Silly me. I thought the hardest thing about writing a blog while working a full-time job would be finding the time to post, but I was wrong. My biggest issue over the past couple weeks has been somewhat different… it’s the light, or lack thereof. Barely mid-September, and London has already decided to provide me with dark and gloomy weather come dinnertime. Which, as any photo-snapping food blogger out there knows, makes it next to impossible to get a good photo.

Meaning that I’m limited to weekend eats at the moment. Not that that’s a bad thing: weekends are when I make my regular jaunt to the farmer’s market, so on Sundays at least, my little fridge is full of the good stuff. Of course I don’t by all my food at the market, and in the aisles of my local supermarket, I’ve discovered something…

I like avocados. I know, I’m a little late to the party on this one; many a vegetarian friend of mine loves this mild green fruit. But I’ve always been slightly adverse to them, probably due to their, er – distinctive texture. Call me crazy, but I just didn’t think something that grows on trees had any right to be that creamy! (I have a similar beef with kiwis: anyone else think it’s just wrong for a fruit to have hair?!)

Luckily, I’ve gotten over it. These days, I’m looking to put avocado in anything and everything I can. First up- this panzanella-like salad of chopped veg and dried bread chunks. I’ve called it “Tuscanesque” because certain elements – the cannellini beans, bread chunks, cherry tomatoes and basil – have a certain Tuscan authenticity to them. However, I’m not sure how many Italian Nonnas put avocado and red pepper in their salads, hence the -esque.

But really, I don’t think authenticity matters one whit when food tastes (and looks, in the light of day) this good!

• Chopped Tusanesque Salad
• serves 4
• 2 cups cubed bread (ideally stale)
  1 400g can cannellini beans, rinsed and drained well
  2 cups chopped cherry tomatoes (halved or quartered, depending on size)
  1 cup chopped cucumber
  1 small red pepper, chopped
  1 avocado, peeled and roughly chopped
  1/2 red onion, finely chopped
  3 Tbs. olive oil
  1 Tbs. red wine vinegar
  pinch sea salt
  10-15 leaves basil, chopped or torn
• 1. If your bread is fresh, spread the cubes out on a baking sheet and allow them to toast lightly in the oven on a low temperature. If it’s already somewhat stale, simply tear it up and add to a large bowl.
  2. Add the drained beans, chopped tomatoes, cucumber, and red pepper to the bowl as well.
  3. In a smaller bowl, mix together the chopped avocado with the onion, vinegar and olive oil and toss well. This is to ensure the avocado gets coated by the acid in the vinegar, and won’t turn brown. Add a pinch of salt to the dressing, to taste.
  4. Just before you’re ready to serve the salad, pour the dressing and avocado mixture over the chopped bread and veg and toss together well. Sprinkle over the basil leaves and add a bit more olive oil, if necessary.

You’d be forgiven, lately, for thinking that I’m on extended holiday. But here in the UK, we kind of all are. Easter plus a certain upcoming wedding means back-to-back four-day weekends and an understandable amount of laziness in between. But for myself, the laziness is at a minimum; heading up to Andrew’s parents’ last weekend and getting ready for a visit from my parents this week means I haven’t had a lot of time for cooking or blogging.

I still have to eat though, and the spring produce at the market is nothing short of inspiring. I’m loving tomatoes of all kinds lately, and have been eating them in everything from creamy soups to roasted Mediterranean-inspired meals. My current favourite is Panzanella, the Tuscan salad of stale bread and chopped tomatoes.

Traditionally just a way of using up leftover bread, many modern panzanella recipes go a step or two further and contain roasted peppers, cucumber, olives and/or cheese. But you’ll note that my recipe is a “simple” one; drying the bread out in the oven is about as much effort as I like to make for a tomato salad. And that step isn’t even necessary if you use stale bread, like the leftover foccaccia I particularly favour.

I bet this recipe would be just as tasty with any number of additions, and I plan to try out a version with chopped anchovies and capers soon. But keep in mind that the simpler you keep the dish, the quicker it is to make. Perfect for those of us with busy schedules.

