I just love fresh peas. Not only are they delicious – crisp and juicy, tasting of pure summer – but they’re fun, too. Unlike their difficult Springtime sister the broad bean, peas require very little in the prep department. There’s no tearing at leathery skins and coaxing beans from their furry beds, before boiling and skinning them individually, Thank God. With peas it’s simply a matter of “zipping” open the pods and pushing out the perfect green jewels within. As monotonous kitchen chores go, pea-podding is pretty great.

There’s probably another reason I love peas so much, and it’s to do with childhood family vacations. See, I come from a family of foragers. My Mum in particular will help herself to anything she finds growing by the side of a country road or along a public footpath; wildflowers, holly for Christmas decoration, berries of all kinds. And many was the time, when driving along some deserted stretch of highway in Nova Scotia or New Brunswick when she would shriek to my father “stop the car!”, and we’d all get out and gather wild peas.

As embarrassing as this could be (and still is- just last year we paused mid-nature walk to forage for wild berries in Suffolk), I didn’t really mind. Who could mind when wild peas are so deliciously snackable? As superior as fresh are, I even like frozen peas; a handful, straight from the freezer, has been a favourite snack for as long as I can remember. Certainly, they’re useful to have when the weather makes successful foraging unlikely.

But it’s July, and here in London we have fresh peas in abundance, and I don’t even have to search for them. No, the farmer’s market is groaning with the things and my mind is racing with all the recipe possibilities. This particular one was inspired by my newest cookbook (and current obsession), Plenty by Yotam Ottolenghi. Ottolenghi’s “Green Pancakes“, stuffed with fresh spinach, green onions and chili, caught my attention immediately. But while spinach is all fine and well, I thought adding peas to that batter would be infinitely preferable.

I was right: this was one of the freshest and yummiest breakfast dishes I’ve had in ages. I say breakfast (and I’m putting them in that category), but these would be just as delicious for brunch, lunch or even dinner. If you’re worried about the chili in a breakfast dish, don’t be. They’re spicy, but not overly so; the fresh peas keep things on the sweet side.

The original recipe features a yummy-looking lime butter, but that proved a bit too much work for me. Some regular butter (or yogurt) and a squeeze of lime juice is all these need, though a fresh salad wouldn’t go amiss, either. So, looking for a creative and seasonal spin on pancakes? Or maybe you need something to use up all the fresh peas in your fridge? No need to forage any further.

• Green Pea Pancakes
• adapted from Plenty by Yotam Ottolenghi
• serves 3-4
• 130g podded fresh peas
  110g self-raising flour
  1 Tbs. baking powder
  1/2 tsp. ground cumin
  1/4 tsp. ground turmeric
  1/2 tsp. salt
  50g unsalted butter
  150gml milk
  1 large egg
  6 spring onions, finely chopped
  1-2 green chilies, finely chopped
  1/4 cup finely chopped coriander
  zest of one lime
  olive oil for frying
  Greek yogurt, lime wedges or butter, to serve
• 1. Bring a small pot of water to the boil and simmer the peas for 3-4 minutes, until no longer raw but still crunchy. Rinse well in cold water and set aside.
  
  2. Whisk together the flour, baking powder, spices and salt in a medium-sized bowl and set aside. In a small pot or a microwavable dish, melt the butter and allow to cool slightly. Whisk in the milk and egg, and add this to the dry ingredients. Whisk until batter is batter is blended but not perfectly smooth- a couple small lumps are okay. Add the peas, spring onions, chili, coriander and lime zest to the batter and stir well.
  
  3. Heat and non-stick pan over medium-high heat, with just enough olive oil to coat the bottom. For each pancake, use approximately 2 tablespoons of batter- they will be about 1cm thick and 7cm wide. Allow to cook for about 2 minutes on each side, until you get a nice golden-brown colour. Remove to a paper towel while you use up the rest of the batter, adding more oil to the pan as needed.
  
  4. Serve pancakes with lime wedges and Greek yogurt or butter, or Ottolenghi’s Lime Butter.

Apologies for the crickets around here lately; I’ve been busy with some other stuff that’s left cooking (not to mention blogging about cooking) a little low on my priority list. Actually, that’s only half the reason. The other cause of my cooking hiatus is the sweltering, mind-numbing, near dehabilitating heat that’s settled over London in the last few weeks.

I am not a girl who deals well with high temperatures. Give me a snowstorm over a heatwave any day. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll happily take some 30+ degrees weather when lying on a beach somewhere, with nothing more taxing to do than flip the pages of the latest Kate Atkinson novel. But faced with the task of going to work, exercising, turning on the oven or – worst of all – going on the London underground in anything more than tepid weather, and I’m a mess.

Some occasions however, are worth the effort. The other day my sister and I met up with the lovely, talented and very cool Dana of Dana Treat for lunch. On the last leg of a whirlwind 40th birthday trip, Dana and her husband Randy had taken in Cannes and Paris before Eurostar-ing it to London, where they once lived. Hilary and I had been looking forward to meeting one of our “internet heroes” for weeks, though in some ways we already felt like old friends.

