Category Archives: Gluten-free

Chicken, orange and fennel traybake and ringing bells

There are people who set off alarms bells — figuratively and metaphorically —and there are people who don’t. Obviously I fall into the ‘set off loudly’ category. A few years ago, I ended up having to ask our Mayor to intervene with a letter to the area Chief of Police because I was being stopped virtually every single time I left the house. It wasn’t all bad though: I once had a very enlightening conversation, pre-Brexit, with a sandwichless picnic type of police officer who took the time to explain, quite condescendingly I thought, that my GB driving licence was not valid in France because Britain was not in Europe and never had been. There’s not a lot you can say to that.

My perennial aura of culpability follows me everywhere, including security and  customs, both of which I seem incapable of negotiating without a full body search and scan and lengthy interrogation.  I was once detained for some time at the Eurostar terminal in Waterloo while they searched my luggage at length. Bizarrely, this included going through and watching a load of perfectly innocent films on videotape that I had brought with me from France. This was before mobile ‘phones and my mother, imagining that I’d missed my train, gave up and went home without me.

A few days ago, Gatwick airport gave me a chance to flex my wannabe hooligan muscles once again when my baggage and I were stopped no fewer than three times. Poor Léo, who had gone ahead without a single hitch, had to wait for me on The Other Side, and was forced to explain, rather long-sufferingly, that if he was still hanging around it was because he was waiting for his ‘anarchist mother’; they immediately took pity and even offered him a chair.

Ingredients (serves 4)

2 tablespoons olive oil

4 chicken thighs

2 spring onions, peeled and sliced

2 bulbs fennel, roughly chopped

2 chilli peppers, sliced

4 cloves garlic, unpeeled

1 handful sage leaves

1 large orange, peeled and cut into segments

sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

2 teaspoons fennel seeds

1 teaspoon curry powder (optional)

1 tablespoon honey

Pre-heat oven to 220C. Arrange all the ingredients in a baking tray, drizzling olive  oil over everything and seasoning with salt and pepper, fennel seeds, curry powder and honey. Cook for 40 minutes, squeeze the garlic from its skins and serve. Delicious with rice, fresh pasta or new potatoes.

Carrot cumin croquettes and a dog obedience video


Noisy has been teaching me to use acronyms because I’m having problems with my rather cumbersome paws on the small keyboard of my new ‘phone when I text and tweet. I found LMAO particularly appropriate when Bossy recently decided to make a ‘Dog Obedience’ video to put on YouTube. Who is she kidding? I worry about Bossy sometimes – it’s as if she lives in la la land. She took us for a walk and wanted to capture various ‘examples of canine obedience’ (you see what I mean?). Usually I just slope off and do my own thing when we go for a walk so as not to be irritated by incessant jabbering (Bossy’s) and hyperactive insanity (Java’s), but I decided to hang around a bit for this because I thought it might be amusing. I wasn’t disappointed. She had planned on filming Java’s perfect recall (I say this not without irony) just as Java picked up the scent of an UFFO (unidentified feathered flying object), so that was a non starter. When Java finally returned 20 minutes later, she resembled a panting, dribbling, filthy, sodden dishrag and, as such, was not at her most photogenic. This was a shame as her looks are her only asset. Undeterred, Bossy carried on filming while walking through the woods and Java went off to find a long, sturdy stick which she then rammed into the back of Bossy’s knees. The shock was enough to catapult Bossy through the air, camera in hand and still filming. I think she’s going to have to rethink the title of her video. I’m thinking ‘Delinquent Setters’ might be appropriate. LOL.

Ingredients (serves 4)

120g potatoes, peeled

60g carrots, peeled

2 tablespoons olive oil

1 clove garlic, crushed

2 teaspoons cumin seeds

Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

1 egg, beaten

chickpea flour (or plain flour) for coating

Olive oil for frying

Boil the potatoes and carrots together until cooked. Drain well, add the olive oil, crushed garlic, cumin seeds and salt and pepper and mash well. Stir in the egg and then make round ‘patties’ coated in flour. Fry on each side until crisp and golden brown. Makes a delicious accompaniment to any main course, or may be served with a poached egg and green salad.

