for this)Salt and pepper to seasonMethodHeat the oven to 170c.Slice the tops off the garlic and lay the bulbs on a large sheet of foil.Drizzle with olive oil and season well.Wrap in the foil and roast in the oven for about an hour, or until soft and squeezable.Serve warm.They can, apart from being spread on bread be used in pasta sauces, salad dressings, anything where you want a soft and sweet garlic note. Just not as toothpaste.This weekBoughtNaan bread from Iraqi bakery in Tooting. More than 2,000 per day they make. Sometimes I feel I could happily just only eat great bread for the rest of my life. Sandwiches, Naan, even pizza counts at a push...DrankHot ginger, chilli, lime and mint. A real zingy cup of tea. Perfect for winter and approaching colds.Listened toThe Archers. Traumatic and devastating.WatchedShetland, gave up on The Bureau. Dougie Henshall and the dramatic Scottish emptiness is pure telly joy. Even if there are no trees on Shetland and it's obviously SO FAKE according to Sheena's dad, who's from there.ReadOrphan X sequel, 'The Nowhere Man'. Highly enjoyable and thrilling, but not a patch on the first book. Too much of a single set piece stretched over a novel. It reads rather like a terrible film starring Tom Cruise that didn't really work.MadeChicken with pistachio and yoghurt by Meera Sodha. Tasty stuff and plenty left over for a quick Monday night supper. I also resuscitated my starter after putting it into a coma for a couple of weeks. They're pretty hardy things.
I was in a hotel in Paris for some of last week, eating unusually. The family had gathered in the 15ème from around Europe and America for Aunty Suzy's funeral, she was 100. An achievement, especially as she smoked comme une cheminée until she was at least 80.She was buried among illustrious company in the Montparnasse cemetery. Grumpy, ugly singers, Irish playwrights probably still waiting, existentialist philosophers, artists and grands fromages from history share the cold ground. I may not be able to see her anymore, but there is a place I can go to visit. Her apartment block will always be there, but new people will occupy it, more lives being lived. I'll not see those rooms again. God knows they're in for a surprise when they see the decoration that hasn't changed since she moved in.The local boulangerie furnished me with two ficelles a day, the tiny Carrefour express two minutes away kept me in supplied with ham, paté and cheese and I went to the Monoprix around the corner just to look at the food on display like a drooling window shopper. Being at the mercy of restaurants for each meal is not for me, merci. So a bag on the hotel balcony in the chilly November air served as an impromptu fridge to store my supplies.This kept me from being grumpy, like a local, and when you're dealing with 20 family members and trying to organise group meals, you need to fortify yourself. It's like herding cats, so pre-emptive snacks are a must.We went out for cous cous, it's a family tradition. Merguez and I have a long and happy history, but don't get to be together much anymore. It's a long-distance relationship, but we're always pleased to see each other. Much of my family grew up in Tripoli where the Ghirlando Brothers shipping company was based so this food is a reminder of their childhood and all of them together is like the good old days.I raided the patisserie on the Rue de Lourmel – canelé and pear tarts every day. The occasional palmier, petite beurre and chocolate barquette may have fallen into my bag. And creme brulée and tart tatin were shoveled down my trou gateau at the nearest opportunity. I clearly can't be trusted in Paris where even the smell of the Metro is like a meal to me. I also had steak tartare with salad and proper french frites. It's what she would have wanted.This clearly and sadly can't go on. But that doesn't mean I have to return to a life of pottage. How gruel that would be. So with the simplest of ingredients I made a feast to liven up a cold London lunchtime. Cherry tomatoes, slowly cooked in garlic, herbs and oil until bursting have at least doubled in flavour. And the aubergine, first charred and burnt on the gas flame was roasted until soft then blitzed with garlic, onion and thyme compote that I'd slowly and softly melted down under a paper cartouche, the flame beneath barely stronger than a match.I made some pitta breads, soft and a little blackened