We chose Ottolenghi, the celebrated Middle Eastern-inspired deli in north London, for this auspicious event. It was a resounding success; the restaurant was (mercifully) air-conditioned, and the food delicious. Though not strictly vegetarian, Ottolenghi is famous for their salads, so Dana and I were in veggie heaven. The company wasn’t bad either; Hil and I picked Dana’s brains on everything from making macarons (tricky, but fun) to motherhood (the same, though on a grander scale). The three of us talked blogging, photography, careers and travel for over two hours before forcing ourselves to venture back into the London heat.

Today, it seems as though that heat has finally broken. Inspired by our lunch, I reached for my brand-new copy of Plenty, the Yotam Ottolenghi cookbook which Dana and I both have. Though I want to make nearly everything in this gorgeous book, I settled on a simple sauté of chickpeas, carrots and spinach to ease me back into the cooking zone.

Time will tell whether it worked, of course. I can say that this was the second most delicious lunch I’ve had this week, even if I did have to eat it all alone.

• Chickpea Sauté with Greek Yogurt Sauce
• adapted from Plenty by Yottam Ottolenghi
• serves 3
• For the sauté:
  1 tsp. cumin seeds
  2 Tbs. olive oil
  4 carrots, peeled and diced
  1 red onion, chopped
  1 garlic clove, minced
  250g freshly cooked chickpeas (or 1 x 400g can, drained)
  100g baby spinach, rinsed
  1 Tbs. finely chopped coriander
  1 Tbs. finely chopped parsley
  1 Tbs. lemon juice
  sea salt and black pepper, to taste

  For the sauce:
  100g Greek yogurt
  1 Tbs. olive oil
  1 Tbs. lemon juice
  1 tsp. finely chopped coriander
  1 tsp. finely chopped parsley
  sea salt and black pepper, to taste

• 1. First, make the sauce. Mix together all ingredients in a small bowl, salt and pepper to taste, and set aside.

  2. Heat a large pan over medium-high heat add the cumin seeds. Toast for 1-2 minutes, until fragrant and beginning to colour. Add the olive oil and carrots and cook, stirring frequently, for 5-6 minutes. The carrots should begin to become tender and get some colour.

  3. Add the onion and garlic and cook for another 5 minutes or so until soft and translucent. Add the chickpeas and cook for 2-3 minutes until hot through. Add the spinach, herbs and lemon juice and cook for just enough time for the spinach to wilt. Remove from heat, season to taste and serve with the yogurt sauce on the side.

Much is made in the UK of curry being our national dish. Open the menu at any local pub, scan the contents page of a British food magazine, or switch on Saturday Kitchen and you’ll soon get the idea: we’re one curry-lovin’ nation. For my own part, I definitely eat more Indian, Pakistani and Bangladeshi-inspired foods than I did when I lived in Canada. In fact, good Indian food is one of the few things I miss sorely whenever I’m back home for an extended period of time. (When I’m here I miss Thai and Japanese foods- go figure.)

Despite recent reports of pasta catching up with curry in the popularity stakes, I’m not all that worried, since I’m pretty sure the love affair between Britain and curry is here to stay. What began with the East India Trading Company and led to a hundred years of colonialism seems to have instilled in the British public an almost innate liking for spice. It’s sometimes hard to see where the lines are, they’re so blurred; chutney and kedgeree are both British foods that belie their origins.

This salad is another Anglo-Indian affair: on one hand, you’ve got a bed of spinach and Puy lentils (yes, I know they’re really French, but spare me) with some tender English asparagus, and on the other, paneer cheese and a vibrant coriander dressing. At first I wasn’t so sure about the combination, and worried that the delicate flavour of the asparagus would be overwhelmed. But I needn’t have worried, as everything go along swimmingly, the flavours lifting each other up rather than arguing. When it comes to international love affairs, I guess the proof really is in the pudding. Er, paneer.

Note: If the idea of making your own paneer intimidates you, don’t let it. I’ve made this fresh Indian cheese twice now and it really couldn’t be simpler: you boil, you stir, you drain. Make it the day before if you’re pressed for time, and store it in an airtight, water-filled container in the fridge. But you can buy paneer in most supermarkets (at least here in the UK), so feel free to do so if you’re not the cheese-making type.

• Lentil and Spinach Salad with Pan-fried Asparagus, Paneer and Coriander Dressing
• serves 4
• For the salad
  200g Puy lentils
  100g young spinach, washed
  2 Tbs. olive oil
  250g young asparagus, woody ends snapped off
  250g paneer, cut into 1″ cubes (see below)
  2 green onions, finely chopped
  
  For the dressing
  1/2 tsp. cumin seeds
  25g bunch of coriander, stems included
  1 small green chili, de-seeded and chopped
  1 small garlic clove
  2 green onions, chopped
  zest and juice of one lime
  2 Tbs. olive oil
  1/4 tsp. sea salt
• 1. Put a large pot of water on to boil and cook the lentils according to package instructions.
  