Crab chickpea pancakes (gf) and giant flying toddlers

‘My son is a numpty’. That’s what I wrote on the ‘reason for absence’ ticket when Léo missed school on Monday morning to have both wrists strapped up. I prefer to avoid Emergency if at all possible now, and take broken bones to visit our GP; his eyebrows are less judgmental and upwardly mobile than the hospital receptionist’s, and he knows deep down that we’re not intrinsically stupid and that I’m not an irresponsible mother. We’re just all a bit challenged when it comes to remaining upright.

Léo has been recuperating from a very nasty bout of flu/chest infection and, when I dropped him off in town this weekend with friends, it was not without apprehension. I’m now wondering how he took my parting words, ‘be careful and don’t do anything silly’ to mean ‘make sure to propel yourself through the air stuntman-style using your bike as a springboard’. It’s really quite puzzling. His father and I are hardly in a position to criticise though: We have more broken bones between us than we could count on the fingers of our four hands. Just yesterday, Luc, who was painting on the roof, asked me to open one of the upstairs windows in case he lost his balance so that he could ‘throw himself in’. On reflection, perhaps all three of us should take the precaution of being strapped up. In straitjackets.

These savoury pancakes make a great starter or a delicious light supper served with green salad.

Ingredients (serves 4)

1 egg, beaten

150g chickpea flour

200ml water

2 shallots, chopped

1 small courgette, peeled and grated

Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

½ teaspoon bicarbonate of soda

½ teaspoon cumin seeds

1 teaspoon chilli powder (optional)

200g white crabmeat

Nigella seeds

Olive oil for frying

Mix the egg and flour together, gradually adding water until the consistency is smooth and similar to heavy cream. Add the shallots, courgette and seasoning, mixing well. Finally stir in the crabmeat. Heat some olive oil in a frying pan over a medium heat and spoon in enough batter to make a pancake of roughly 5cm diameter. Sprinkle with nigella seeds and fry until golden brown, roughly 2-3 minutes on each side.

Tandoori chicken breasts and a twisted ankle

The equine osteopath paid a visit to put Bijou’s ankle back into place the other day. He had dislocated it while gallivanting furiously around the field with Java; just how incompetent can a horse be? It’s a shame the osteopath couldn’t put his brain back into place too. At one point he and Java were so over-excited that he was bucking, pirouetting and galloping simultaneously. And I certainly don’t say this as a nod to his prowess.

In other news, Java has been passing the time chewing on hens’ heads. I’m not sure whether her intent is malicious or not, although I do know that I wouldn’t feel comfortable about having my head chewed on by Java. I will have to explain to her that, in civilised circles, you wait until the chicken is cooked before chewing on it. I do feel a little responsible though – I’m afraid she may have spotted me doing something similar when I was a dishy young whippersnapper (as opposed to the handsome and distinguished older man that I have become) and one of the hens and I were an item. Those were the days…

Hopefully this recipe will show Java why it’s worth waiting for the chicken to be cooked before eating it, although I’m not holding my breath.

Ingredients (serves 4)

4 chicken breasts, cut into strips

150g plain yoghurt

1 tablespoon olive oil

Juice of 1 lemon

2 shallots, peeled and chopped

2 cloves of garlic, crushed

1 teaspoon fresh ginger, grated

1 teaspoon ground cumin

1 teaspoon ground corinder

1 teaspoon chilli powder

1 teaspoon garam masala

Mix the ingredients together and marinate the chicken breasts for at least an hour, or overnight if possible. Preheat the oven to 220°C. Place the chicken on a lightly oiled baking tray and cook for about 15 minutes, depending on the size of the pieces. Delicious served with basmati rice or chickpea pancakes.

Orange, mint and almonds and unifying sunsets

orangesandmint

Hugo and Java are not natural allies. I’ve always dreamed of having dogs that cuddle up together in the same basket, but alas, it is not to be. The room that their baskets and the space necessary between them take up in order to prevent friction and growling is surprisingly large. Java would love to be Hugo’s best friend, but the feeling is not reciprocated. Not one bit. If she so much as deigns to lie on the same rug as him, she receives her marching orders accompanied by a dark, ominous look. I suspect matters aren’t helped by the fact that Hugo is rather envious of her speed; he used to easily outrun deer and rabbits in the forest, but age has slowed him down. Java can outrun anyone and anything, including her own sense, which is admittedly thin on the ground.

