My cookbook review blog Kitchlit has been sorely neglected these past six months. While I love writing reviews, they do take an inordinate amount of time and energy to complete to any good standard. I’m hoping to get back on top of things in the Fall, but in the meantime I’m feeling a little guilty about the time I spend over here and at Kitchenisms, while poor Kitchlit is left behind.

Especially since I’m hardly short of reading (and reviewing) material. Anjum’s New Indian was a Christmas present, one that I really should be sharing more of with you. I picked it up the other day to assist with my recent Italian-food embargo, thinking that authentic Indian dishes were just the distraction I needed. The recipe I opted to try, a whole lentil curry, was just the ticket.

I changed very few things from the original recipe, the most fundamental of which was the type of lentils. I wasn’t able to find the specified masoor variety, so I substituted with French puy. Actually, that’s a lie- I didn’t look even look for the right kind, but I had a package of puy burning a whole in my pantry and somehow knew they’d be perfect for this dish. Since the whole appeal of this curry is that the lentils hold their shape during cooking, rather than dissolving into formless mush, I figured what better lentil than the chef’s sturdy favourite?

This curry is delicious over rice for dinner, with some raita or yogurt on the side. But in my opinion, the best way to eat any lentil curry is to heap the leftovers on a heated naan bread (packaged is fine, but homemade better), as a sort of “Indian beans on toast”. Sprinkle with some extra coriander and I guarantee that it will be one of the best leftover experiences of your life.

Now, if I can just sort out my leftover blog, I’ll be all set.

• Whole Lentil Curry
• adapted from Anjum’s New Indian by Anjum Anand
• serves 4-6
• 250g puy lentils, rinsed
  12g fresh peeled ginger
  4 garlic cloves, peeled
  3 Tbs. olive oil
  2 tsp. cumin seeds
  1/2 an onion, finely chopped
  1 tsp. ground coriander
  1/2 tsp. garam masala
  1/2 tsp. chili powder
  1/2 tsp. turmeric
  1/2 tsp. salt
  3/4 cup passata
  1/2 cup chopped fresh coriander (leaves and stalks)
• 1. Place the lentils and about 1.1 litres of cold water in a large saucepan and bring to the boil. Lower the heat and simmer, covered, until the lentils are soft, about 40 minutes. Stir occasionally to ensure the lentils don’t stick.
  
  2. Meanwhile, make a paste of the ginger and garlic using a food processor or spice grinder (add a splash of water to help them blend). Set aside.
  
  3. When the lentils are about 10 minutes away from being ready, heat the oil in a small saucepan and add the cumin seeds. Cook until fragrant then add the onion, frying gently until it’s golden brown. Add the ginger/garlic paste and cook for another minute or so, before mixing in the spices and salt.
  
  4. Pour in the passata and simmer until the mixture has thickened, about 3-5 minutes. At this point, the oil should be coming out of the masala and it will taste smooth.
  
  5. Add the masala into the pot with the simmering lentils and cook for another 10 minutes. Add a little more water from the kettle if you think the curry is too thick. Stir in the coriander, adjust the salt if necessary, and serve.

What do you eat, when you’re eating alone? Say your husband/boyfriend/roommate is out for the evening, and you’re settling in to dine solo. You’ve got your favourite embarrassing music on, or maybe you’re eating in front of the TV, watching that show you love that they just don’t get (my choice would be Gossip Girl or Ugly Betty, depending on the night). What’s on your plate?

Some people can’t be bothered to cook, minus the adoring audience. While I’m not really in it for the praise, I admit that I’ll often turn to a quick standby like scrambled eggs if it’s just me. Some use solitary evenings as an opportunity to experiment, testing new recipes or ingredients. Still others make the things they love but their partners’ can’t stand, an approach I like. Specifically? I have risotto.

On the surface of it, risotto hardly seems worth making for just one person. All that ladling and careful stirring, when there’s no one around to praise you? Bizarre, you might think. Unfortunately, I don’t get to make it for others that often. Andrew isn’t the biggest risotto fan (he thinks it’s “too much of the same flavour”) and I find it a bit time-consuming to make on the rare occasions we have friends over for dinner.

So if I want risotto, it’s got to be per uno. Luckily, I was in just such a solitary situation the other day, when Andrew went out for drinks with a friend. The only problem was my lack of ingredients; no stock, barely any vegetables, and only a few sprigs of sage in the way of fresh herbs. Still, I wasn’t to be deterred, and dreamed up this tomato-sage risotto as a way of using up what little I did have.

In place of a pan of bubbling stock, I used a little Marigold Bouillon Powder and water from the kettle, which was so quick and easy that I’m now wondering why I even bother doing it any other way. The tomato-sage combination wasn’t as odd as I’d feared, and in fact it made a nice autumnal change from the more obvious tomato-basil. In the end, this was a perfect single-serving TV dinner.

