Homemade pasta with rocket, creme fraiche, basil and lemon

About once a month I get an obsessive impulse to clean out my food cupboard. It’s not the same as cleaning out your fridge; there’s no hygiene factor or risk of contamination, no mangy carrots or courgettes lurking at the back. It’s purely an exhibition of ‘anality’. I like it compartmentalised – tins and jars lower left, flours and sugars lower right, chocolate and treats upper left, etc, etc. Every time I embark on this fanatical cleaning venture, I always find a little something hidden away and forgotten about. Last time it was a bar of orange dark chocolate which I scoffed sitting on the kitchen counter, listening to the cricket on the radio. This time it was a bag of type ’00’ flour I had bought a couple of weeks ago with the intention of making pasta. So that’s what I did.

It’s been grey and rainy recently and I’ve been cooking a lot of hearty, ‘wintery’ meals designed to warm and soothe. The kinds of meals that are stuffed full of root vegetables, lentils and barley. Those dinners that sit on the hob long enough to steam up all the windows and make everyone unconsciously gravitate to the kitchen. Well, I’m sick of it. I wanted a taste of summer, something to trick myself into thinking of sun, sea and holidays, something fresh and relaxing. I wanted lemon and basil, basically.

I saw a vintage cookery show the other week. It was rubbish. Two old ladies cooking very old fashioned food in derelict houses in France. They did, however, make one thing that I liked the look of. They blended olive oil, double cream and wild rocket together to create a bright green sauce for pasta. I didn’t see any reason why lemon, basil and a bit of chilli wouldn’t work in there too…

Rocket and creme fraiche pasta with basil and lemon

400g type ’00’ pasta flour

4 large eggs

70g bag wild rocket, roughly chopped

300ml creme fraiche

Zest and juice of half a lemon

Good handful of basil leaves, roughly chopped

Pinch of dried chilli

1 onion, finely chopped

1 clove garlic, finely chopped

Salt and Pepper

Olive oil

I just made a very simple pasta dough. Put the flour in a large mixing bowl, make a well in the centre and add the eggs. Whisk with a fork, slowly going from the centre outward until fully combined. Once you have a sticky dough, flour your hands and knead until a bit firmer. Add more flour if it’s still too sticky. Turn out onto a floured surface and flatten it with your hands. Set your pasta machine on the lowest setting (1) and run the pasta through. Move up to 2 and run it through again. Keep running it through at these settings (1 then 2, 1 then 2…) until the dough becomes springy and elastic – about 5 or 6 times. At this point you can start moving up through the settings. I was making linguine so I stopped at setting ‘8’ because I didn’t want it too thin. I have a linguine and tagliatelle attachment for my pasta machine, so I ran it through the thinner of the two. Voila.

The sauce was easy. Put 3/4 of the rocket, the basil, creme fraiche, lemon zest and lemon juice in a food processor or blender. Turn on at a low setting and drizzle in some of the olive oil until the mixture loosens and then stop. Fry the onion and garlic in a pan until cooked and translucent. Add the chilli and then the sauce, check the seasoning and allow to heat through. Cook the pasta in boiling, salted water for 2 or 3 minutes and drain. Wilt the remaining rocket in the sauce and serve together with the pasta.

I served it with some roasted cherry tomatoes and a dusting of Parmesan, which went with it very well.


Fennel and leek soup

When I’m poorly I tend to fall back on childhood favourites in an attempt to make myself feel better, almost using memories as a placebo. I think everyone has their traditional sickness staples they can rely on to make themselves more comfortable; mine always included a bowl of Neapolitan ice cream, a bottle of Lucozade and a pile of Iron Man comics. And of course soup.

If I felt nauseous, my mum would make me drink a pint of milk. It took me many years to realise that it just made me almost instantly sick; a pretty old-school remedy with a slightly cruel edge but better out than in I suppose. It’s this harking back to my youth that makes me always crave soup when ill.

Cream of chicken soup to be exact. I’m certainly not the only one to go down this route. The Spartans pretty much only ate ‘black soup’ (pig’s legs, blood, salt and vinegar) and they were pretty healthy. Steinbeck mentions its healing reputation in East Of Eden. Even Gandhi’s son was prescribed chicken soup when diagnosed with pneumonia. Couldn’t eat it though – vegetarian.

Managing to crawl to the fridge (like a slug) I found a potato, a couple of leeks, some old dill and a bulb of fennel. Is that right? A bulb? Or is it a head? Anyway, a pretty good haul for some healthy, re-energising soup to clear the head and vitalise the soul. Or something.

Not much needed for this one. Let the ingredients do the talking.

Fennel and leek soup.

1 bulb/head fennel, sliced

2 medium leeks, sliced

2 cloves garlic, peeled and sliced

1 medium potato

A handful of dill, chopped

1 tsp oregano

1 litre vegetable stock

Ground black pepper

Melt a bit of butter in a pan and add the leek, garlic and fennel. Simmer until softened. Add the potato and oregano and mix well. Pour in the stock and then simmer for around 20 minutes until the potato is cooked through. Blend the mixture until smooth.

Quick aside here – at this point my blender broke. When I tried to detach the top, the bottom snapped off pouring soup all over the worktop. It was so frustrating I nearly cried.