  2. Meanwhile, make the dressing. In a small pan over high heat, lightly toast the cumin seeds until they begin to brown and become very fragrant. Place them into a spice grinder or food processor with all the other ingredients and blitz until smooth. Taste, as you may want to add more salt or oil at this point.
  
  3. When the lentils are cooked, rinse with cool water and drain well. Layer them with the spinach on a serving platter or on individual plates.
  
  4. Heat the olive oil in a non-stick pan over high heat until shimmering. Add the asparagus in a single layer and cover the pan. Let the asparagus cook for 3-4 minutes without moving them, so you get a nice brown crispy side, and a steamed green side.
  
  5. Arrange the asparagus and the paneer pieces over the top of the salad. Drizzle with the coriander dressing and sprinkle on the green onions for garnish. Serve immediately.

• Paneer
• adapted from Anjum’s New Indian by Anjum Anand
• makes 250g
• 2 litres full-fat milk
  3 Tbs. lemon juice
  1 tsp. salt
• 1. Line a metal sieve with cheesecloth or a smooth kitchen towel. Set over a large bowl and set aside.
  
  2. Bring the milk to the boil in a large saucepan- watch carefully, because it can bubble up quickly. When the milk boils, turn down the heat slightly and stir in the salt. Add the lemon juice and keep stirring: it should immediately begin to separate into curds and whey. After a few minutes of stirring, you should have many white curds suspended in yellow, watery whey. If you don’t, add a bit more lemon juice and keep stirring.
  
  3. Pour the curds into the lined sieve over the sink, and rinse them well with cold water.  Then gather up the cheesecloth and squeeze out as much water as you can. Leave the package of curds to drain over the bowl for about 20 minutes.
  
  4. Squeeze the cheesecloth-and-curds package again and place it on a large plate (one with a lip). Put a heavy pot or pan right on top of the package (anything cast-iron works well) and leave for another hour; the weight of the pot will press any remaining liquid from the cheese. Gently unwrap your disc of firm, but still delicate, paneer: ready to be used or stored in the fridge.

Last night, Andrew and I went out for drinks and food with a friend who’d recently moved back to London. Because I like cooking and am pretty good at it (and yes, am somewhat of a cheapskate), we don’t go out for food too often. Restaurant meals can easily lead to conversation like “Oh, I could make this so much better at home” or “This would be great if you just replaced x with y, or served it alongside some fresh z“. You get the idea- hardly a relaxing way to spend an evening. Still, we were both looking forward to this night on the town, and ventured out with optimism.

After an al fresco pint at a central London dive pub, we ended up at Hix, a Soho restaurant that specialises in British food. We opted to eat at the swanky downstairs bar, and while I loved the extensive cocktail list, the food menu was positively heaving with meat. Beef, lamb, partridge, deer- seriously, it was like this restaurant was playing host to the BBC Young Butcher of the Year competition (no, I’m not kidding- it’s a real show).

I wasn’t all that hungry, so I didn’t mind ordering a starter for my veggie kicks. The Autumn Squash salad was delicious, beautifully presented, and left me with room for dessert (always a bonus), but wasn’t really what I was in the mood for. It was only at the end of the night, after we’d polished off our steamed treacle pudding and drained the last drop from our macchiatos, that we noticed three tiny words printed on the back page of the menu: Vegetarian Menu Available.

I’ll just let that sink in for a minute.

Can you believe that? I’d certainly never seen it before- in London or anywhere else. Rather than upsetting me, the news that there had been an entire vegetarian menu available to me just made me laugh. When I awoke this morning, though, I knew I’d make getting some compromise-free, veggielicious food inside me top priority.

I’d been thinking about this dish of Spiced Sweet Potatoes and Chickpeas ever since Sara posted it last month on her blog Sprouted Kitchen. Sweet potatoes always seem so exotic to me (as far as American things can be exotic to a Canadian), because I never had them growing up. Equally exotic is the idea of roasting chickpeas, since I usually have them in curries or salads.

I simplified the flavours somewhat, opting to focus on the combination of ginger, lime and Eastern spices. Served on a bed of spinach and drizzled with a sweet and tangy coriander dressing, the result was the perfect antidote to yesterday’s sleight.

