Episodic memories are those that form feeling toward a particular time or place. Personally I find these memories awaken when the seasons begin to shift from spring to summer, and a plethora of imagery comes bounding into view, leading to a babble of memories of idyllic nostalgia; the smell of Nivea suncream, the sound of the sea lapping methodically on the shore, slithers of blinding sunlight creeping through thick pine in the Troodos mountains - you get the picture. Ultimately these lucid dreams of summer result in me spending hours Google searching 'best beach holidays in Europe 20-whatever it is' and vowing to steer clear of ice cream in preparation for the big reveal come beach day. 

And so is life, 6 weeks prior to my departure for 10 days of unadulterated bliss, sea, sun, mountains, food and family I begin this torturous countdown that involves many a salad, and not so many an ice cream. My better self tells me it will be worth it, my lazy, sugar-loving self hisses at the former with pure hatred. 

I proceed with varying levels of sadness, denial and hesitation, but occasionally I find moments of victory is salads like this. Largely raw, eye pleasingly colourful and packed with protein, fiber, zinc, vitamins A & C, antioxidants and more wonderfully restorative and essential nutrients, this was quickly added to my arsenal of 'eat clean' recipes.

Using Madras curry powder in the dressing adds a unique smoky undertone, while the lemon juice keeps it fresh and zingy. If I wasn't avoiding dairy I'd have added a dollop of plain Greek-style yoghurt, or a few crumbly bites of feta. Oh, to dream (about everything I will inhale once I'm actually on holiday). 

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Curried Carrot + Chickpea Salad

Serves 4, or 2 as a main

Ingredients

1 large carrot

240g cooked chickpeas

10 small asparagus spears

Handful of radishes, around 5 or 6, thinly sliced

2 tablespoons capers

30ml olive oil

1 teaspoon Madras curry powder

1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon

Juice of half a lemon

Mixed salad greens - I used a mix of fennel tops and sweet leaves

Method

1. Using a julienne peeler, slice the carrot into thin strips. If you don't have one of those peelers you can use a mandoline to slice the carrot into ribbons, and then cut the strips by hand. You can also use the mandoline to slice the radishes. 
2. Remove the spears from the asparagus stalks and set aside. Use a vegetable peeler to create shavings from the stalks. 
3. Place the chickpeas, carrots, asparagus shavings and radishes in a bowl and set aside whilst you make the dressing. 
4. Combine the olive oil, curry powder, cinnamon, lemon juice and a good amount of seasoning, whisking well to combine. Pour the dressing over the vegetables and toss well until evenly distributed. 
5. Blanche the asparagus tips in boiling water - submerge them for a couple of minutes before rinsing under cold water.
6. Serve the dressed salad on a bed of leafy greens and scatter over the capers and asparagus tips before adding a final drizzle of olive oil. 

Everyone has that one recipe that they go back to time and time again, and for me it's pesto. Perhaps it's the ease in throwing it together, or the fact that its traditional use is with my favourite carb, but there is something about its herby, garlicky notes that keep it firmly on my go-to recipe list. 

What I love about pesto is its versatility. Every green herb or leaf that I throw at it seems to work in its own right, with unfamiliar flavour profiles lending themselves to different parts of the palate, adding an element of discovery each time I try a new combination. This particular pesto is made using chives as well as basil, resulting in luxuriously garlicky undertones while keeping it classic. Use it on pasta like I've done here, or dot it onto ricotta on toast - it is all good.  

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CHIVE + BASIL PESTO

Makes 200g 

Ingredients

30g fresh chives

20g fresh basil leaves, stalks discarded

3 tablespoons pine nuts

1 garlic clove, minced

6 tablespoons mild/light olive oil

30g parmigiano reggiano, finely grated

Method

1. In a food processor, add the herbs, pine nuts, garlic, olive oil and a good pinch of salt and pepper and blend.

2. Scrape the pesto mixture into a bowl and by hand stir in the grated parmesan. Add an extra glug of olive oil for good measure.  

3. Cook your pasta of choice until al dente (allow 150g per person), reserving a little of the cooking water before draining. Add 1 heaped tablespoon of pesto per person, along with a splash of the reserved water.

