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Easy chicken and chickpea curry and a potpourri of ailments
Chicken and chickpea curry Our new year got off to a shaky start, with an upsetting potpourri of human, canine and equine ailments. Luc had an eye operation in December, and is using eyedrops four times a day, and ear drops twice a day for an ear infection. Java managed to head butt a prickly bush, at high speed, and is also on eye drops four times a day as a result. I have vertigo — probably from trying to figure out the deluge of prescription drugs spread across my kitchen table — which means I keep walking into door frames, causing further assorted minor injuries.
And Jojo, my horse, is on cortisone injections and cough syrup twice a day to treat an asthma attack, brought on by an over-enthusiastic pilferage of dusty hay. His medication is certainly the most complicated, and a two-man job. For example, the injection must be administered with a steady flow of apples, or all hell breaks loose. Last night we tried to give him his cough syrup in the field, without a head collar, as he doesn’t resist, and even seems to enjoy it. Big mistake; we won’t try that again! He swung around, haughtily lifting his head out of reach, and I’m sure I heard him say: ‘Yo! Protocol chaps! You’re getting sloppy!’
Dusty hay pilferers Ghee, which is clarified butter, not only adds a subtle, nutty flavour to dishes, it’s also a very healthy option. It is easy to digest and can reduce gut inflammation as it contains butyric acid. It is also rich in linoleic acid, which reduces blood pressure and blood sugar levels. Ghee is also rich in vitamin A, important for immunity and eye (see above!) and skin health, and omega 3 which fights inflammation.
Recipe for easy chicken and chickpea curry (serves 4)
- 1 tablespoon of ghee (olive oil or butter could be substituted)
- 1 onion, sliced
- 2 cloves of garlic, crushed
- Thumb size piece of fresh ginger, grated
- 750g chicken breast filets, sliced
- 2 potatoes, peeled and roughly sliced
- 2 carrots, peeled and cut into rounds
- 300g cooked chickpeas
- 600ml chicken stock
- Sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper
- 1-2 teaspoons mild curry powder (to taste)
- 4 tablespoons natural yoghurt
- Handful of coriander leaves, rinsed and chopped
Preheat the oven to 180°C. Heat the ghee in a casserole dish over a medium heat, add the onion and fry until golden brown and sticky. Add the garlic and ginger and cook for another minute. Add the chicken to the dish and gently brown on both sides, add the potatoes, carrots and chickpeas and pour the stock over everything. Season and transfer to the oven for about 40 minutes, then remove and stir in the yoghurt and add the coriander leaves. Delicious served with chickpea pancakes, or basmati rice.
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Cauliflower in turmeric chickpea batter, and flights of fancy
Cauliflower in turmeric chickpea About seven years ago, Léo found an abandoned baby turtle dove under an oak tree. I have fond memories of him/her sharing our mealtimes, sitting and pecking in a cardboard nesting box on the kitchen or terrace table. Léo fed him different grains, but he had a particular penchant for couscous. The baby dove grew big and strong (all the couscous), and upped and left us in September to migrate with his family for the winter.
My passion for turtle doves
Turtle doves come back to their birthplace, and every Spring I imagine I see our grown-up baby, especially when one approaches the house. Today I’m pretty sure my wishful inkling is spot-on; this lunchtime, while we were enjoying lamb tagine on the terrace, a very self-assured adult dove perched himself at the end of the table and looked pointedly at my plate. It was a look that definitely said: ‘and where is my couscous?’
Turtle doves The Bells, Edgar Allan Poe Turmeric or ‘Indian Solid Gold’, has been used in Ayurvedic medicine for over 4,000 years for its wound-healing and anti-inflammatory properties. It is prevalent in Indian cuisine and is believed to be one of the reasons that cancer rates in India are significantly lower than in Western countries.
Turmeric is poorly absorbed by the body, but research show that cooking it in liquid, with added fat and black pepper facilitates absorption.