• Roasted and Spiced Chickpeas and Sweet Potatoes
• inspired by Spiced Sweet Potatoes and Chickpeas from Sprouted Kitchen
• serves 2-3
• Chickpeas and Potatoes
  1 cup soaked and simmered chickpeas (roughly equal to 1 x 400g can), rinsed and drained
  2 medium sweet potatoes, peeled and chopped into 1/2″ cubes
  1 tsp. ground coriander
  3/4 tsp. cumin seeds
  1 tsp. sea salt
  1 garlic clove, minced
  1 Tbs. minced fresh ginger
  zest of 1 lime
  juice of 1/2 a lime
  2 Tbs. olive oil
  
  Dressing
  2 Tbs. olive oil
  juice of 1/2 a lime
  1 Tbs. honey
  1/2 tsp. minced fresh ginger
  1/4 cup finely chopped spring onions
  2 Tbs. finely chopped coriander
  pinch of sea salt
  black pepper, to taste
  
  To serve
  several handfuls fresh spinach, rinsed and dried
• 1. Preheat oven to 200°C/400°F. In a medium-sized bowl, combine the chickpeas and chopped potatoes with the coriander, cumin, sea salt, garlic, ginger and lime zest. Drizzle over the lime juice and olive oil and mix well to coat everything.
  
  2. Spread the mixture into a rimmed baking sheet or shallow baking pan (if it’s on the small side, use two). Bake for 40 minutes, stirring halfway to ensure even browning.
  
  3. While the chickpeas and potatoes are roasting, prepare the dressing. Whisk together all ingredients in small bowl and set aside.
  
  4. When the chickpeas and potatoes come out of the oven, let them cool for ten minutes or so before proceeding- you want this to be warm, not hot. Serve over the spinach with the dressing drizzled on top, either individually or from a large platter.

There’s something about traveling that makes your own habits, culinary or otherwise, glaringly obvious. It’s only when you’re taken out of your day-to-day routine that odd quirks, individual preferences and (at times) OCD tendencies come to light.

Take my recent trip home, for instance. It was wonderful not to worry about cooking for a spell, to simply relax and enjoy the delicious meals presented by my Mum, aunts, Grandma and various waiters, and not think about the cleanup or health factor (holiday food doesn’t have calories, right?). But food prepared by others, no matter how delicious, is never done exactly the way you’d do it, is it?

So when we got home last week, I began (somewhat grudgingly) to cook my own way again. As I was sprinkling some chili flakes into some-or-other dish with which to soothe and nourish our jet-lagged souls, Andrew came into the kitchen and paused. “Your family doesn’t like spicy foods as much as we do, do they?” he asked.

I stopped in mid-stir, thinking. It’s not as if I grew up eating bland, flavourless food or anything; in fact, both my parents profess to like spicy foods. But Andrew was right: there was a decided lack of spice on this most recent holiday. In fact, the only dish I recall eating that had my preferred level of heat was one that I made myself. (Yes, my mum insisted that I cook a non-traditional Thanksgiving meal for my aunt, uncle and cousins one night: cannelloni, braised cabbage and pumpkin pie.) But if my parents’ version of spicy isn’t exactly the same as mine, it’s probably due to breadth rather than depth. I’m sure they see spice as something limited to certain kinds of foods, while in my opinion, there’s precious little that can’t be made more delicious with a pinch of dried pepper flakes or a sprinkling of chopped fresh chili.

Ironically (after all that), this dish is not actually all that spicy. It is, however, wonderfully fragrant, sweet, and absolutely perfect for this time of year. The recipe, from Nigel Slater’s new book, originally called for pumpkin, which I didn’t have any of at the time. It was tasty with my favourite squash though, so much so that I’m sure I’ll be making it again this way.

The naan is adapted from a Deborah Madison recipe I’ve used for several years, though I opt to grill these rather than bake them, as she suggests. Crispy outside and doughy inside, with a a smear of melted butter and a sprinkle of sea salt, they’re the perfect accompaniment to not just this, but any curry. And they’ll take the edge off anything too-spicy, in case your tastes run opposite to mine ;)

• Squash and Chickpea Curry with Lemongrass and Coriander
• adapted from Nigel Slater’s Tender, Volume I
• serves 4
• 2 Tbs. olive oil (or use a neutral vegetable one if you prefer)
  1 large onion, chopped
  3 stalks lemongrass, outer leaves removed
  3 cloves garlic, peeled and crushed
  thumb-sized piece of ginger, peeled
  2 tsp ground coriander
  1 tsp ground turmeric
  4 cardamom pods, crushed
  2 hot red chilis, finely chopped (or 1/2 tsp. crushed chili flakes)
  1 small butternut squash, peeled, seeded and cut into bite-sized chunks
  200g dried chickpeas, soaked overnight and simmered until tender (or use 2 x 400g cans)
  1 x 400g can of coconut milk
  approx. 1 cup of stock (or water)
  1/4 cup chopped fresh coriander
• 1. Heat the oil in a large, heavy-bottomed saucepan over medium-low heat. When the oil is hot, add the onions and cook until soft and translucent.
  
  2. Meanwhile, make a rough paste of the garlic, lemongrass and ginger, either using a food processor or a mortar and pestle. Add this to the onions, along with the coriander, turmeric, cardamom and chili. Stir well and continue to cook over a low heat (you may need to add some water to keep the mixture from sticking).
  