4. Serve immediately. 

It started out of sheer laziness, adding raw vegetables to salads instead of bothering to cook them. With a single swipe along my mandolin I had slithers of cauliflower, fennel or broccoli that would have otherwise been cooked first had this new option not been so convenient. With the right kind of dressing I found that I could make a sort of vegetable ceviche, the edge taken off that typically unappetising ‘rawness’, the flavour mellowing through marinating in my lunch box on my desk at work.

I’ve been testing various slaw recipes periodically, sometimes opting for an Asian combination of flavours, other times a luxuriously creamy American style, but this really is the recipe that I keep coming back to. The dressing here unlike in other slaw recipes is certainly not the show-stealer, but its subtle nutty flavour thanks to tahini is a welcome note on the palate. Throw this together quickly and leave for a while for the flavours to really gel. I eat this for lunch on its own, or with half an avocado for good measure. Adding a slice of rye bread into the equation is always a welcome addition, too.

If you’ve been reading my posts for a while you would have heard me discuss a new found love of plant-based eating, and although I cannot confirm that I have been exercising this new diet religiously and without steak/eggs, I can confirm that for the most part I am still enjoying creating dairy-free/meat-free dishes – on occasion. This slaw just so happens to work extremely well with either a dairy alternative to yoghurt, or the real deal. So, do with it what you will.

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VEGAN FENNEL, RADISH + BROCCOLI SLAW

Serves 4

Ingredients

1 medium head of broccoli

1 large fennel

6-8 radishes

100g cavolo nero, stalks removed and leaves shredded

8 stalks of fresh dill

For the dressing:

60ml olive oil

30ml tahini paste

50ml soya, coconut or regular yoghurt

2tsp rice mirin or vinegar

Juice of 1 lemon

Method

1. Using a mandolin if you have one will make putting this salad together a total breeze. If you don’t have one, then try and slice the fennel and radishes as finely as possible.
2. Slice the fennel, radishes and broccoli using a mandolin and place in a large bowl. Add the shredded cavolo nero and tear in the fresh dill leaves.
3. For the dressing add all of the ingredients to a jam jar and shake well until thoroughly mixed and creamy in consistency.
4. Pour the dressing over the salad, toss well to coat. Season to taste with salt flakes and freshly ground black pepper.
5. Serve on its own or in rye (or however you like) with extra fresh dill and a drizzle of extra olive oil.

Hello!

It has been some time, hasn’t it? But now I’m back and I can finally wish you a Happy New Year! I hope the first two weeks of 2015 have been wonderful to you.

I don’t usually set myself resolutions for the new year, but last year I inadvertently gave up smoking, and I can happily say it’s been a total blast breathing much more easily over the last 379 days. This year however, I made a conscious decision to add a few life goals to my list this year:

• I will eat well, consistently and be as eco-friendly as possible
• I will listen more and talk about myself less
• I will appreciate what I have right now instead of yearning for what I could have

and;

• I will make this miso-tahini soup once a week for the rest of my life AMEN

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Ginger Miso Tahini Soup

Serves 4

Ingredients

500g medium squash, either butternut or coquina, cut into smallish pieces

1 tablespoon toasted sesame oil

Juice of half a navel orange

3 tablespoons miso paste

50g tahini

1 inch of ginger, peeled and minced

300-400g cooked brown rice

2 ripe avocados

Black sesame seeds

Method

1. Arrange the squash pieces on a baking tray and drizzle with 1 tablespoon toasted sesame oil and the juice of half an orange. Roast in the centre of the oven at 220°c (200°c Fan) for 45 minutes.
2. Add the miso paste to a bowl and add a couple of tablespoons of boiled water to loosen. In a large saucepan add the tahini, minced ginger and 500ml water and bring to the boil. Add the miso paste and reduce to a simmer for 5 minutes. Season to taste.
3. To serve, distribute the brown rice evenly into four bowls and top with roasted squash. Pour over the miso-tahini broth, top with half a sliced avocado and sprinkle with black sesame seeds.

