Category Archives: Gluten-free

Salt cod brandade and ask a silly question…

I’m so glad Bossy doesn’t have my mobile ‘phone number; it’s the only way I’ve found to avoid being the irritated recipient of one of her inane texts. Earlier this week she was fretting about whether Noisy had caught the right bus home. Admittedly his grasp of logistics and time management are, at best, very shaky. But, despite spending much of his time with his head in the clouds, he is still a 15-year-old with an above-average IQ who can usually remember where he lives. Last school year, he was lucky enough to find a very efficient PA who took up the organisational slack and kept him on track. This year, he and the friend are no longer in the same class, hence Bossy’s fretting.

Anyway, Bossy’s irrational folly got the better of her and she sent a short text to check he was travelling in the right direction. As the bus doesn’t stop, I really didn’t understand the point; either he was going in the right direction, in which case the text was an annoying waste of time, or he wasn’t in which case it was too late anyway. So I can only commend his reply:  ‘No. Peruvian mutant turtles, having made a lucky escape from a Congolese fruit salad, recruited me for the Norwegian-Chinese mafia. I am currently in a underwater aeroplane with subatomic engines, carrying out biochemical experiments on hamster volunteers. Don’t worry: the Montparnasse tower is not in any immediate danger, and I should manage to finish digging the Dax-Rion tunnel with my Christmas tree. I will be in touch again once I’m within 15 lightyears of your town of residence.’

Obviously his reply begs the question: ‘what does she sprinkle on his breakfast cereal?’, but still: Kudos. Maybe she’ll think twice before sending silly texts again, although somehow I doubt it…

Ingredients (serves 4)

200g salt cod

2 bay leaves

1 onion, peeled and sliced

500ml milk

250g potatoes, peeled and boiled

2 cloves garlic

Freshly ground black pepper

1 teaspoon paprika

4 tablespoons olive oil

Freshly grated parmesan for topping

Soak the salt cod in cold water for 24 hours, changing the water once or twice. Drain and place in a pan with the bay leaves, onion and 500ml of milk. Bring to the boil, lower the heat and simmer for five minutes and then drain, removing any bones and skin and breaking the flesh into coarse shreds. Reserve some of the milk for the purée. Cook the potatoes until soft then drain and purée together with the cod, garlic and seasoning in a food processor, adding the olive oil to create a soft consistency (you may need to add a little of the reserved milk to achieve the desired consistency). Place the purée in an oven-proof dish and sprinkle with parmesan. Put in an oven preheated to 180°C for about 20 minutes until golden brown.

This is sometimes served as a dip with toast. I like it as a standalone dish with a crispy green salad. Hugo likes to lick the bowl, although he pretends otherwise.

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Banana and coconut cheesecake and Mr President makes a sound choice



I read in the paper that President Macron and his wife had adopted a black labrador. His name is Nemo, he’s two years old and almost as handsome as me. Obviously I suspect he has neither my gravitas nor superior intellect, but he looks like a reasonable chap nonetheless. I sent an email to Emmanuel (we’re on first name terms; he calls me Hugo) saying that I would be happy to offer my services if he felt Nemo needed coaching in the sort of behaviour expected of the First Dog. I haven’t heard back yet – I expect he’s quite busy with other matters, although he usually replies to my emails as a matter of priority. Obviously Emmanuel offered me the job of Top Dog, but I had to turn it down due to my loyalty and sense of duty to Bossy. I think he was particularly keen on me for the position because, aside from the obvious reasons, I’m bilingual and well-versed in the international scene. The problem is I know that pandemonium would break out if I were to leave here. I tried to explain to Java why the President had chosen a black labrador and not an English Setter. This entailed a lengthy explanation as there are so many reasons I didn’t know where to start: severe insubordination, acute inconsequentiality, fear of loud noises, general neurosis and goofiness, loud snoring, inherent psychological instability… She was all huffy and put out for about three minutes until something far more interesting came along to distract her: a falling leaf. I rest my case.

Bossy made this cheesecake. Whatever.

Ingredients (serves 8)

150g raisins, pre-soaked in rum

250g ricotta

250g marscapone

3 eggs, beaten

1 ripe banana, mashed

Zest of one lemon

2 tablespoons’ crème fraîche

3 tablespoons’ desiccated coconut

3 tablespoons’ cane sugar

1 teaspoon vanilla essence

Preheat the oven to 180°C. Mix all of the ingredients together and pour into a greased, medium-sized baking tin. Cook for 50 minutes and chill and sprinkle with coconut before serving.

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.

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