• Tomato Sage Risotto
• serves 1
• 1 Tbs. butter
  2 shallots, finely chopped
  1 tsp. finely chopped sage
  1/2 a garlic clove, minced
  1 Tbs. tomato paste
  2 smallish tomatoes, skinned, seeded and chopped
  115g arborio rice
  1/4 cup white wine
  1/2 tsp. bouillon powder
  2 Tbs. grated parmesan cheese
  sea salt and black pepper
• 1. Bring about 1 litre of water to boil in a kettle by the stove. In a heavy-bottomed saucepan, melt the butter over medium-high heat. Add the shallots and cook until soft and translucent.
  
  2. Add the sage and minced garlic and cook for another 2 minutes, until fragrant. Add the tomato paste and tomatoes, and cook for another 2 minutes until bubbling. Add the rice and stir until everything is well coated.
  
  3. Pour in the white wine and stir until it has absorbed, about a minute or two. Then add about 1/2 cup of water from the kettle (there’s no need to measure, just add a bit at a time) along with the bouillon powder and stir until that has also absorbed.
  
  4. Continue adding water from the kettle a little at a time, stirring after each addition to make sure it’s been absorbed, before adding the next amount. Do this for about 16 minutes, then begin to taste the rice.
  
  5. When the risotto is cooked to your liking, remove from the heat and stir in the parmesan cheese, and season to taste with salt and pepper. Serve with more parmesan and crispy sage leaves (fried in a little butter), if you like.

I realize that this curry, relying as it does on pantry staples, seems a little odd for the time of year. It’s hearty and filling and doesn’t require any fresh produce at all, nor half the attention I lavish on other dishes during these warmer months. What can I say, though? Sometimes I find myself craving something warm and spicy, and sometimes I just plain can’t be bothered with all the washing, chopping and cooking that (most) fresh veggies ask of me. At times like that, whatever the season, I turn to this recipe.

I’ve been making this dish, or versions thereof, for about as long as Andrew and I have been living in this flat. We love Indian food, and though there are many great curry houses in the area (six in a three-block radius; it is London, after all), all the curries, sidedishes, naans and rice can eventually take their toll, on wallet and waistline. Sometimes, we prefer to stay in and have something a bit simpler. This recipe is quick, delicious and healthy; served with brown rice and a dollop of Greek yogurt, it’s almost better than the restaurant fare. 

Fantastically easy, it’s also made up entirely of things you’re likely to find in your kitchen cupboards at this moment. I don’t think of it as any particular kind of curry- that is, I’m not sure if it qualifies as a Chana Masala or any other variety. Rather, it’s just a combination of ingredients and flavours that I like, and usually have lying around: canned chickpeas, chopped tomatoes and a generous dose of dried spices. 

It certainly doesn’t disappoint for its lack of authenticity, though, and I defy any curry lover not to like this dish. It might be hearty and filling, but it’s not heavy; the fresh ginger and coriander keep things bright and vibrant. So don’t feel like you have to wait for the winter to make it. I certainly don’t. 

• Spicy Chickpea Curry
• serves 4
• 3 Tbs. olive oil
  1 medium onion, chopped
  2 cloves garlic, minced
  1″ piece of ginger, minced 
  1 tsp. ground cumin
  1 tsp. ground coriander
  1/2 tsp. turmeric
  1/2 tsp. cayenne pepper
  1/2 tsp. chili flakes
  1/4 tsp. ground cinnamon
  2 x 400g cans chickpeas, drained and rinsed
  1 x 400g can chopped tomatoes 
  1 tsp. sea salt
  chopped fresh coriander, to serve
  plain greek yogurt, to serve 
• 1. Heat the olive oil in a large, heavy-bottomed saucepan over medium heat (I use a dutch oven). When the oil is hot, add the onion and cook for five minutes, until soft and translucent. 
  
  2. Add the garlic and ginger, and cook for another minutes. Add the cumin, coriander, turmeric, cayenne, chili flakes and cinnamon, and cook for another minute. 
  
  3. Add the chickpeas, tomatoes and salt to the pan and stir. If the mixture seems too dry, add a bit of water, maybe half a cup. Cover, turn the heat down to low and cook for 20 minutes, stirring occasionally and adding water if necessary. Let the curry sit for ten minutes before serving with rice, yogurt and fresh coriander. 

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.)

A recipe for foil-baked feta has been making the internet rounds in the past few weeks. Originally published in Olive magazine, I first saw it at The Kitchn, and later on one of my favourite home and design blogs, At Home At Home. Of course, from the moment I first saw the ingredients in this recipe, I knew I just had to make it. 

