EAT DRINK LIVE

SWISS BANK ACCOUNT

Apologies for going A.W.O.L this last week, but I ran off to Galway (my grannys house in broadband-free countryside to be precise) with my little one for a few days to absorb as much sunshine as humanly possible. Returning with a pink forehead and suitably worn out child I have a rapid-fire post for you. I was a little unsure about choosing this frittata recipe because I've posted one before and the swiss chard I used in this one is not always readily available, in Limerick at least, but spinach is a more than acceptable substitute and frittata's are a great way of getting children to try new vegetables, so I'll carry on.

In season from now until the end of the autumn, I got some chard from a friends garden and had it in the pan less than an hour after it came out of the ground. It had already begun to wilt and I guess it's short shelf-life is one of the reasons for it's lack of availability. Chard is actually a member of the beet family and if you are fortunate enough to get your hands on fresh beetroot with a luxurious head of beautiful purple-veined leaves then these are another worthy substitute in this recipe ( Limerick folk need look no further than the Milk Market on Saturday mornings). Swiss chard comes in a variety of colours: green, white, yellow and red or even a rainbow mix of all four, called, surprisingly enough, rainbow chard. For convenience I'm going to stick to the green variety. Keep an eye out for vibrant green leaves and white stems no thicker than your thumb and keep refrigerated for no more than three days.

Intensely flavoured and nutrient rich (vitamin C, iron, potassium and magnesium to name a few) it is best to cook it as briefly as possible to retain it's colour, flavour and valuable nutrients. I loved this recipe because all the chard juices released into the pan are absorbed into the frittata, the slow-cooked onions sweetening their iron-rich, slightly bitter tang. The Parmesan adds protein making this an excellent choice for vegetarians. I was actually out of Parmesan (yes, I did feel as if I was missing a culinary limb) so I used Emmental, but any good melting cheese would work. It tastes just as good cold so make twice as much as you need, eating it with salad and crusty bread for dinner then cutting it into portable wedges for lunch or even a picnic the following day.

I'm hoping our leftovers will offset the effects of the warm chocolate muffins we had for breakfast  this morning.

Lisa and Ivonne are hosting what has become an annual Festa al Fresco blog event celebrating all seasonal foods so I'm going to send this over to their virtual patio party.

SWISS CHARD FRITTATA

• 25g butter
• 3 tbsp oil, sunflower or olive oil
• 1 small onion, finely diced
• 200g chard (or spinach)
• 5 eggs
• 5 tbsp freshly grated Parmesan (or Emmental or Gruyere)
• salt and pepper

1. Melt the butter with the oil in a frying pan over a low heat. Add the onion and cook for ten minutes until sweet and soft, but not brown. Trim of any rough ends at the bottom of the chard and wash well. Cut out the stems, chop and put them in the pan. Cook for two minutes. Chop the chard leaves and add these to the pan seasoning with salt and pepper. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the chard is soft about 5 minutes.
2. Meanwhile beat the eggs and Parmesan (or whatever cheese you are using) well in a bowl. Pour the mixture over the chard in the pan, still on the heat, and stir briefly. Leave it alone for a few minutes as the bottom will cook first.
3. When the frittata moves around in the pan like a fat pancake but is still wet on top, place it under a medium grill for 5-10 minutes, until the top firms but is still a little soft. Keep an eye on it as you don't want it to dry out. Serve warm with a crisp green salad and crusty bread, or cold on a picnic.

Serves 4.

MUM'S THE WORD.

To all of you out there screaming "Not another carrot soup recipe!" there is method to my conformity. First of all five posts on, I have to get back to some less sugar-laden cooking, before my brother wrestles his camera from my vice-like grip in the name of all that's healthy. Secondly, it's halfway through the summer holidays and I have four more weeks of entertaining and feeding a child during one of the wettest summers on record. With hidden caches of jelly beans and fizzy-cola bottles scattered throughout the apartment, the never-ending task of being the sole provider of three square meals a day can become more than a little daunting.