So imagine our surprise when we looked outside the other evening to see the two dogs lying side by side, bathed in the soft evening light. They were under a budding oak tree watching the magnificent sunset and it was as perfect a picture of tranquility, contemplation and friendship as I have ever seen. As soon as Hugo noticed us though, he got up, visibly horrified at having been caught. He made a show of vigorously shaking himself free of any residual girly sentimentality. Despite Hugo’s unchivalrous behaviour, and as fleeting as the moment had been, it made Java and me very happy…

Ingredients (serves 4)

4 large dessert oranges, peeled and sliced

2 teaspoons orange flower water (optional)

2 teaspoon honey

½ teaspoon freshly-grated ginger

½ teaspoon cinnamon

Handful of sliced almonds

8 fresh mint leaves

Arrange the orange slices in a shallow bowl. Add a little water, the orange flower water, honey, ginger and cinnamon to a small saucepan. Bring to a simmer over a low heat, stirring to dissolve the honey. Remove from the heat. Drizzle the syrup over the oranges, garnish with the almonds and mint and serve with a dollop of crème fraîche.

Roasted mackerel with white wine and mustard vinaigrette and pigs in the woods

mackerel

For some reason I was thinking about wild boar while out walking with the dogs yesterday evening. As you do. Boar have really proliferated in this area over the past few years and often make quite a nuisance of themselves; it’s obvious where they’ve been because they scratch at the ground, turning up sand, dirt and dead leaves. The sows are particularly aggressive in the spring when they have their young to protect. Although we’re seeing more and more traces, it’s still quite rare to actually see them. My thoughts and I were on a little path by the river where, in the nine years we’ve been here, I have never seen a soul (or a pig for that matter), when I heard the distinctive sound of rustling leaves coming from the bushes. My mind’s ear might even have heard an ‘oink’.

Despite all evidence pointing towards a killer drove of wild pigs, it actually turned out to be a cyclist looking for his mobile ‘phone that he’d dropped the day before. It’s just as well I don’t have a hunting rifle, because I might have shot him. Flooded with relief at having cheated ‘death by wild boar’, I momentarily forgot the correct French term, sanglier, and said: ‘Oh, I’m sorry! I thought you were a pig!’. In terms of animal insults, pig is definitely right up there, and it has absolutely none of the nobility of the term boar. Desperately trying to redeem myself I continued: ‘Don’t worry, now I see your fluorescent clothing , you look nothing like a pig’. As if he would have been a dead ringer for one minus cycling garb. Luckily my inner, and extremely repressed, sage intervened to say that now would be a good time to stop talking. Forever if at all possible.

It was not one of my finer moments. I must say though, he was exceedingly gracious for someone who had just been accosted by a total nutter in the woods. Especially as he must have been quite keen to escape. I never did find out if he found his ‘phone.

This recipe is adapted from a Gordon Ramsay recipe. It’s quick and simple to make and the result is moreish and very healthy. Mackerel is one of the richest fish sources of omega 3 which is beneficial for the heart, helps prevent diabetes, improves bone and joint health and improves memory and mental status.

Ingredients (serves 4)

2 cloves of garlic, peeled and crushed

2 teaspoons paprika

1 teaspoon sea salt

1 tablespoon olive oil

8 small mackerel, gutted

500g new potatoes, peeled

4  shallots, peeled and finely sliced

For the vinaigrette:

½ teaspoon curry powder

1 tablespoon white wine vinegar

1 teaspoon Dijon mustard

4 tablespoon olive oil

Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

Preheat the oven to 200°C. Add the garlic, paprika, sea salt and olive oil to and small bowl and mix to form a smooth paste. Rub the mackerel with the paste and set aside in a ceramic baking dish.