in parts from the griddle, to mop up all the juices and we sat, contently and quietly eating. To cut through the richness there was a salad of thinly sliced red onion, sliced baby cucumber, crumbled feta cheese from the new Turkish shop round the corner and a sprinkle of dried Sicilian oregano. It was finished off with a simple dressing of olive oil, cider vinegar (I had no red wine vinegar) and some black pepper.All of this can be made in advance, perhaps the night before while making supper. The tomatoes can stay out on the kitchen worktop, but take the aubergine purée out of the fridge an hour before eating. If it's too cold its flavour will be as non-existent as Jean-Paul Sartre's afterlife.Ingredients
I found a lobster in the freezer yesterday. Cooked and frozen solid. I'd forgotten about it, languishing there like an extra in Quincy. I gave it a hot bath, and a little shine up before taking it apart, post-mortem.Not having been able to establish a cause of death, and I know it was dead when it went in under some Vienetta, I'll have to leave an open verdict. Frozen lobster is obviously not a patch on fresh. And I'd far rather some plump tiger prawns anyway, unless I'm sitting on the shore watching the fishermen haul them up from their lobster pots and bring them clattering to the shore while singing sea shanties and talking of the sea as a 'capricious mistress'. Seeing as we live in London, this is not a fantasy I can often indulge in and I'm certainly not going to turn down this treasure from the deep-freeze.One of my favourite things to do with shellfish is keep their shells and bits for bisque. You can freeze them after cooking to do this at a later date, although in this case, I just used the one shell and made the soup straight away. I love the grittiness, the deep spiciness of the soup and it also makes a great sauce for pasta. The recipe is 
The grey and dreary London streets are now exploding with wispy and bedraggled underfunded Christmas lights wrapped around flickering streetlamps. Apart from the showpiece Regent Street lights, most of the decorations elsewhere seem to have been found at the back of a cupboard from the '70s. Still, not one to complain about Christmas cheer, it is now permissible to talk about celebrating it and to start making plans.Two days ago I had my first mince pie of the year. And I had it for breakfast. That's how rock and roll I am. I also managed to burn it slightly, so really it turned into dark pastry holding mincemeat at a temperature approaching that of Krakatoa in full flow. But all this aside, I have also been cooking plenty of festive food for the various shoots I've been involved in over the past fortnight. And to be honest, I need a break from ham, turkey, filo parcels, prawn canapés and the like. And with all this extra cooking, sometimes the only energy I can summon at mealtimes will last the length of time it takes to make an omelette, bake a potato or cook a quick pasta dish.That doesn't mean it should be bleak though. Simplicity is beautiful and the best ingredients don't need a lot doing to them to make something delicious. So this classic pasta dish (usually made with spaghetti, but I prefer linguine) is spot on. And this is where it's worth having great quality pasta and special olive oil. Not the stuff you'd cook with, but the secret, small 250ml bottle you keep on the shelf hidden behind the unappealing tin of mixed beans you kid yourself you'll use one day. Be generous, this is its moment.Ingredients for two200g linguine (use spaghetti if you must)2 cloves of garlicHalf a mild red chilliExcellent quality olive oilSalt and pepperGrated fresh Parmesan to serveMethodBring a huge pan of water to the boil and throw in more salt than the doctor would be happy with.Add the pasta, return to the boil and stir occasionally until cooked al dente. Drain, but not quite fully - it's better if you keep back a tablespoon or two of the starchy cooking water - and return to the pan.While the pasta is boiling grate or mince the garlic, finely slice the chilli and add the olive oil to a saucepan. Heat until the garlic starts to fizz and bubble a little then season and remove from the heat.Add the pasta to the oil, or the other way round if you haven't enough space and mix so all the linguine is coated and silky with oil.Serve immediately with a blizzard of cheese, black pepper and some more of that excellent oil.