  3. Add the squash and chickpeas, and pour in the coconut milk. Add just enough stock or water to almost cover the squash (about 1 cup), then partially cover the pan and simmer until the squash is tender to your liking. This should take 20-25 minutes; if you feel there is too much liquid, remove the lid toward the end of the cooking time and allow some of the moisture to evaporate.
  
  4. Remove curry from the heat and stir in the chopped coriander. Serve with naan (recipe below) and a dollop of Greek yogurt.

• Naan
• adapted from Deborah Madison’s Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone
• makes 4 small naans
• 1 tsp. instant yeast
  1/3 cup plain yogurt (I use Greek-style)
  2 Tbs. butter
  3/4 tsp. sea salt
  1/2 cup hot water
  1 1/2 cups plain flour (I sometimes use 1 cup plain and 1/2 cup whole wheat)
  1 tsp. butter (for the tops, optional)
  sea salt (for sprinkling, optional)
• 1. Put the yeast, yogurt, butter and salt together in a medium bowl. Pour over the hot water and whisk until the butter has melted and everything is mixed together.
  
  2. Gradually add in the flour, stirring with a wooden spoon or a dough whisk. Turn out onto a lightly floured surface and knead for 3-4 minutes, until smooth. The dough should be soft but not too sticky; you may need to add a bit more flour. Place the dough in an oiled bowl, cover and let rise for 1 hour.
  
  3. Preheat the grill/broiler. Divide the dough into 4 pieces and pull, stretch or roll each one into a flat, oblong shape. Arrange the naans on a nonstick baking sheet and place under the grill until the tops begin to brown, about 4 minutes. Flip and cook the other sides until they brown, too.
  
  4. If you like, brush 1/4 tsp. of butter on the top of each naan as soon as they are removed from the oven. Sprinkle over some sea salt (I also like chopped fresh coriander on these) and serve with any type of curry.

We’ve been eating a lot of scrambled eggs lately, both for weekend breakfasts and quick dinners during the week. While 2008 was definitely the Year of the Fried Egg around here, scrambled eggs have emerged as a late frontrunner in 2009. Who knows what next year will hold, but I don’t see our tastes changing anytime soon- they’re simply too delicious.

When I was growing up, scrambled eggs were always my comfort food. My mum made them for me whenever I was sick, worried about something, or had my braces tightened. (Thank goodness, otherwise I would have lived on ice cream and instant pudding alone for several days every three months. Actually, I probably would have enjoyed that.) I liked my eggs cooked quickly over a high heat, with minimal stirring to ensure the desired texture of separate, dry curds. Even a hint of “wet” to my eggs turned me right back to the ice cream.

When I got older and discovered cooking, I realized that my eggs of choice were hardly “choice” at all, according to the culinary elite. Most of my food heroes (Mark, Nigel, Nigella) advocate a slow-cooked, low-heat scramble as one that’s the most authentic. (By authentic I think they mean French; a Cordon Bleu-trained chef would likely regard my childhood eggs as nothing more than a broken-up omelette.) I gradually came around to this method, and these days I cook my eggs ever so slowly over the lowest of heats to achieve the creamiest, fluffiest result.

This recipe was my effort to make my go-to scramble recipe a little more interesting, and perhaps use up some veg from the crisper while I was at it. The sweetness of the corn works so well with the cheese, and makes this good for those who like a sweeter meal in the mornings. It might not be completely authentic, but it sure is good.

Note: I haven’t given cooking times for this recipe, as it really depends on the type of stove you have, and the pan you use. I have gas burners here in the UK, and my eggs become “slow-cooked” within ten minutes. At home in my Mum’s kitchen, with an electric stove and a cast-iron pan, I can stretch that to 20 or 30 if I want to. The point is, the slower the cooking, the creamier the eggs.

• Scrambled Eggs with Fresh Corn
• serves two
• 2 tsp. butter
  kernels from 1 cob of corn, removed like this
  4 spring onions, finely chopped
  1 small red chili, finely chopped
  4 eggs
  2 Tbs. milk
  salt and pepper
  1/2 cup grated cheddar
  2 Tbs. chopped fresh coriander
• 1. Heat the butter over medium heat in a non-stick frying pan. When it foams, add the corn, spring onions and chili and cook for 3-4 minutes. While the corn cooks, whisk the eggs and milk with a pinch of salt and grind of pepper in a small jug.
  
  2. Turn the heat down to very low and add the egg mixture to the frying pan. Let sit for a minute or so, until soft curds begin to form on the bottom of the pan. Using a wooden spoon or spatula, begin to break up these curds and any others that form, keeping the mixture moving all the time.
  
  3. When the eggs are mainly set, add the cheese and coriander. Keep the mixture moving until it’s done to your liking (if you like drier scrambled eggs, simply turn up the heat at this point). Serve with toast.