• Simple Panzanella
• serves 2, or more as a side
• 2 cups torn bread, preferably stale
  olive oil
  2 1/2 cups cherry tomatoes, halved
  1/2 small red onion, finely chopped
  1 Tbs. red wine vinegar
  1 garlic clove, crushed
  1 tsp. sea salt
  1 tsp. dried oregano
  handful fresh basil, roughly torn
• 1. If your bread is fresh, preheat the oven to 200°C/400°F and get out a non-stick baking sheet. Toss the bread chunks with a glug of olive oil and arrange on the sheet, then bake for 6-8 minutes until just beginning to dry out. Be careful not to over-crisp or brown the bread, and don’t bother with this step if your bread is at all stale.
  
  2. Meanwhile, place the cherry tomatoes in a large bowl. Add the onion, another glug of olive oil, and the rest of the ingredients. Toss together and allow to sit for at least ten minutes- the salt and dressing will “pull” the moisture from the tomatoes. Remove and discard the garlic clove before adding the bread.
  
  3. When the bread has cooled completely (if applicable), add to the bowl and toss well. You may need to add a little more olive oil to moisten everything well. Serve immediately, as a main or a side.

After weeks of glorious weather, London has reverted to the overcast skies and cool temperatures it likes best. I’m glad that I made the most of the warmer weather while it was here, with much window-opening, skirt-wearing and salad-making. I’m also hoping that it will get a bit warmer in time for the weekend, as I’ve got a shopping date with my sister and some London Marathon-watching (from the comfort of my couch, of course) on the agenda.

But even if the weather doesn’t take a turn for the better, this grain and vegetable salad should fit in just fine. One of those perfect early-spring recipes, it combines crisp veggies with hearty mixed grains, and wraps them all in a bright-yet-rich dressing.

Both fennel and radishes have that crisp, cool bitterness that heralds the arrival of warmer weather. Personally, I took my time warming to either of these vegetables; something about the aniseed-like flavour of fennel and the sharpness of radish put off the younger me. But now that I happily eat them, and together they’re just perfect.

I’m calling this salad a grain one, but using the term somewhat loosely. I used a mix of farro, quinoa and giant couscous, but the purist in me is feeling obligated to point out that only one of those is, in fact, a grain. But no matter; what you’re aiming for here is an interesting mix of of texture and flavour; barley, wheat berries and millet would all work well, too.

What makes this salad really sing is the dressing. Butter might seem a strange choice and sure, olive oil would be tasty too (not to mention healthier). But salted butter is a natural ally of radishes, and paired with lemon juice and pepper, it brings all the flavours together and just works. Whatever the weather.

• Grain, Fennel and Radish Salad w/ Butter-Lemon Dressing
• serves 4-6 as a side dish
• 3 cups cooked mixed grains (try farro, wheat berries, millet, rice, quinoa and couscous)
  1/2 cup finely chopped parsley, plus extra to garnish
  1 small bunch radishes, thinly sliced
  1 bulb fennel, sliced lengthwise and broken up
  1/4 cup salted butter
  juice of one lemon
  black pepper, to taste
• 1. Mix together the grains and parsley in one bowl, and the radishes and fennel in another
  
  2. Melt the butter in a small dish in the microwave, or in a milk pan over low heat. When it’s completely melted, remove from heat and stir in the lemon juice, then season to taste.
  
  3. Add one third of the butter-lemon dressing to the grains and mix well. Add another third to the vegetables and toss to coat. Arrange the grains on a platter and scatter over the vegetables. Drizzle over the rest of the dressing, and garnish with some more parsley. (Alternatively, you could just mix everything together in one big bowl and serve it like that).

“What’s your favourite colour?” is one of those questions which, along with classics like “What do you want to be when you grow up?”, adults don’t get asked much. Which is a shame, because I’m pretty sure that most adults would have a more interesting answer than your average six-year-old. While once upon a time I would have said “pink” simply because that’s what every little girl is expected to say, today my answer would be far more considered.

See, while I like “colour” in theory (and in art, interior design and life), I don’t really like it on me. My sister loves to tease me about my wardrobe full of “drab and blah” shades, and it’s true; I love neutrals, and they make up a good portion of my wardrobe. My favourite colours to wear include olive green, muted gold, grey and of course, black.