Boil the potatoes under tender, then drain. Return them to the pan with a bit of sea salt and olive oil and crush roughly with the back of a fork, adding and combining the chopped shallots.

Roast the mackerel for about 20 minutes. To make the vinaigrette, place all the ingredients in a bowl and beat well with a fork until velvety-smooth.

Serve the mackerel on the potatoes and topped with vinaigrette.

 

Peanut chicken stir fry and food glorious food!

peanutturkeystirfry

Memories are triggered by different senses:  Smell (olfactory memories), sound (echoic memories), sight (iconic memories) and touch (haptic memories). For me, without wishing to plagiarise Proust and his beloved madeleine, there seem little doubt that my memories are triggered by food (perhaps known as gluttonous memories).

By far the most vivid recollection of my first visit to the East Coast of the US when I was seven is not, delightful though they were, the Empire State Building, the Statue of Liberty or The Guggenheim, but a generous portion of sublimely tangy lemon meringue pie – the first I’d ever come across – in a drugstore in Manhattan for breakfast one morning. Clams on the beach in Westport, Connecticut come a close second.

My frequent visits to Scotland as a child were punctuated by fish so fresh it crumbled the second it glimpsed a fork. Crucially, it was always served with a side order of pure, bracing, iodised air. School food was obviously a low point in my gastronomic narrative; the less said the better, but I will just point out that I was properly traumatised by spam fritters at a very early age, and the words ‘Angel Delight’ still set off a Pavlovian gag reflex. I think the better you eat at home, the more potential for grievous bodily harm the food you eat – or try your hardest not to eat – at school presents. This was certainly true in my case.

The highlight of my trip to the Italian Riviera in the late 80s was not the picturesque, colourful and much revered Porto Fino, but a plate of the most exquisite home-made pasta stuffed with walnut paste and dripping with gorgonzola sauce served to me in a simple family-run restaurant in the backcountry. I could easily have eaten several helpings and it’s just as well I wasn’t given the chance, because that wouldn’t have made for one of my finer, more elegant moments…

My memories from the two years I spent in the US in the early 90s? Wilhelm’s dark chocolate and raspberry cheesecake and the 6cm thick chargrilled steaks at The Hyde Park Grill. Do I remember dancing at my wedding? No I’m not sure I do, although I suspect I didn’t as my husband was sporting several broken ribs and a fractured sternum, having being thrown off my engagement ring (a Lusitano stallion). There’s a sentence that’s probably never been written before. I do remember the guinea fowl in apricot sauce though, and believe me, I certainly wasn’t the sort of delicate, blushing bride who had lost her appetite to nerves. We honeymooned in Burgundy which is famous for its many Michelin starred restaurants.

Randomly, the most perfect, simple green salad with walnuts after a day on the ski slopes in the Pyrenees about five years ago left an indelible mark. Usually after skiing, you’d think that a rich and satisfying fondue or raclette would be called for. But no; I have never, before or since, experienced such a rush from eating what was essentially a plate of rabbit food.

rabbitseatinglettuce

I suspect Léo’s childhood food memories will feature carrots and broccoli quite heavily because they are just about the only vegetables that don’t motivate a lengthy speech on nausea-inducing unpalatability. I try to avoid serving him other vegetables unless I have my earplugs to hand.

Ingredients (serves 4)

2 tablespoons groundnut oil

1 red onion, peeled and sliced

2 cloves of garlic, peeled and crushed

2 carrots, peeled and sliced

4 mushroom, peeled and sliced

1 broccoli (I used romanesco), cut into florets

4 chicken breasts, cut into strips

3 tablespoons peanut butter

2 tablespoons soya sauce

1 tablespoon honey

100ml chicken stock

1 teaspoon fresh or ground ginger

1 teaspoon chilli powder (optional)

Sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper

Handful of crushed peanuts to garnish

Brown the onion and garlic in a wok, adding the other vegetables and chicken pieces gradually. Cook for a few minutes more before adding the peanut butter, soya sauce, honey, stock and seasoning. Stir fry over a medium heat until the chicken is cooked through and the carrots and broccoli are tender. Serve with noodles, rice or quinoa, garnishing with the crushed peanuts.

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