Recipe for cauliflower in turmeric chickpea batter (serves 3-4)
- 150g chickpea (gram) flour
- 1 pinch of salt, freshly ground black pepper
- 1/2 teaspoon turmeric powder (or better, crushed fresh turmeric root)
- 1/2 teaspoon cumin seeds
- 1 clove of garlic, crushed
- 1/2 teaspoon bicarbonate of soda
- 150ml lukewarm water
- 4 medium-sized cauliflower florets
- Olive oil
Sift the flour, seasoning and bicarbonate of soda into a mixing bowl, and add the water, mixing well to form a batter. Leave to rest for about 30 minutes. If the mixture thickens too much, add more water.
Rince the cauliflower and slice into pieces roughly 4mm thick. Coat well with the batter and fry in olive oil until golden.
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Coconut fish curry and a very analytical horse
For the first time since my accident in 2015 (The Ditch Incident), I have started riding regularly again. I have had to revise my methods and objectives (no more breaking in mad, young horses), and also be very fussy about the horses I ride. Which means that for the moment I ride Jojo, my handsome 21-year-old Lusitano. More crucially, I have completely revised my ‘riding state of mind’; I used to get on a horse to try to sort out my brain chaos and I realise with hindsight that this was disrespectful to the horse and absolutely not inducive to a calm, happy horse and ride. I now never get into the saddle without a relaxed, focussed mind, which usually involves doing yoga first.
Jojo was ‘entire’ (had a full set) until the age of five, which is relatively late for castration. It usually means that, even afterwards, the horse retains his male characteristics, which wouldn’t be the case if castration were to take place at a younger age. Without going into the details of the effects of testosterone of the male psyche (!), I will just say that Jojo is dominant – a very typical alpha male. Every September we have an invasion of horribly aggressive horse flies that attack humans and horses alike, leaving painfully swollen, itchy welts. Jojo isn’t terrified of much (if a herd of deer jump out of the bushes in front of him, he is unfazed and just stops to let them go by), but he does have a fear of insect repellants, particularly spray bottles. I used to just wing it and chase him around the field spraying everywhere like a crazy person, hoping that at least some of the product would land on him. Realising that this approach didn’t gel with my new-found equestrian zenitude, I decided to read the side of the bottle to him in dulcet tones, explaining in detail what the product did and also the list of ingredients. When I was done, he lowered his head — a sign of compliance — and stood motionless while I sprayed him all over. I think he had basically said: ‘Fair enough, you had the time and patience to respectfully explain to me what you were going to do and why, so go ahead and do whatever you have to do with your incredibly annoying bottle’.
I never fail to marvel at the lessons we can learn from our horses.
This curry has become a bit of a regular in our house. Despite the relatively long list of ingredients (which luckily I don’t have to read out to everybody to get them to eat), it’s quick and easy to make, and always goes down a treat!
Ingredients (serves 4)
1 tablespoon coconut oil
1 onion, peeled and sliced
1 shallot, peeled and sliced
1 teaspoon fresh ginger, grated
2 jalapeño peppers, sliced, seeds removed
2 cloves of garlic, crushed
2 potatoes, peeled and cut into cubes
2 tomatoes, peeled and chopped
1 red pepper, diced
4 carrots, peeled and sliced
1 litre of vegetable stock
Freshly ground black pepper
Sea salt
2 teaspoons curry powder
2 kaffir lime leaves
1 stick lemongrass
200ml coconut milk
400g white fish (I used frozen cod)
Cilantro to garnish
Heat the coconut oil in a large saucepan or wok. Add the onion and shallot and fry for a few minutes. Add the ginger, jalapeño and garlic and continue to fry. Once soft, add the potatoes, tomatoes, red pepper and carrots and then cover with stock. Add the seasoning and spices and simmer for about 20 minutes. Add the coconut milk and then the fish and simmer for a further 10 minutes or until the fish is cooked and crumbly. Garnish with cilantro and serve as a standalone or with noodles or rice.
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BBQ ribs and life in a haze
I was on the loose in town today sans glasses. I realised they weren’t on my nose as we were leaving, but Léo was driving so I didn’t think it would be too much of a problem. Also we were running late, and the whole ‘when and where did I last see them etc.’ thing would have been too boring and time-consuming. It would obviously be easier to wear them all the time, but as I’m short-sighted, shallow, vain and in denial, it’s never going to happen. Anyway, Léo is a 16-year-old know-all learner driver boy racer, so out-of-focus is definitely the way to go. Far less white-knuckle stress.