I’ve always loved grilled cheese sandwiches. Comfort food at its finest, there is nothing more heartening than two pieces of bread fried with butter or olive oil (I use the latter and can’t tell the difference), with a layer of melted cheese between. My Mum makes the best ones. She has the patience to cook them very slowly over low heat in a heavy pan, essential for reaching that optimum balance of molten inside and crunchy outside.

But this isn’t a post about grilled cheese sandwiches. No, it’s a post about grilled cheese sandwich accompaniments, namely, chutneys. This wasn’t always my dip of choice, until recently I was a fan of Sambal Oelek, the Indonesian hot chili condiment. But on our trip to New York City last month, Andrew and I lunched with a friend at SoHo’s Hampton Chutney Co. , which completely changed my views on the subject. 

We ordered our dosas, the South Indian sourdough crepes for which this place is famous, without actually seeing one, and looked at each other with a mixture of fear and trepidation when they actually appeared. These things are huge. Luckily, they’re also paper-thin, so are much less substantial than they appear. 

It wasn’t the dosas themselves that inspired me, though. The Hampton Chutney Co. serves each meal with a choice of chutney (naturally), which for me, far outshone anything else on the table. I ate my cheese dosa with the tomato and cilantro versions, a completely transformative experience. Rather than just “spicy”, these little taste-boosters were practically alive with flavour. I knew immediately that I needed to make some myself, and this past weekend, craving grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch, was the perfect opportunity to try.

The coriander chutney was easy. Much like an Asian-style pesto, I simply pureed a bunch of coriander with some green onions, chili, lime juice, and a touch of sugar to cut the sharpness. Much simpler than the rudimentary recipe given on the Hampton Chutney Co. website, it was nontheless exactly what I was after.

The tomato version was a bit trickier. Most recipes I came across online contained chopped tomatoes and vinegar, and were matured for some time. Well, I didn’t have time- and I wasn’t after that sharp, pickled taste anyway. The tomato chutney I’d tried had been an altogether different animal; smoother, sweeter and richer. I began with the idea that several different forms of tomatoes (fresh, sundried and paste) would provide the depth I needed, and took it from there. With a pinch of chili flakes, some fresh parsley and a touch of garlic to keep things interesting, I cracked it. Not a complete doppelgänger, but delicious just the same.

These chutneys were fantastic with our grilled cheese sandwiches, and equally tasty in some wholewheat quesadillas the next day. Yesterday, I had the remainders in some scrambled eggs for lunch, but I can think of a million ways to use these. I definitely recommend giving them a go, if only to spice up your old grilled cheese. 

• Tomato Chutney
• makes about 1 1/2 cups
• 100g seeded (but not skinned) cherry tomatoes
  5 sundried tomatoes, reconstituted in hot water and chopped finely
  2 Tbs. tomato paste
  1 tsp. ground cumin
  1/2 tsp. chili flakes
  1 tsp. sea salt
  1/2 clove garlic, minced
  15 g (a small bunch) parsley, chopped 
  1 tsp. sea salt
  1 Tbs. olive oil 
• 1. Put all ingredients in a food processor and blitz until combined. (Alternatively, you could place all ingredients in a bowl and use an immersion blender, as I do.)

• Coriander Chutney
• makes about 1 cup
• 100g coriander (about 3 cups), thick stems removed
  5 green onions, chopped (white and green parts)
  1 small green chili, chopped
  2 tsp. ground cumin 
  1 tsp. sea salt
  1 tsp. sugar
  zest and juice of one lime
  2 Tbs. olive oil
• 1. Put all ingredients in a food processor and blitz until combined. (Alternatively, you could place all ingredients in a bowl and use an immersion blender, as I do.)

It’s that time of year when I become completely uninspired in the cooking department. No matter how excited I am to first see the summer produce at the market, by mid-June I just don’t know what to do with it anymore. 

I think this might have to do with the fact that I’m Canadian, and summer food is (relatively) foreign to me. I mean, sure we have it, but the season is so comparatively short that my knowledge of warm-weather cooking is limited at best. When I was a kid summer meant barbecues in the backyard, but since I now a) don’t have a backyard and b) no longer eat meat, that’s hardly an option. I’m geographically wired to crave winter foods, and my stamina for summer is sorely lacking. Once I’ve made a few fresh salads and a pasta primavera or two, I’m lost. My winter standbys of curries, roasted veg and soups don’t seem so appealing when the sun is still shining at dinnertime.  

When I’m lacking inspiration like this, I tend to fall back on an old trick: using up things in the fridge. Strangely, nothing makes me feel so creative as boundaries. This was true back in fashion school, when designing for a painfully constrictive brief, and it’s true now on a Saturday evening, hungry but at loss for what to cook. 

Which brings me to the scene in my kitchen earlier this afternoon: me, opening my fridge in confusion and despair, searching for something that might bring back my will to cook. The carrots I bought last Sunday were begging to be used, going slightly soft in the vegetable crisper. At this point they were only suitable for soup, which for me has always had a slightly autumnal feeling. But then I spied some leftover coconut milk in the door of the fridge, and had an idea. Surely a Thai-style carrot soup was summery? 