I’ve been having a feta-and-tomato thing this summer, a Mediterranean moment if you will, so of course this combination of feta cheese, tomatoes, herbs and chili appealed to me. I first made it about two weeks ago, almost immediately after seeing the recipe. Predictably, I loved it, and soon found myself raving about it to my Dad on the phone. After listening intently, he came out with “Sounds good, but of course you wouldn’t need to use the foil.”

Huh? Ok Dad, have you not been listening? The foil is the whole point of this recipe. It’s what makes is so casual, so simple, so appropriate for summer barbecues. Then I thought about it, and realized he was right. I don’t have a barbecue, and in the oven, a small baking dish can easily replace the foil wrapper. Baking this in individual ramekins also makes it easier to reduce the proportions of the recipe, as well as use cubed feta instead of a block.  

With that in mind, I set out to make this again last night, as a sort of late snack, light dinner for Andrew and myself. I opted to serve it with Nigella Lawson‘s Garlic and Parsley Hearthbreads, a focaccia-like flatbread that’s easy to make and goes with pretty much anything. 

The original baked feta recipe called for tomato paste and chopped tomatoes, to which I added a few reconstituted sundried tomatoes. I love the intense, sweet flavour they impart, and look for an excuse to use them whenever possible. It also called for capers, which I’ve always hated (I don’t even understand what they are, nor do I want to know), so I subbed a squeeze of lemon juice. Because I couldn’t find any fresh oregano within ten minutes of my house, I gave up and used dried. 

None of these additions or substitutions seemed to negatively affect the outcome of this dish. It turned out deliciously fresh and flavourful, and made a perfect dinner for a summer’s evening. If you haven’t yet, I urge you to try this. Whether or not you want to use the foil method is a moot point- just make it, you won’t regret it! 

• Baked Feta and Tomatoes
• adapted from Olive magazine, via The Kitchn
• makes 2 small ramekins, each serving one person
• 3 tsp. olive oil
  2 tsp. tomato paste 
  100g feta cheese, crumbled
  1/2 red onion, chopped finely
  2 large cherry tomatoes, de-seeded and chopped roughly
  3 sundried tomatoes, reconstituted in hot water and chopped finely
  1 clove garlic, chopped finely
  1/2 tsp. dried oregano
  1/2 tsp. chili flakes 
  1 tsp. lemon juice 
  pinch sea salt
• 1. Preheat your oven to 200°C/400°F. Drizzle 1 teaspoon of olive oil in the bottom of each ramekin, and add 1/2 teaspoon tomato paste to each as well. Using a silicone pastry brush, spread the oil and tomato paste around the bottom and sides of the ramekins, to coat. 
  
  2. Put a quarter of the crumbled feta in the bottom of each ramekin, and follow with a quarter of the red onion, chopped tomatoes, sundried tomatoes, garlic, oregano and chili flakes.
  
  3. Repeat step 2, layering the remaining amounts of the same ingredients again. Over the top of each ramekin, drizzle the remaining olive oil and tomato paste, as well as the lemon juice. Finish each with a small pinch of sea salt and cover with foil.
  
  4. Bake for 15 minutes until cheese is melted and bubbly. Let sit for 10 minutes before serving with fresh bread. 
• Note: In lieu of individual ramekins, you could always make this in a small, covered baking dish. 

• Parsley Hearthbreads
• adapted from How to be a Domestic Goddess by Nigella Lawson
• makes one, serves two
• 250g plain flour
  4g instant (easy-blend) yeast
  1 tsp sea salt 
  3 Tbs. olive oil, plus more for drizzling
  1/2 cup warm water
  1 clove garlic
  1/4 cup chopped parsley
  pinch sea salt 
• 1. In a large bowl, mix together the flour, yeast and salt. Drizzle in the olive oil and pour over the warm water. Using a spoon or a dough whisk, mix to form a smooth, workable dough. 
  
  2. Turn out onto a lightly floured surface and knead for about eight minutes, until the dough is smooth and elastic. Lightly coat with olive oil and place in a clingfilm-covered bowl for about an hour, until doubled in size. 
  
  3. When the dough has risen, punch it down and leave to rest for another ten minutes. At this point, preheat your oven to 200°C/400°F. 
  
  4. Place the dough on a parchment-lined baking sheet and roll out to a 1/2″ thickness. Using your fingers, gently “dimple” the bread all over. Drizzle a bit of olive oil over the top and brush with a pastry brush to ensure an even coating. 
  
  5. Cut the garlic in half and carefully rub the cut sides over the surface of the oiled dough. Sprinkle over the parsley and a pinch or two of sea salt, and bake for 20 minutes, until golden. Serve warm.

I think I’m in a Mediterranean state of mind, today. Is there such thing as a Mediterranean state of mind? I’m sure there must be. Waking up with the sun in my eyes was probably what did it, and I haven’t been able to shake that “holiday” feeling all day.