I’m going to keep this one short and sweet because we’re all too busy with December to actually sit down and read anything of length right now. If it’s not after work drinks, some kind of Christmas themed event, dinner with friends or present buying then it’s decorating the tree, putting up Christmas lights and perfecting your mince pie recipe. If, and only if you have a spare moment, then it will certainly be to have a big glass of wine and watch shit tv. So, as I said… short n sweet.

I originally saw this wondrous recipe on Green Kitchen Stories (i.e. my happy place on the internet, after Pinterest) and immediately wanted to recreate them in my own kitchen. I tweaked the recipe a fair amount, depending on what I had in my cupboards, and subbed out the cheese altogether in favour of a dairy-free option.

The resulting quinoa patties are delicious little additions to add to any base for lunch or dinner; I enjoyed them with a simple cabbage salad one day and hummus and carrot sticks the next. Plus if you have leftover quinoa to begin with then these can be made in a snap.

Happy December!

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QUINOA + KALE PATTIES

Makes 8 patties

Ingredients

200g quinoa

500ml water

Pinch of salt

2 large handfuls of kale, stems discarded

2 eggs

100g silken tofu

1 teaspoon dried chilli flakes

1 tablespoon dried oregano

Olive oil for frying

Method

1. Star by cooking the quinoa; rinse 200g under cold water then add to a saucepan with 500ml of water and a pinch of salt. Bring to the boil, then reduce to a simmer and cook for around 20 minutes. Remove from heat and set aside to cool.
2. Once cool add the quinoa, kale leaves, eggs and tofu to a large bowl and mix well with your hands. Season generously and add the dried chilli and oregano. Pat down the mixture in the bowl and transfer to the fridge to set, around 30 minutes.
3. Shape the quinoa into 8 patties using your hands. Heat a few glugs of olive oil in a large pan and cook the patties in batches, around 4-5 minutes on each side or until golden and crisp.
4. Serve warm with a simple salad or perhaps a poached egg.

Notes -

By all means substitute the tofu for feta if you aren’t avoiding dairy. If you are following a vegan diet you could try using 200g silken tofu in place of the eggs as a binding agent.

Updated 17 Oct 2021

I’ve been making a mental list of things that I want to start doing when I move out into my own home. On this list there are projects and purchases, little gestures that I truly believe will make my life that bit more beautiful. I imagine becoming less reliant on supermarkets for our fruit and vegetables, instead taking the time each week to visit the local farmer’s market, butcher and fish monger. I see myself hand-selecting flowers and having an array of pretty vases to showcase them in. I picture making my own nut butters, almond milk and ice cream. There are other small things that I’d like to have too, like fresh orange juice daily, artisan bread (made by myself if I’m feeling particularly adventurous), interesting magazines and beautiful books for the coffee table and of course, pasta Sundays.

The latter is highest up on that list and probably the most likely to happen, no matter how much I fancy myself as a cross between Heidi Swanson and Rachel Ball.

I’m sure that traditionally pasta on a Sunday should be had with a slow-cooked meat sauce like ragù, but being a pasta fiend and predominately herbivorous a simple pesto is my go-to sauce for any celebration of carbohydrates. The kale adds an element of richness (and health benefit), but I couldn’t give up the basil altogether, however you can easily sub the basil and go all kale if that’s how you like to roll.

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Linguine with Kale Pesto

Makes roughly 300g pesto, serves 2

Ingredients

60g kale leaves, stems discarded

40g fresh basil leaves

1 clove of garlic

8 tablespoons mild/light olive oil

3 tablespoons pine nuts

2 tablespoons walnut halves

40g parmigiano reggiano, finely grated

30g pecorino romano, finely grated

250g linguine

Method

1. To make the pesto, in a food processor add the kale and basil leaves, garlic, walnuts, pine nuts, olive oil and a generous seasoning of salt and pepper and blend.

2. Stir in the grated cheese by hand. Add an extra glug of olive oil for good measure.

3. Cook the linguine according to packet instructions. When ready, drain and reserve a 1/4 cup of the pasta’s cooking water. Add 2 heaped tablespoons of the kale pesto to the hot pasta and add enough of the reserved water to loosen the sauce. Serve immediately.

Store the pesto in an airtight container covered with a little olive oil in the fridge. Keeps for a couple of weeks.