A glance in my favourite go-to cookbook gave me the framework for a recipe, and slowly, I began to feel somewhat excited at the prospect of food again. I rustled up some garlic, ginger and chilis from around the kitchen, dashed out to the shops for some lemongrass, and began to improvise dinner. 

This soup ended up being delicious as well as economical- rich and creamy, but fresh-tasting at the same time. Most importantly, it cured my mental block, at least for one evening.

• Thai-style Carrot and Coconut Soup
• adapted from How to Cook Everything Vegetarian by Mark Bittman
• serves 2
• 1 Tbs. neutral oil
  1/2 onion, finely chopped
  2 cloves garlic, peeled and crushed lightly
  1 small red chili, de-seeded and finely chopped
  2 small stalks lemongrass, trimmed, bruised and cut into 2″ pieces
  200g carrots, washed and cut into 1″ chunks. 
  small bunch coriander, leaves and stems separated, leaves chopped
  1 cup coconut milk
  2 cups water
  salt, pepper, sugar to taste 
• 1. Heat the oil over medium heat in a heavy-bottomed saucepan. Add the onions and cook until lightly golden, about 5 minutes. 
  
  2. Add the garlic, chili and lemongrass, and cook for two minutes more. Add the carrots and coriander stalks, and cook for a further minutes. 
  
  3. Add the coconut milk and water and turn the heat down to low. Cover and simmer gently for 15-20 minutes, until carrots are tender when pierced. 
  
  4. Remove from heat and let cool slightly. Carefully fish out the coriander stalks and lemongrass. Puree, either with an immersion blender, or a food processor.
  
  5. Stir in the chopped coriander leaves. Taste, adding salt, pepper, and/or a pinch of sugar as necessary. Re-heat if needed and serve. 
   

I feel irrationally anxious about posting a recipe on this blog that contains meat. Now that I’ve announced to the world that I don’t eat it, you’d think I’d stand by that claim. To be fair though, I did say that my diet was largely vegetarian, not completely, and besides, I have a very good reason for this.

See, I love pancetta. I love its deep saltyness, love how it makes the flavour of any ingredient you pair it with come alive. They say that bacon is the one thing many vegetarians miss the most when they give up meat. Well, pancetta is my bacon of choice.

Perhaps coincidentally, (or perhaps not, seeing as I used to cook with it all the time), it’s also my boyfriend’s bacon of choice. So for Andrew’s birthday earlier this month, I bought 100g of pancetta at the supermarket, in order to make one of his favourite dishes. Of course the recipe (Shrimp and Beans by Giuliano Hazan- you must try it, it’s delicious) only called for half of that, and the leftover sat in the fridge for about a week while I fretted. Surely one meaty meal, for a loved one’s birthday, is forgiveable? But two? I wasn’t sure. But letting the remains go to waste- that’s got to be worse than eating it, right? In the end my desire for pancetta waste reduction won out, and I decided to use up the leftovers with this fried rice dish. 

Of course the rice here is not actually rice. I love this classic Chinese dish, but had been getting a little bored of it earlier this year. Ever since I saw this post from The Kitchn, however, I’ve fallen back in love. I love farro, the ancient grain of the Romans, and using it in place of rice makes perfect sense. Barely changing the flavours at all, the chewy, nutty grains simply improve the texture of the dish. 

The addition of the pancetta might seem odd at first. I’ve been doing this since high school, but I can understand how the addition of something so clearly Italian to a dish so obviously Asian might seem strange to some purists. But trust me: with the shrimp, vegetables and curry powder, this is fusion at its best.

• Curry Fried Farro with Egg, Shrimp and Pancetta
• serves 4
• 2 Tbs. neutral oil
  1 small onion
  1 bell pepper (any colour), cored, seeded and roughly chopped
  50g pancetta, chopped or sliced finely
  g raw shrimp, peeled and de-veined
  3/4 cup fresh or frozen peas (if frozen, defrost them first)
  1 tsp. minced fresh garlic
  2 tsp. minced fresh ginger 
  1 small red chili, de-seeded and chopped finely
  2 tsp. hot curry powder
  2 to 3 cups cooked farro
  2 eggs, lightly beaten
  2 Tbs. soy sauce
  2 Tbs. sesame oil 
  1/4 cup finely chopped green onion
  2 Tbs. finely chopped coriander
• 1. Once you’ve got everything mise en place, (which can take some time with so many ingredients, but is very worth it for a recipe like this!), heat 1 Tbs. of the oil in a large nonstick pan over med-high heat. Add the onion and pepper and cook for 5-10 minutes, until they soften and begin to brown. Transfer to a bowl and set aside. 
  
  2. Turn the heat up to high and add the pancetta. Cook for about a minute, then add the shrimp. When they are pink all the way through and the pancetta is getting crispy (about 1-2 minutes later), add the mixture to the bowl with the onion and pepper. 
  