But with food, I’m with the experts; brighter is better. Not just for health but beauty and enjoyment of a meal, too. I particularly love how the bright green of vegetables and herbs pairs with purple; think beets and their greens or basil and aubergine. So the other day when I was looking for an addition to my herby couscous salad recipe and saw a head of brilliant red cabbage in the crisper, I was sold.

I found the jumbo, or Israeli, couscous for this recipe in my local supermarket. Six months ago I was combing London for the stuff, and now it’s available easily, and in a wholewheat version, no less. I like the wholewheat almost better than the plain, particularly for salads. It has an extra-chewy quality which really works here.

Add to the couscous some chopped fennel, cabbage, parsley and mint, and dress the whole thing lightly with some oil and vinegar, and what do you have? A riotous explosion of green and purple which tastes as vibrant as it looks.

So, what’s your favourite colour? What about to eat?

• Purple & Green Couscous Salad
• serves 4-6 as a side
• 1 cup wholewheat jumbo couscous
  1 medium fennel bulb, chopped finely
  1/2 small purple cabbage, chopped finely
  1/2 cup finely chopped parsley
  1/4 cup finely chopped mint
  1/4 cup olive oil
  juice of half a lemon, or more to taste
  sea salt and black pepper
• 1. Bring a large pot of water to the boil and cook the couscous just like pasta. Boil for 6-8 minutes until cooked but still chewy, then drain, rinse well and allow to drip dry in a sieve.
  
  2. When the couscous is no longer dripping wet, add to a large bowl and toss with all the other ingredients. Season to taste, adding more lemon juice, salt and pepper as needs be. This salad will keep well in the fridge for several days.

If you follow me on Twitter, you might have seen this a few hours ago. And if you did, you’d be forgiven for thinking that I’d finally lost the plot. It’s rare that I make something that day and immediately want to blog about it, but this is fresh off the presses: people, sprout slaw is awesome.

I’ve been thinking about this sprout slaw recipe ever since Deb mentioned it this time last year. Though her words weren’t exactly complimentary (“tastes like eating a bowl of grass”), I was intrigued. But, like many other things, it got filed away in the furthermost recesses of my mind, and I promptly forgot about it. Fast forward to a year later. After finally getting to grips with slaws in general, I’m a little more adventurous than I was last year. Also, I have a massive stalk of sprouts in the fridge, which I have to use by the end of the week. Now is the time for guts and guile.

So I sliced, shredded, dressed and seasoned; my only addition to the original recipe was some chopped dried cranberries (to make it more festive) and a generous amount of freshly ground black pepper (to make it, er, peppery). Pretty soon I was tucking into a bowl of slaw so flavourful, crunchy and addictive that I had barely swallowed my last bite before I got up for more (no need to feel guilty when it’s just raw veg, right?) If this is what eating a bowl of grass is like, sign me up for summer.

Actually, do that anyway.

• Brussels Sprout Slaw
• adapted from Epicurious
• serves 4, more as a side
• 4 cups shaves brussels sprouts (see note)
  1/4 cup olive oil
  2 Tbs. lemon juice
  1/4 cup grated parmesan cheese
  3/4 cup roughly chopped walnuts
  1/2 cup roughly chopped dried cranberries or sour cherries
  freshly ground black pepper, to taste
• Note: To shave the sprouts, tear away the outer leaves first. You can use a mandoline or sharp knife to make thin shavings, but only slice about half-way down each sprout. At this point, switch to shaving from the sides of the sprout. Basically, you’re trying to avoid the white/yellow stem of each sprout, which is too hard for this salad.
• 1. Rinse the sprouts well and let drain while you toast the walnuts. You can either do this in a hot oven, spread out on a baking sheet, or in a small frying pan over high heat. Either way, it should only take a few minutes to get some colour on the nuts. Set aside to cool while you make the slaw.
  
  2. Put the sprouts, olive oil, lemon juice and parmesan cheese together in a large bowl and toss well. When they’re cool enough, add the walnuts and also the chopped cranberries. Add freshly ground black pepper to taste (I like this quite peppery) and serve.