I’ve been thinking a lot about family history lately, where it all began and how I came about being on this earth. Brace yourself, I'm about to go deep. 

On my mother’s side it’s relatively straight-forward; our ancestors travelled from England to North America on the Mayflower, my grandpa was in the Navy, they settled in North Toronto. Thanks to a cousin taking an interest in our ancestry I’ve also discovered a bit more. For instance I have Dutch blood (in addition to the English, Irish, Scottish, French, German etc.) and it turns out I am a very distant relative to Clement Clarke Moore (that guy who wrote Twas The Night Before Christmas). I also know having looked through old photographs, that the family genes are remarkably strong – my younger brother is a clone of our grandpa, I resemble many of the women in our family, and my older brother has the family forehead, or so I’m told.

Despite being far closer to my dad’s side of the family, I can’t say I know as much about them. Knowing them (grandparents, cousins, uncles, aunts) isn’t the problem, it’s our broken history that is. Like all Armenians my family originate from Turkey, and when it became clear that they would have to leave or face ‘deportation’, they conceded and with that left and lost everything they had. My great-grandpa wrote a book about his experience of the genocide, in it listing the names of our family who perished; tragically only a handful made it to Ethiopia.

I know that from Ethiopia they moved to Cyprus where my dad was born, and as such where a lot of my inherited culture comes from (my father is a Cypriot of Armenian descent, as he likes to say). But what I’d like to know is what it had been like back in Turkey before they were forced to leave and start again. I want to know where they lived, how they’d drink their coffee and what music they’d listen to. Did they eat Armenian food or was there more Turkish influence? Did they stuff lahmajun with salad or roll it with lemon juice? Did they eat Çilbir for breakfast?

It’s just one of those things that I’ll probably never know. Either way, I’m going to continue enjoying these Turkish eggs for breakfast and imagine that my family once did too.

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Turkish Eggs [Çilbir]

Serves 2

Ingredients

2 or 4 eggs, depending on how many you’d like

250g Greek or thick strained yoghurt

30g unsalted butter

2 teaspoons smoked paprika

Sumac

2 wholemeal pittas, toasted

Method

1. Divide the yoghurt between two bowls.
2. Melt the butter on a medium heat until it starts to sizzle. Take it off the heat and whisk in the paprika. Set aside.
3. Poach the eggs in simmering water. Add a splash of white wine vinegar to boiling water, reduce to a simmer and slip the eggs in one at a time. Poach for 3-4 minutes for a runny yolk.
4. Remove the poached eggs using a slotted spoon and place on top of the yoghurt. Add a dash of sumac and drizzle with the chilli butter.
5. Serve with toasted pitta.

In 2010 I spent the summer travelling through Europe with my best friend. The original plan had been to travel along the coast of Spain through to the South of France, dip into Tuscany and head across to Hungary and other Eastern European destinations, before swinging back through Central Europe and returning home. Technically speaking we did follow this route, but we didn’t stick to our times. We stayed in Italy for as long as we possibly could without turning our Euro trip into just a trip to Italy.

We started in Genova, the home of pesto, hidden restaurants and narrow streets – it really is an unknown gem. Our next stop was Pisa where we spent our days living the nomad life and the hot evenings drinking cheap cocktails by the river. Next it was Florence where we found the number of tourists quite shocking and the ice cream irresistible, before we grabbed our backpacks and headed straight for what I consider to be Italy’s capital of food, Bologna. Finally we took a train to what would be our final destination in Italy: Venice.

Venice has a charm different to that of Rome or Naples, it’s rather more enchanting and I suppose a little less in your face. Of course there are days where the small canal-side streets are crawling with tourists, all eager to have spaghetti al vongole in San Marco square, but what makes this floating city special is that you can turn a corner and find yourself away from the hustle and bustle and in another world in a snap. It’s pretty easy to get lost, but that’s part of the fun.

We spent longer than expected in Venice, enjoying a life of somewhat luxury by staying with M’s aunt Julia in her beautiful renaissance apartment (SO Vicky Cristina Barcelona, right?). We spent our time divided between discovering the beauty of Venetian cuisine, free-riding traghettos and whiling the days away on the sandy shores of the lido. Flicking through the pages of my newest cookbook purchase reminded me of that trip, which now seems like so long ago. Better yet, it reminded me about the blog I kept while I was travelling; if you’re interested in seeing some horrendous grammatical errors and some amusing anecdotes you can find all of that here.