  3. Briefly add the peas to the pan to warm them through, about one minute. Add to the bowl with everything else.
  
  4. Put the remaining oil in the pan and heat through. Add the garlic, ginger and chili, and cook for about 30 seconds. Add the curry powder, mix quickly, and then add the farro. Stir so that the farro gets evenly coated with the oil/garlic/ginger mixture. 
  
  5. After a minute or so, when the farro is warmed through, push it  to the sides of the pan so you have a space in the middle. Add the beaten eggs and leave to cook for about 30 seconds without touching them. Then start to scramble the eggs- you can either scramble them in the well completely, to leave more curds, or mix into the farro mixture, in which way they act like a thickener. 
  
  6. Add the veggies, pancetta and shrimp back into the pan, and stir to heat through. After a minute or two, stir in the soy sauce, sesame oil, green onions and coriander. Remove from heat and serve immediately. 

As I mentioned on Sunday, macaroni and cheese has got to be one of my favourite dishes of all time. Sure, I’ve graduated from the Kraft Dinner I loved as a kid (and, um, university student), and these days I’m more likely to experiment with making my own. But really, I’ll take it any way: stovetop, baked, from a package, homemade. I’ve never met a macaroni and cheese that I didn’t like, and I’ve met a lot. 

The original version is known in my house as “Grandma’s Macaroni and Cheese”, because, perhaps predictably, it’s made with my grandmother’s recipe. A classic, baked mac ‘n cheese, it’s the type where you toss the cooked pasta with flour, cheese, salt and pepper in a baking dish, and pour over milk before baking. My mum, sister and I were all raised on this dish, and though we love it in its original form, over the years we’ve developed variations on it. “Grandma’s Macaroni and Cheese with Tomatoes” is a favourite, as was “Grandma’s Macaroni and Cheese with Tomatoes and Ham”, back in my meat-eating days. 

I’m also partial to the kind of m&c with a béchamel base. Adding a load of cheese to a classic white sauce is simple, quick and ridiculously versatile: you can use almost any kind of cheese you can think of, and the possibilities for additions are endless. In my flat, we particularly like it with leeks or green onions, which go perfectly with strong cheddar cheese. Plus, the béchamel-type versions can be eaten in two ways: baked, if you fancy a crispy, cheesy or bread-crumbed crust, or unbaked, if you’re just into the sauce and are too lazy to wait the extra 20 minutes. (That was me last night.)

I’ve even made this recipe by Nigella Lawson, which is delicious, but too rich even for me. The sauce is thickened by evaporated milk, eggs, and such a huge amount of cheese that it should really be called “Delicious Coronary on a Plate”. If that moniker doesn’t bother you, I highly recommend it. 

Back to the recipe at hand, though. I was thinking recently about how to spice up my mainstay m&c, the aforementioned béchamel version with green onions. I decided to try adding some chili (though in the end I used chili flakes, as I didn’t have any fresh stuff around) and lots of fresh coriander to liven it up a bit. Andrew and I love Asian food, and around here we subscribe to the belief that almost anything can be made better by adding chili and coriander. I wonder why it took us so long to add it to the macaroni and cheese, then? 

Anyway, the resulting dish was superb, both last night in the unbaked version, and earlier today, when I baked the leftovers in a ramekin for my lunch. 

• Macaroni and Cheese with Green Onions, Chili and Coriander
• serves 2
• 200g macaroni, penne, rigatoni or other pasta shape
  2 Tbs. butter
  5-6 green onions, chopped finely
  1/2 tsp. chili flakes, OR
  1 fresh red chili, de-seeded and chopped finely
  2 Tbs. flour
  1 1/2 cup milk
  1 cup grated strong chedder
  1/4 cup crumbled goat’s cheese
  3 Tbs. chopped coriander
  salt and pepper
  extra grated cheddar, for baking (optional) 
• 1. Put a large pot of water on to boil. Preheat the oven to 175°C/350°F, if you plan on baking the pasta. Also for baking, butter a gratin dish or several small ramekins. 
  
  2. When the water is boiling, salt it generously and add the pasta. Cook until just al dente, drain, and set aside. 
  
  3. In a large saucepan, melt the butter over medium heat until it begins to foam. Add the chopped green onions and the chili (flakes), and cook gently for two minutes.
  
  4. Add the flour and, using a whisk, quickly stir to make a paste. Cook for about 30 seconds, then pour in the milk. Heat, whisking constantly, for about 3-4 minutes, until the mixture thickens to the consistency of heavy cream. 
  
  5. Add the cheeses and stir until melted. Mix in the coriander, salt and pepper to taste, add the pasta and mix to combine.
  
  6. If you’re baking this pasta, pour it into your prepared dish(es) and sprinkle the extra cheddar on top. Bake for approximately 20 minutes, until golden on top and bubbling around the edges. Let sit for 5 minutes before serving.