The moral of today’s story is: always check your mail as soon as you receive it. While this probably isn’t particularly helpful advice in the case of say, bills or junk mail (because who wants to open those in a hurry?), I certainly wish that I’d followed it last week.

Our story begins with me, a “failed delivery” notice in hand, heading to my local post office to retrieve a parcel. I wasn’t expecting anything, so this small excitement was a bright spot in my day so far (sad, I know). Could it be a late birthday present? Some thoughtful gift from family or friend? Turns out, it was a large and heavy box from a PR group, the name of which I vaguely recalled as I maneuvered it into my bag. “Probably samples of something or other”, I thought to myself, and went on my way.

I had been on my way to the grocery store, but the bulk and weight of the package made me wonder if I should drop it off at home before continuing. But I’m lazy rather than weak, so I decided to stay the course. I was on a a mission to pick up a couple ingredients for the days ahead, including a box of quinoa for a squash salad I’d been dreaming about. My local grocery store doesn’t exactly cater to gourmets, and even basic things like this can be tricky to come across.

It transpired that this week there was quinoa in stock, but only the fancy imported kind, costing nearly £4 for a tiny box. Reasoning that I couldn’t exactly make my Quinoa Squash Salad without it, I swallowed hard and bought it. By this time, the weight of my mystery package was making my shoulder quite sore, so I hurried out of the store, opting to take a bus home rather than walk. Of course, I hadn’t prepared for the fact that it was now pouring rain, or that the buses were running late.

When I finally arrived home half an hour later, tired and sore and cranky and wet, I opened the package. Just as I’d thought, it was a collection of products from Merchant Gourmet; porcini mushrooms and lentils and balsamic syrup and quinoa. Yup, quinoa. Somebody up there must really hate me.

At the very least, I can say that the salad I had for lunch that day was delicious and flavourful, and while I can’t say it made me feel any less stupid about the whole thing, it mollified the situation somewhat. But the next time I get a mysterious package in the post, I’ll be opening it before I go to the grocery store.

• Quinoa Squash Salad
• serves 3-4
• 1 small aubergine/eggplant
  1 tsp. fine (table) salt
  olive oil, for roasting
  1 small butternut squash
  1/2 cup finely chopped sundried tomatoes (the soft kind, either plastic-packed or soaked in oil)
  3 cups cooked quinoa (I used a mix of red and white, but all white would be fine)
  1 Tbs. pesto
  approx. 3 Tbs. olive oil
  50g soft goat’s cheese, crumbled
  sea salt and black pepper, to taste
• 1. Slice the aubergine into 1 cm thick slice and toss with the table salt. Place in a single layer in a colander and set in the sink for 20-30 minutes. This encourages and aubergine to sweat and drain, making it less bitter.
  
  2. Meanwhile, preheat the oven to 200°C/400°F  and line a baking sheet with parchment or silicone paper. Peel and core the butternut squash, then chop into 1/2″ chunks. Lightly coat with olive oil (I do this by throwing them all in a bowl, putting a teeny bit of olive oil on my hands and tossing well), then spread out on the baking sheet. Roast for about 20-25 minutes, until tender and crispy in places. Allow to cool.
  
  3. Rinse the aubergine well then dry each slice with paper towel. Cut into quarters, lightly coat with olive oil (see above), then roast in the oven in the same manner as the butternut squash; the aubergine will likely take less time, about 15-20 minutes.
  
  4. Put the quinoa, chopped sundried tomatoes and pesto into a large bowl and toss well. When both squashes have cooled to room temperature, toss them in as well, and add as much olive oil as needed to coat everything lightly. Finally, crumble in the goat’s cheese and season with salt and pepper.
• Note: I made my own “pesto” of basil leaves, walnuts and olive oil for this recipe, but any favourite recipe or store-bought version should do. If you do want to make your own, I recommend one with walnuts; they work wonderfully with the rich Autumn flavours here.

One of the things I love about travelling is noticing all the local trends in the places I visit. The world can feel so small and homogenous these days, that I take delight in noticing these regional differences. At the wedding I attended in Canada earlier this month, my sharp-shouldered blazer caused much mirth among my friends; apparently, the linebacker look has yet to reach my hometown. The next week in New York City, I noticed that all the sharply-dressed guys were wearing boat shoes and the girls, over-the-knee boots-  both looks which have yet to really take off in London.