Now about this risotto, I can’t tell you enough how wonderfully simple and delicious it is, and after trying the method of adding the wine before the rice I will never go back to doing it the other way around. The fat from the prosciutto melts into the creamy risotto, which is in turn spiked with its saltiness and that of parmesan. Truly delectable.

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Asparagus Risotto with Prosciutto

Serves 2

Barely adapted from Polpo, A Venetian Cookbook (of sorts)

Ingredients

50g unsalted butter

2 tablespoons olive oil

1 white onion, finely chopped

100ml dry white wine

150g arborio rice

250g asparagus

700ml-1ltr vegetable stock

Parmesan

4 slices prosciutto crudo

Method

1. Heat 25g butter and olive oil then add the onion and sauté for 7 minutes or so until soft but not browned. Add the white wine and cook down for a few minutes before adding the rice and chopped asparagus (reserve the spears for addition later). Stir until the rice is well-coated and opaque.
2. Begin to add the stock, add a ladleful at a time and stir often. Don’t let the rice ever dry out before each addition. After about 15 minutes you should have reached the right consistency, but go by your personal taste.
3. Add the remaining butter and grate in a handful of parmesan, stir until melted and distributed and season to taste with salt and freshly cracked black pepper and leave to rest for a couple of minutes.
4. Serve topped with prosciutto and a sprinkling of parmesan.

Hello Sunday!

Obviously this is my favourite day of the week for many a reason. For starters I get to lounge around in bed in my pyjamas with panda eyes and messy hair without being judged, but mainly I love Sundays for the food. Being British it is expected that Sunday results in a roast, any kind of meat (or fish!) will do, it just has to be done in the oven. Be it a last minute kind of thing, a quick skip and a hop down to your local for a few slices of roast beef with a Yorkshire, or a premeditated and carefully calculated feat in the kitchen, the fruits of the pubs or your oven-slavery will undoubtedly be devoured in a matter of minutes. That is what Sundays were made for. They were also made for this.

Recently my amazingly talented brother was part of a production at the Royal Exchange in Manchester, so after 2 months when I heard he was coming back down to London for one day only I knew exactly what I had to do – Sunday lunch, a roast pork belly to be precise. What I love about pork belly when roasted is that it inevitably gets a pulled-like quality and it is juicy, melt-in-your-mouth hell yes kind of good. And the crackling. Ohhhh I can’t even talk about it without salivating.

Yes pork takes longer than other roasting options, but it is relatively fuss-free and absolutely worth it. Rub, roast, eat – simple.

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Roast Pork Belly

Serves 6-8

Ingredients

1.5kg pork belly

1 red onion

5 cloves of garlic

1 cooking apple

1 tablespoon fresh rosemary, chopped

1 teaspoon fennel seeds

1 teaspoon mustard seeds

Olive oil

2 fennel

300g carrots, left whole

1 lemon

Method

1. Preheat the oven to 300°c
2. In a pestle and mortar, grind the fennel and mustard seeds until a coarse powder.
3. Score the fatty layer of the pork, cutting through the fat but not into the meat itself. Either roast it flat or roll it up and tie it with butcher’s string – your call.
4. Rub the pork with olive oil, chopped rosemary and the fennel and mustard seeds and season liberally. Arrange the sliced apple, onion and garlic cloves in the baking pan and place the pork on top. Roast for 10 minutes until the skin starts to blister, then reduce the heat to 170°c and continue to roast for a further 2.5 – 3 hours.
5. For the fennel and carrots, add to the pan for the last 45 minutes of cooking, drizzle with olive oil, add the zest of a lemon and season well. Turn the vegetables half way through cooking.
6. Remove the pork from the pan, wrap in aluminum foil and leave to rest for about 15 minutes. Leave the carrots and the fennel in the oven with the onion and apple etc that the pork was roasting on to help them really caramelise and get even more moreish.
7. Serve with apple sauce and mustard, of course.