Firstly, I posted this over at Kitchenisms, which only fed the fire, and then I proceeded to buy two new bathing suits online for no good reason at all. (Well, that’s not strictly true: they were my favourite brand, hugely on sale, the last ones in my size, and I’m only planning on keeping one. So keep your hat on, Mum.) Anyway, the point is: I was in the mood to post something slightly festive on the old blog today.

I’ve only ever been on one holiday that could be described as Mediterranean, when Andrew and I went to Cinque Terre last August. This recipe, while delicious, doesn’t have much to do with my memories from that trip, as I don’t recall eating anything quite like this. (I can’t quite remember clearly though, too busy was I worrying about being the whitest person on the beach. Honestly, until the third day when a redhead showed up and made me feel a bit better.) It is the kind of thing that I can imagine would go down well on some sun-soaked patio, though, enjoyed gazing over the olive groves toward the sea, sipping a glass of Pinot Grigio. Fresh-tasting and vibrant, it’s pure, unadulterated summer.  

I have found that it’s very important to use, not only fresh, but good tomatoes in this dish. The mealy out-of-season ones won’t do at all; all flavour will be lost, and the end effect will be more rubbish than riviera. 

Other than that small stipulation, though, this dish is also infinitely adaptable. By changing the herbs and cheese you use it can go from Greece to Spain, France and back to Italy. It’s delicious on it’s own, with some crusty bread for dipping, or over pasta. 

• Roasted Tomatoes with Shrimp, Chili and Feta
• adapted from this recipe by The Kitchn
• serves 3 on its own or with bread, or 4 with pasta
• 6 small, ripe tomatoes, seeded and cut into eights
  2 cloves finely slices garlic
  1 small red chili, seeded and finely sliced
  2-3 Tbs. olive oil
  salt and pepper to taste
  2 Tbs. chopped parsley, oregano, coriander or basil (optional)
  200g peeled and de-veined, medium shrimp
  100g crumbled Feta cheese 
• 1. Preheat the oven to 200°C/425°F. 2. Place the tomatoes into the bottom of a dutch oven-type baking dish, and sprinkle over the garlic and chili. Drizzle in the olive oil, add some salt (not too much, as the cheese will add salt later) and pepper, and give the dish a shake. Bake for 25 minutes. 

  3. Remove dish from the oven and stir in the fresh herb, if using. Scatter the shrimp over the top of the dish, and sprinkle the feta cheese on top of that. Return to the oven and cook for 5-10 minutes, or just until the shrimp are cooked. Serve immediately, alone or with bread or pasta.

I told you on Sunday that sandwiches have been the weekend lunch of choice around here. There is something wonderfully comforting and somewhat modest about tucking into two slices of bread with stuff between them. Andrew has it pretty easy – a couple of slices of honey roast ham, some turkey, a spreading of gourmet coleslaw and he’s happy. However, as someone who won’t eat meat or coleslaw (mayonnaise- ick), I have to be a little creative to keep my sandwiches exciting. My favourite way to do this is with spreads- a flavourful tapanade or pesto needs nothing alongside it other than some good cheese and fresh lettuce.

This Sundried Tomato is probably my best spread of all. Versatile and tasty, it’s a real crowd-pleaser. There are a lot of recipes for this kind of thing around, and to be honest, I’ve never tasted one I didn’t like. This version is inspired by my Mum, who told me over the phone sometime last summer about a similar version that her and my Dad had been enjoying. I’m not sure where she got her recipe, but it was slightly simpler than mine- just tomatoes, lemon juice, olive oil, salt and pepper. The combination really is amazing- the lemon juice just cuts the sweetness of the tomatoes. I, of course, have played around a little, adding garlic for a sharper flavour (she’d hate that) and parsley for added body.   

This spread is a real workhorse. Not limited to sandwiches, it’s also great with crackers, cheese, as an addition to soups and sauces, even with eggs. I also make a quick pasta that involves nothing more that tossing a couple of spoonfuls of this with pasta and freshly cooked prawns, and topping with parmesan. The spread also freezes very well. 

• Sundried Tomato Spread
• makes approximately 2 cups
• 240 grams semi-dried or sunblush tomatoes in olive oil
  100 grams dehydrated sundried tomatoes, soaked in boiling water and squeezed dry
  2 Tbs. lemon juice
  1 small bunch flat-leaf parsley, washed and dried 
  1 small clove garlic, minced finely 
• 1.  Place all ingredients in a food processor and whiz until smooth. Alternatively, put everything into a bowl and use an immersion blender. Season with salt and pepper to taste. 
• Variations: This spread has infinite possibilites. Replace the parsley with basil for a more Italian flavour, and change the proportion of sunblush to sundried tomatoes as you like. (The more dried your tomatoes, the more olive oil you’ll need to add.)