It’s the same with food, apparently. This likely won’t be news to most of you (given that Google Analytics informs me that most of my readers are in North America), but peach salads are trending huge over there. I tried two in my mere week away, one in Canada and one in NYC, and noticed several more kicking around on menus. Unlike the over-the-knee boots (which at 5’2″, I’m far too short to pull off), this is a trend I can get behind. I’m a big peach fan, especially of the Ontario freestone variety. I’m more used to enjoying the fruit in pies or on its own, but between all the wedding cake and Shake Shack I can eat, I like a little salad now and then.

It seems that a successful peach salad follows a strict formula: some sharp-tasting greens like rocket or endive, balsamic dressing, some crunch in the form of nuts or seeds, and of course, peaches. The first one I tried, in the fantastic new town restaurant in Ottawa, threw beets in the mix, which added a nice earthy flavour. The second, at the preposterously friendly, charming and delicious Joseph Leonard in NYC’s West Village, used toasted bread chunks and grated cheddar.

It was the latter which I was trying to emulate here (no offence Ottawa, but it’s hard to beat NYC in a taste-off). Rocket and spinach, chewy croutons, chopped pecans and ripe peaches, tossed in a balsamic-cheddar dressing. The choice of cheese may seem odd, but trust me on this: incorporated right into the dressing, it lends a sharp, savoury bite to everything it touches.

This is one trend that deserves to go world-wide. So give this salad a try, and maybe together we can make it a classic.

• Peach Salad with Pecans and Cheddar
• serves 1
• 1 cup cubed country bread, crusts removed
  1 large peach
  2 tsp. olive oil
  1 tsp. balsamic vinegar
  sea salt and black pepper
  1/4 cup grated strong cheddar
  1 large handful rocket/arugula
  1 large handful baby spinach
  1 Tbs. chopped pecans
• 1. Preheat the oven to 175°C/350°F and spread the cubed bread on a baking tray. Bake for 5-10 minutes until just barely golden on the edges- you don’t want these crispy, merely chewy. Let cool while you prepare the salad.
  
  2. Peel the peach by cutting a small x through the skin in the bottom, and covering with boiling water for 1-2 minutes. Immediately remove to a bowl of ice-cold water and let sit for another 1-2 minutes. Remove the peach, dry it and gently peel the skin away. Remove the stone and cut the peach into 8 wedges.
  
  3. In a small bowl, mix together the olive oil and balsamic vinegar, and salt and pepper to taste. Add the grated cheese and stir well, breaking up the strands of cheese as much as possible.
  
  4. Rinse and dry the greens, then place in a large prep bowl. Add the bread and dressing, and toss well with your fingers.
  
  5. Arrange the peach wedges on a salad plate and top with the dressed salad mixture. Sprinkle the chopped pecans over the top and serve.

To kick off my Italian-free month of eating, I wanted to share a dish that’s become a favourite of mine in recent months. I’ve promised this one before and not delivered, so I thought it was high time that I shared the love.

This simple salad of Israeli cous cous (sometimes called “toasted” cous cous) and roast fennel, red onion and carrots was inspired by one served at the traiteur-caterer where I worked until recently. (Yup, I’m back on the hunt for gainful employment- anyone know of a London-based company looking for an editorial assistant or web editor? I bake delicious things and am good at sharing…) Whenever this salad came out of the kitchen, I’d pray there was still some left by the time my lunch break rolled around. Of course, I soon realised that I could quit the praying altogether if I just learned to make it myself.

And it wasn’t hard at all. This is less of a recipe and more of a suggestion; there’s no secret ingredients or complicated techniques here. This dish relies solely on the quality of your ingredients, so as long as you have good vegetable stock (or – psst – good vegetable boullion), farm-fresh veggies and a quality olive oil, you’re laughing.

This salad is one of those that’s equally happy hot, at room temperature, or cold. It could be a side to some grilled meat or fish, but makes a wonderful lunch all on its own. It also travels particularly well, making this good picnic fodder for these summer months. So while I might be dreaming of slightly different food al fresco (focaccia, prosecco, gelato…), this will keep me happy in the meantime.