While Léo was having his French horn lesson, I went shopping. All things considered, I didn’t do too badly. I bought baby peppers instead of tomatoes, but you know, who cares? And I had to ask the owner of the shop to tap in my credit card code but again, no big deal. I waved like a maniac across the shop at someone who didn’t know me from Adam, but she was very nice about it and we chatted for a bit. In hindsight I realise she maybe just felt sorry for me, but is hindsight always a good guide? Going in to the post office I misjudged the doorstep, which resulted in an expedient and slightly melodramatic head first entrance. I then ‘Madamed’ a Monsieur, although he didn’t seem too put out – he was obviously quite woke; it’s so last century to fixate on gender.
I went back to the car to wait for my chauffeur (I got into the right car after just one small blunder), and passed the time contemplating my seemingly smooth, almost Photoshopped, wrinkle-free forehead (I’m making myself sound like a simpleton/lunatic now). I concluded that forgetting your glasses is cheaper and more effective than botox, probably less painful too, although that might be open to debate, as my doorstubbed toe will attest. It can be quite comforting to not see things too clearly all the time – I’m not sure that an obsession for detail is necessarily healthy. Think big picture. All in all, blurred worked pretty well for me today.
These ribs are a bit time-consuming, but so worth it. I had given up making ribs because they didn’t seem to be available to buy. We have now found a great butcher who has them all the time. They’re really not particularly healthy, but in a way they are because they’re so delicious they make you happy. And anyway, moderation is the key.
Ingredients (serves 4)
For 4 racks of pork ribs (approx. 400g each)
For the marinade:
1 teaspoon cumin seeds
1 teaspoon paprika
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 orange, juiced
1 tablespoon brown sugar
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
2 cloves of garlic, peeled and crushed
Combine the ingredients to form a runny paste in a food processor.
For the BBQ sauce:
1 onion, peeled
2 cloves of garlic, peeled
1 chilli, seeds removed
1 teaspoon fresh thyme
1 tablespoon fresh coriander
1 teaspoon chilli powder
50g brown sugar
2 tablespoons apple cider vinegar
50ml tomato ketchup
Dash of Worcestershire sauce
1 teaspoon mustard
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
Combine the ingredients to form a paste in a food processor.
Rub the marinade over the rib racks and leave in the fridge overnight. Preheat the oven to 125°C, place the ribs on a baking try and cook for 1½ hours. Remove from the oven and wrap the ribs in tin foil and cover with the sauce. Return to the oven for another hour. Open the tin foil wrapping and increase the oven temperature to 200°C for a further half hour.
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Beef Rendang and pernickety males
I inadvertently surround myself by fussy men. My father was very tricky to buy presents for, and I always ended up buying him books which was an interesting challenge. Well-written, knowledgeable, lively, original and slightly wry biographies about Winston Churchill or Napoleon were usually a good bet, and most things by Philip Roth or Ian McEwan usually passed muster. Books that tried to be too witty or too clever would be cast aside in disgust, as were novels by PD James who never ‘got to the bloody point’ quickly enough. It was with great sadness that I recently saw there was a new Churchill biography out because I’ll never know what he thought of it.
Luc and Léo are inordinately difficult to shop for because they’re both strangely obsessed with the weight of all shoes and clothing. Léo also has an aversion to pink, yellow and anything patterned. And not only must everything be feather-light, any zips or buttons must be ultra rapid to avoid, god forbid, slowing him down. Luc is a big fan of parachute silk and doesn’t care if his clothes make him look like gay Hawaiian televangelist, as long as they’re diaphanous. Mon dieu!
But it is Hugo that takes the biscuit (unless they’re dog biscuits which he spits out). His bedding is a source of sleepless nights for everybody. We are currently testing bed number four as the first three were not to his liking, which he made very clear. I do understand because I’ve had unpleasant experiences at times with uncomfortable bedding, but I don’t show my exasperation by growling and huffing and puffing all night.