I prefer Autumn lamb, more flavoursome than spring and in my mind, less mean-spirited to eat. It's had a chance to gambol about and is saved from the misery of the long dark days of winter. It will never know what it's like to leave the shed first thing in the morning in the dark and come home after a hard day still in the dark. It's had one glorious summer.Harissa, garlic and rosemary were born to go with lamb. Spread all over a leg and studded through is a heavenly mix. Here though, I've stuffed the breast with a few other bits and pieces then rolled it tightly, slowly roasting it, at first on high to crisp the skin, then slowly for a few more hours so all the flavours melt into each other. Once you've done the chopping, which is a pretty quick job, you can just put it in the oven and you're free to do some gambolling of your own.We ate this with a butter bean mash laced with lemon juice to cut through the richness. All you need for this is a tin of butter beans, the juice of half a lemon, some salt and thyme sprigs. Heat them all together in a pan and crush until mashed.Ingredients1kg lamb breastA few thyme sprigs, leaves only1tbsp cumin seedsSalt and pepper3tbsp harissa1/2 red onion, sliced1 red chilli, finely sliced1 fat garlic cloveFor the stuffing6 dried apricots, preferably the natural black ones, choppedA handful of pistachios, crushed1tsp capers1tbsp ground cinnamon1/2 block of fetaMethodHeat the oven to 220cRoll back the layers of meat and sprinkle the thyme and cumin seeds under the first layer of skin.Lay the next layer back down and spread all over with the harissa then sprinkle over the pistachio. Spread over the onion, garlic and chilli then the apricot and capers.Crumble over the feta and sprinkle on the cinnamon.Tightly roll the lamb and tie it well all round with string.Cook for half an hour then turn the oven down to 150c and cook for another two and a half hours. Leave to rest and carve into slices.
And the nights are drawing in. Summer's almost gone, before we know it we shall be wearing makeup and knocking on neighbours doors demanding sweets. Even if you don't have children, this is great fun. I'd even suggest doing it mid-July if you fancy a laugh.But before then, it's my favourite time of year. The leaves turn gold and orange, the crisp, blue mornings with their low sun skies turn the walk to school into a show of colour and misty breath, wrapped up against the coming winter. It's the time to eat comforting food that's not quite long slow-braised beef shin stews, thick, rich and brown, but bridges the seasons.Cooking the pasta in the pan with everything else gives it real depth and reminds me of some of the meal in a bowl soups my mum used to make for us. There's so much going on, but really takes very little effort to make. Fresh bay leaves from the tree make the difference here, but use dried if you must. And don't bother doing your own peppers, just buy a good jar of them. There are some things that just aren't worth the fuss.Ingredients for four4 skin on chicken supremes4 garlic cloves, peeled1 red onion, cut into wedges1tbsp dried oregano2 bay leaves1 jar of roast red peppers, drainedA handful of good black olives250g orzo1tsp bouillon powderBoiling water to coverOlive oilSalt and pepper to seasonMethodHeat some oil in a large, lidded, heavy and shallow pan. Fry the chicken, seasoned, skin-side down until golden then turn and cook for a couple of minutes.Add the garlic and onions and cook for a minute longer.Throw in the peppers, olives, bay, bouillon, and orzo then just cover with boiling water. Sprinkle over the oregano and cover with the lid.Cook gently for about ten minutes, until the orzo is soft, but with a little bite.Serve from the pan at the table.
In the time it's taken for you to read this sentence, you could have already made this tomato sauce. It's that quick. I make mine in my NutriBullet, but a stick blender or food processor will do the job too.Make sure you use juicy, ripe tomatoes. Tinned are also a good bet when we're not quite at the height of tomato season. You can make this while the pasta is cooking, and then just stir it in and heat for a minute or two. It really does take ten seconds and is also great as a sauce for homemade pizza.Ingredients400g tomatoes, fresh or tinned2 cloves of garlic1 small onion1tbsp dried oreganoA small pour of olive oilSalt and pepperMethodBlitz all the ingredients together until smooth, heat through and serve with the pasta. See, it doesn't even need cooking, really.