• Toasted Cous Cous with Roast Veg
• serves 4
• 1 fennel bulb
  2 red onions
  3 medium carrots
  5 Tbs. olive oil
  sea salt and black pepper
  1 cup Israeli cous cous (sometimes called toasted cous cous)
  1 1/2 cups vegetable stock (made with a good organic boullion is fine)
  2 tsp. lemon juice
  2-3 Tbs. finely chopped parsley
• 1. Preheat the oven to 200°C/400°F while you prepare the vegetables. Remove the stems and bottom from the fennel bulb, and thinly peel away the outer layer with a vegetable peeler. Cut the bulb vertically into slices, about 3mm each. Peel the red onions and cut each into 8 wedges from top to bottom. With the carrots, simply peel and slice into 1″ chunks.
  
  2. Arrange the vegetables in a single layer in a roasting pan, and drizzle over 2 tablespoons of the olive oil. Season with salt and pepper, toss well and roast for about 35 minutes, tossing once or twice to ensure even cooking.
  
  3. Meanwhile, cook the cous cous. Heat one tablespoon of olive oil in a nonstick saucepan over medium-high heat. Add the cous cous and stir until well coated, then add the stock. Bring to the boil, cover and lower the heat. Simmer for 15 minutes, then remove from heat and let sit, still covered, for another 15.
  
  4. When the cous cous and vegetables are both done, add the rest of the olive oil, the lemon juice and the parsley to the cous cous and fluff it up with a fork. It may be a bit clumpy to begin with but persevere until all the pearls are coated. Toss the cous cous with the roast vegetables and serve immediately, or wait until the salad cools.

I first had Pad Thai on a snowy day in New York City about seven years ago. Andrew and I were visiting my cousins Jeff and Natasha (they of the fab Brooklyn shops UVA Wines and Whisk- I come from good foodie stock, don’t ya know) for a bit of pre-Christmas shopping and sightseeing. One evening, they took us for dinner at a Thai restaurant in the East Village, where I had my first bite of those tangy noodles, tossed with tender shrimp, chewy tofu and crunchy peanuts.

It seems bizarre to me, now, that I could have lived to the age of 20 without trying Pad Thai. Loved the world over, it’s since become a favourite of mine, and particularly of Andrew’s. Often one of the only vegetarian options on a fusion-focused menu, I’ve spent many an evening chowing down on this delicious dish.

But when I make Pad Thai at home, I salad-ify it. I’m not worried about being inauthentic (there are so many Pad Thai recipes kicking around that I’m not convinced there is one proper way to make it), but am more concerned with versatility and snackability. Simply put, I don’t really care what temperature I eat this at. Served right away, the residual heat from the veggies and sauce will give it an authentic, rib-sticking warmth. Wait a while and the flavours mellow into a nice room-temperature dish that can be either main or side. Kept in the fridge and this becomes the stuff of snacking legend, refreshing and flavourful and ready at a moment’s notice.

Another reason I’m calling this a salad is its lack of protein. While I love the tofu, egg and prawn-laden versions served up in restaurants (NYC or elsewhere), I’m not so keen on those items when cold and two days old. Same reasoning behind the prudent amount of dressing; an overly “saucy” Pad Thai can get soggy in the fridge, while this version keeps for days.

Not that it does, of course. I did say it was snackable.

Note: For this recipe, peanut oil will give the most authentic flavour, but any neutral oil will do. I’m a lazy rebel, so I just use olive.

• Phad Thai Noodle Salad
• adapted from Mark Bittman’s How to Cook Everything Vegetarian
• serves 4
• For the noodle salad:
  200g rice noodles
  1 Tbs. + 1 tsp. neutral oil
  1/2  green cabbage, shredded
  1 red bell pepper, cored and finely sliced
  1 carrot, cut in half lengthwise then julienned
  1 red chili, finely chopped
  3 green onions, finely chopped
  1/4 cup chopped coriander
  1/4 cup chopped peanuts
  lime wedges, to serve
  
  For the dressing:
  2 Tbs. Thai fish sauce (or use soy sauce)
  2 Tbs. lime juice
  2 tsp. tamarind paste
  2 tsp. sugar
• 1. Put the noodles in a large pot or bowl and cover with boiling water from the kettle. Cover with a lid or plate and let soften according to package directions- anywhere from 5 to 15 minutes. When tender, drain and rinse the noodles with cold water. Place in a large bowl and toss with 1 tsp. of oil to keep from clumping.
  