Pour the mixture into a clean pan and bring back to temperature. Taste and season – I found that it didn’t need any salt – and stir in the dill. Serve with a dollop of yoghurt or a drizzle of cream and garnish with a bit of that fluffy stuff from the top of the fennel or a sprig of dill.


Beetroot burgers with chive tzatziki

Saturday mornings are a glorious thing. I was due to be working but that got cancelled so I got to have a wonderfully lazy day. Up at 9, tea and toast and an hour of Battlefield 3 before a hung over Laurel surfaced. Off to the market we went.

Last year some lovely, crafty and foodie folk decided to start a food market in Brockley. It has proved to be a massive success, selling amazing coffee, fresh fruit and veg, breads – well, you get the idea. My plan was to take a load of pictures, buy some beautiful vegetables and write a post about it. However, I forgot my camera so I will do a post about it next week. In the meantime I did get a large bag of great looking beetroot and some fresh herbs. I had been wanting to make a veggie burger for a while, so that’s how I spent my afternoon.

I found some great looking recipes online for burgers, ranging from beanie burgers to roast vegetable patties. I especially liked the look of this walnut beanie burger, and considered making these but ultimately decided to try something new using my market purchases. I’d never used beetroot in a burger before and just decided to try to combine it with things I thought complemented it.

Beetroot burgers with chive tzatziki

300g beetroot, grated

100g breadcrumbs (I used old rye bread. Went with the beetroot well.)

1 410g tin red kidney beans, slightly mashed with a fork

1 apple, cored and grated

50g pearl barley

6 small spring onions, chopped

A good handful of dill, roughly chopped

A handful of parsley, roughly chopped

1 large egg, beaten

A pinch of chilli flakes

Salt and pepper

For the tzatziki;

1 cucumber, quartered and deseeded

Zest of 1 lemon

1 clove of garlic, mashed

A big handful of chives, finely chopped

Salt and pepper

2 or 3 tablespoons of natural yoghurt

Couldn’t be simpler this. Cook the pearl barley as per packet instructions and set aside. Meanwhile, combine the rest of the burger ingredients in a big bowl and mix well.

At this point I tried frying a small burger to see what it was like. It was good but was more like a little beetroot rosti than a burger, so I blended half of the mixture and mixed it back in. This improved the texture somewhat. Up to you though.

Mix in the pearl barley (just for texture) and put the burger mix in the fridge for half an hour or so. Grate the cucumber and wrap in a clean tea towel. Squeeze out as much of the moisture as you can and then put in a bowl. Add the chives and lemon zest and mix well. Add the yoghurt 1 tablespoon at a time, mixing all the while, until you have the consistency you desire. Taste and season – it can take salt well! Fry the burger in a little oil over a medium heat until nicely coloured on each side.

I served the burger in a fresh roll with a dollop of tzatziki, a couple of slices of feta and some watercress. I think a bit of fresh horseradish might have been good in it but I didn’t have any. Eat it in front of the telly with a pile of fries on the side.


Marinated tofu with satay sauce

My brother bought me a sack of Monkey Nuts for Christmas. They were a confusing addition to a very nice hamper and I didn’t really know what to do with them. The rest of the gifts are much simpler to use –  the cheese, crackers and chutney will make a nice snack, the olives and jalapenos will top a pizza and the Christmas cake can have its disgusting icing thrown away and the lovely fruitcake eaten with coffee.

Monkey nuts though? I forgot they even existed. I thought they were awesome when I was 8 until I’d spent twenty minutes ripping 3 or 4 of them apart. The reward for all your hard work was pathetically unsatisfying and you ended up with that weird flaky skin stuff stuck to the roof of your mouth. And it’s messy. Don’t they come unshelled in bags now?

I don’t mean to sound ungrateful – the hamper was great and will all get used lovingly in various recipes (Zenf? Nice one!). It also turns out they were perfect for a recipe I wanted to try. It took me about an hour to peel them though…

I reckon you can use normal salted peanuts. Maybe lose the soy sauce in the satay though?

Marinated tofu with satay sauce.

For the tofu;

400g firm tofu, cubed

1 red chilli, deseeded and roughly chopped

1 stalk lemongrass, roughly chopped

2 tbsp toasted sesame oil

2 tbsp soy sauce

Pinch of coriander leaves

For the peanut sauce;

150g peanuts, toasted

1 stalk lemongrass, roughly chopped

1 red chilli, deseeded and chopped

2 cloves garlic, chopped

1 thumb-size piece ginger, peeled and chopped

2 shallots, roughly chopped

Juice of 1 lime

1 tbsp soy sauce

1 400ml tin of coconut milk

For the tofu marinade put the chilli, lemongrass, coriander, oil and soy sauce in a food processor and blitz. Put the tofu in a dish and pour over the mixture. Cover and put in the fridge for an hour or so.

Put the peanuts in the food processor and blitz, leaving a bit of texture. Remove and then put in all the rest of the ingredients, apart from the coconut milk. Blend into a rough paste. Heat some oil in a saucepan and add the paste. Cook until it’s fragrant – the smells completely dominate your kitchen! Add the peanuts and the coconut milk, stir and simmer until it thickens.

Meanwhile, fry the tofu pieces in a very hot, non-stick frying pan until nicely coloured on all sides. Pour the sauce over the tofu. I served it with toasted garlic noodles, sliced spring onion and some alfalfa I got reduced at Sainsbury’s.