Little Java is a breath of fresh air. Although I suspect she must have a preference for cashmere cushions (who wouldn’t?), she sleeps anywhere and on anything. She also eats absolutely everything (including dressed salad, mustard and melon, which, as dog owners will know, is incredibly random). There is literally nothing that makes her unhappy. Except gunfire; gunfire unhinges her, which is ironic as she was born and bred to be a gundog…
Ingredients (serves 4)
1 onion, peeled and chopped
5 shallots, peeled and chopped
4 cloves garlic
1 stalk lemongrass, chopped
1 teaspoon turmeric (or fresh turmeric, grated)
4 fresh chillis, washed and chopped
1 teaspoon fresh ginger, grated
600g braising steak, cubed
2 tablespoons coconut oil
1 cinnamon stick
6 cardamon pods
4 kaffir lime leaves
500ml coconut milk
1 lime, juiced
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
Place the onion, shallots, garlic, lemongrass, turmeric and chills into a food processor and blend to obtain a smooth paste. Add the meat to the paste, mixing well and leave to marinate in the fridge for at least a few hours. Heat the coconut oil in a casserole dish and fry the meat/paste mixture for a few minutes until well browned. Add the cinnamon stick, the cardamon (releasing the seeds from the pods beforehand) and the kaffir leaves. Add the coconut milk, lime juice and seasoning and bring to a gentle simmer. Cook for about an hour and a half, stirring frequently. The meat should be tender and the sauce reduced and rich. -
Stir-fry scallops and decorating hens
Java has a boyfriend. In fact, she has two. One lives about a kilometre away to the east, and the other a kilometre to the west. At the moment they have different visiting times but, as one of them in particular is making himself more and more at home ‘chez Java’, it’s inevitable that one day they’ll turn up at the same time and I’m afraid it won’t be pretty. Especially if drama llama Java has anything to do with it. Meanwhile, Hugo is delighted because it gets her off his back for a bit; when either of them turns up, he shrugs a gallic canine shrug, sighs with relief and leaves them to it. There are only two prerequisites to be Java’s dogfriend: speed and stamina (although Hugo would no doubt say stupidity was another one). ‘Dates’ consist of running around the house at break-neck speed for hours on end, stopping only occasionally either to change direction or to slurp noisily from the pool. If they tire before she’s had enough, she barks at them manically. A catch she is not – just ask Hugo.
Niko, Java’s handsome admirer from the East
In other news, I noticed the other day that a couple of the hens had blobs of Farrow and Ball’s ‘Folly Green’ paint on their wings. Thinking that they’d just been hanging out too long in the workshop, I rinsed them down and forgot about it until Luc started to rant that the hens’ ‘tattoos’ had faded. Apparently he’d been colour-coding them according to how many eggs they lay. No doubt this information was to make its way onto a complicated spreadsheet to determine whether they’re paying for their keep, and if not, whether their next port of call should be a Le Creuset casserole dish. As he knows that I refuse to cook any beast that I’ve fed and built up a relationship with, it seems rather futile, but whatever floats his boat. And spreadsheets seem to.
These scallops seemed to float everyone’s boat when I last made them. I served them with rice, but they would be delicious with noodles too.
Ingredients (serves 4)
4 tablespoons sesame oil
10 mushrooms, peeled and sliced
1 red onion, peeled and sliced
2 small carrots, peeled and sliced
75g greens peas
1 red pepper, sliced
500g scallops
2 cloves garlic, crushed
2 teaspoons fresh ginger, grated
1 teaspoon chilli powder
4 tablespoons soya sauce
Heat the sesame soil in a large frying pan or wok, add the mushrooms, onion, carrots, peaks and pepper and stir fry until tender. Add the scallops, garlic, ginger and chilli powder and stir fry for about two minutes or until the scallops become opaque. Add the soya sauce heating for a further minute and serve. I served with a combination of wild rice/thai rice.
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Spicy chicken and coral lentil soup and dog ASBOs
Every time I go to London I’m reminded of just how unruly our dogs are. Dogs in London parks amble around acknowledging each other politely, sometimes stopping for a chat or a bit of a play, then rejoining their owners as soon as they’re called. Our dogs? Not so much; if canine ASBOs were a thing, we would have an impressive collection. Hugo, in his labrador way, does have a certain amount of innate savour faire, but it doesn’t stop him and his 30 kilos from climbing onto unsuspecting visitor’s laps or availing himself of the driving seat of their cars. He also has a tendency to break into neighbour’s kitchens to relieve them of their baguettes.