  2. Heat the rest of the oil in a large non-stick pan over medium-high heat. Add the cabbage, red pepper and carrots and cook for 3-4 minutes; long enough to tenderize and get a bit of colour, but quickly enough to retain most of the crunch.
  
  3. While the vegetables cook, make the dressing. Simmer all ingredients in a small pot over a gentle heat, whisking frequently, until the tamarind paste dissolves and you have a uniform sauce. You will want to add several tablespoons of water to achieve a “sauce-like” consistency; it shouldn’t be too thick or gloppy.
  
  4. When the vegetables are wilted but still crunchy, remove from heat and toss with the noodles in the bowl. Pour over the dressing (using a sieve to strain out any tamarind bits, if need be) and also mix in half of the chili, green onions, coriander and peanuts. Toss everything well.
  
  5. Arrange the noodles over a large platter, or remove to individual bowls. Scatter the remaining chili, green onions, coriander and peanuts over the top and serve with lime wedges.

One of my Mum’s quirkiest habits is her tendency to want to provide for my sister and me, usually just before we’re about to part ways. Let’s be clear: when I say provide, I mean give us stuff, usually random things that we neither want nor ask for.

Let’s say I’ve been home for a few days and am about to head to the airport. On seeing me, suitcase in hand, some maternal instinct will kick in which causes her to begin rifling through the nearest drawer, looking for offerings. “Do you need some maple syrup, honey?” “How about these socks- they’re very warm!” I’m not sure when this behaviour started, but it’s definitely intensified since my sister and I both moved to the UK. I’ve travelled trans-Atlantic with everything from ziploc bags of smoked paprika to spare bread knives in my luggage. And yes, I’ve just realised how weird that sounds.

But the woman comes by it honestly, I can now attest. Last October, after a week’s stay in Canada for a friend’s wedding, Andrew and I spent a night with my maternal grandmother before flying home to England. After she’d called us a cab, she began to go through her kitchen cupboards, looking for travel-friendly foodstuffs with which to send me on my way.

Though my suitcase was full to bursting already, I was touched and quite amused, so saw fit to accept a small package of Canadian wild rice. Incidentally, this wild rice is one of my mother’s favourite items to push, too- I wonder if it’s to do with that family’s prairie roots, or else an effort to provide me with a “taste of home” while so far away.

Luckily, I have something pretty awesome to do with all that rice. While it’s generally thought of as a cold weather ingredient, most suited to casseroles and turkey-dinner sides, my favourite thing to make with wild rice is actually a salad. This recipe is adapted from one I first tried at my part-time job, a best-seller there and damn near addictive, let me tell you. It’s not just the flavour, but the smorgasbord of textures here: nibbly rice, crunchy veg, chewy fruit and even (if you remember to put it in- I don’t always) crisp nuts.

As well as being delicious, my favourite rice salad is also easy to prepare, and it keeps well in the fridge. But you must include the wild rice here; all brown rice and it just wouldn’t be the same. Let’s hope you’ve got a pushy Canadian Mum or Grandma, then.

• Favourite Rice Salad
• serves 4, more as a side
• 2/3 cup brown rice
  1/3 cup wild rice
  1 red pepper
  1 green pepper
  2 stalks celery
  4 spring onions
  100g dried apricots or dates
  100g cashews (optional)
  2 Tbs. red wine vinegar
  2 Tbs. olive oil
  sea salt and black pepper, to taste
• 1. Cook the two types of rice according to package directions.
  
  2. Meanwhile, chop the vegetables, dried fruit and nuts (if using) to a consistent size- I like everything to be in 1cm chunks. Put in a large bowl and mix in the vinegar and olive oil.
  
  3. When the rice is cooked, rinse in cold water and drain well. Add to the bowl with the vegetables and dressing, salt and pepper to taste, and serve.