Last time I visited the vet with Hugo, we were asked to leave by the back door because his arrival by the front door (the Door for Civilised Dogs) had created pandemonium (try to picture cats and small dogs splattered all over the walls). The following week when I visited with Java, I was allowed to leave by the Door for Civilised Dogs, which was a big mistake because she launched herself at a pony-sized Pyrenean sheep dog like a tiny heat-seeking missile. Luckily for her, enormous dogs tend to have impeccable manners and gentle dispositions and he shook her off like a rather annoying fly. With great shame I picked her up, seat-belted her into the back of the car and ignored her all the way home.
The dogs have outdone themselves this week though: Hugo got stuck in the car for nearly four hours and we only realised where he was when we heard the car horn tooting persistently. Java, not to be outdone, got herself stuck in the railings of the staircase. Between her wriggling, our giggling, and not knowing whether to push or pull, getting her out was quite a feat. In hindsight, we should have left her there because on our walk afterwards we met five seriously well-trained and hard-working English Setters with a hunter. (At least they were well-trained until Java intervened – I think she must have revealed a chink in their training armour.) She ran into the midst of the pack, her body quivering with high-spirited enthusiasm, despite her presumably bruised ribs from the staircase debacle, hysterically barking ‘PARTY TIME’ and after that there were six setter reprobates running around like maniacs. I’m off to lie down.
Ingredients (serves 6)
4 chicken thighs, skin removed
1 tablespoon olive oil
Dried rosemary
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper1 tablespoon coconut oil
1 onion
1 celery stick, chopped
1 leek, chopped
2 carrots, peeled and sliced
2 cloves of garlic, crushed2 teaspoons cumin seeds
1 teaspoon curry powder
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 bay leaves
3 litres chicken stock
250g coral lentils
Preheat the oven to 180°C. Put the chicken thighs into a roasting tin coated in olive oil, dried rosemary and seasoning and roast for about 30 minutes, or until cooked through. Once cooked, cut or rip into pieces, removing from the bone and set aside. Melt the coconut oil in a large saucepan over a medium heat. Add the onion, celery, leek, carrots and garlic and fry until golden. Then add the seasoning and stock and bring to a simmer. Add the coral lentils and simmer for about 20 minutes (don’t cook the lentils too much or they’ll go mushy). Add the chicken pieces, warm through and serve. -
Chinese-style pork patties and recalcitrant photographic models
After the fiasco that was Bossy’s attempt to film her dogs’ ‘obedience’ (it still makes me chuckle just thinking about it), she has been trying to capture us next to flowers, which naturally fills me with an overwhelming and unfettered joy. Not. I’m concerned that the very hot weather we’ve been having has fried her brain: I mean seriously, do I look like a dog that enjoys the company of pale pink girly flowers? At least it’s quite entertaining when she lies down on the grass on her tummy to get a better angle, especially when she struggles to get up. What’s the point in a good angle if the subject has got bored with the tediousness of sitting still and wandered off? This photo is apparently a testament to my compliance, although it feels more like a punishment to me. At least nobody could mistake me for a dog happy to be caught next to a flower. She tried to photograph Java a number of times, but all she got was a dirty white blur. And Bossy considered the ‘flattened to the floor in a stranglehold’ look to be unflattering because it made her eyes boggle (Java’s, not Bossy’s). I really hope she loses the camera enthusiasm soon; in the meantime she’s the gift that just keeps on giving…
Ingredients (serves 4)
100g tinned whole water chestnuts, drained and finely chopped
500g lean pork mince
5 spring onions, finely chopped
1 clove of garlic, crushed
1 teaspoon grated root ginger
1 red chilli, finely chopped
1 teaspoon Chinese spice
1 tablespoon soya sauce
1 tablespoon cane sugar
salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 egg, beaten
3 tsp olive oil or peanut oil
Combine all the ingredients together well in a large bowl and form about 16 patties. Heat the oil in a large non-stick frying pan and fry for about four minutes on either side until cooked through and slightly caramelised. Delicious served hot or cold with fried rice, noodles or crispy Chinese cabbage salad. -
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. -
Peanut chicken stir fry and food glorious food!
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.
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.