Don't get me wrong, I know that food evokes some of the most powerful memories of childhood, and I love that I will figure in the background of most of these memories, but I'm not a selfish person, I'm willing to share this honour once in a while. I've realised that I have fallen into the trap this summer of repeating recipes that I know she will eat, running the risk of discouraging her from trying new foods and becoming bored with the ones she already enjoys. So, I'm making a mini resolution to try at least one new recipe a week, whether they will be successful enough to share I'll have to wait and see. I think I'll save the old favourites for those days when I hear that sweet-toned voice calling "Mum" for the hundreth time, and I realise just how many questions I don't know the answer to.

This is my all time favourite soup, from one of my favourite cookbooks. I've spoken about Eat Up before and I'll wholeheartedly recommend it again. The soup is carrot and cumin and though technically a winter vegetable, sweet, flavoursome carrots are available all year round. Organic is all well and good, but in this case I'd settle for the dirt-encrusted Irish ones, sporting feathery green tops whether organic or not. Seasoned with mild cumin and a little thyme, I could eat it all year round. It's comforting enough for winter and Irish summers and light enough for warmer weather should you be likely to experience this. Occasionally I throw in a parsnip if there is one lying forlornly in the fridge and sometimes I roast the vegetables in the oven, but I'm just as likely to follow the recipe exactly as it is below.

When life hurls days like these in your direction, seek solace in a bottle of hard liquor bowlful of soup.

Recipe is from Eat Up by Mark Hix:

CARROT & CUMIN SOUP

• 1 small onion, peeled and roughly chopped
• 8-10 medium carrots, about 500g
• 1 tsp cumin seeds
• leaves from a few sprigs of thyme
• 2 tbls olive oil
• 1 litre vegetable stock
• creme fraiche to serve, optional

1. Gently cook the onion, carrots, cumin and thyme in the olive oil for about ten minutes, until the vegetables begin to soften.
2. Add the stock, bring to the boil and simmer for 30 minutes. Puree in a blender until smooth, then strain through a fine sieve (I usually don't bother to do this).
3. Season with salt and pepper to taste, top with a dollop of creme fraiche and serve piping hot with crusty bread inch thick with butter.
4. Alternatively, put the onion, carrots, cumin and thyme in a roasting tin, toss with the olive oil and roast in an oven preheated to 200 C until soft, about 30 minutes. Transfer to a large saucepan, add the vegetable stock and bring to the boil. Blend the soup and season and serve as above .

Serves 2 adults and 2 small children.(or me and my little one with enough left over to console me the next day)

WHAT WILL I DO NOW?

Sometimes you can find treasure in the most surprising of places. While in Lidl last week I spotted a tray of the most beautiful fresh beans in their red and cream patterned pods. With the vague title "red beans" on the label I had no idea what they were and even less of and idea what I was going to do with them when I got them home. Once there, however I did a little Google detective work and quickly discovered that they were borlotti beans and were a common ingredient in Italian cooking (I guess the "Product of Italy" on the label should have given that away), but notoriously difficult to find fresh over here. My treasure had just gotten a little more sparkly.

My little one commandeered a few beans and they are currently sitting on a sunny windowsill between the side of a jar and a dampened paper napkin (pink, naturally) being encouraged to sprout. I didn't want to squander the remaining contents of my pirates chest, so I had naive visions of a lightly dressed, burgundy-speckled bean salad, but of course after being immersed in boiling water for 30 minutes+, the beautiful colour had, sadly, been reduced to a muddy brown. So where else would I look for inspiration but in my Silver Spoon. Pulses can often be seen as a "filler" to add substance to soups, stews, salads etc, but even used like this you can see their versatility. Having gone to the trouble of stumbling across these, however, I didn't want them to take a backseat and was happy to discover that they were plump and full of flavour in their own right. A little bubbling in garlic and sage infused water gave depth to their earthy, almost meaty flavour and a quick light tomato sauce brought them back some crimson glory. I had 350g of beans (including pods) so I adjusted the recipe below accordingly and ate them simply piled on a doorstop of toasted white bread. I can see it on the chalkboard now:

" Hand-podded borlotti beans infused with garlic and sage, dressed in a tomato and basil reduction and served on toasted home-made sour dough bread."

" So that would be beans on toast then? "

" Um, yes madam it would."

FAGIOLI ALLA PIZZAIOLA

• 1 kg (weight in pods) fresh borlotti beans, shelled
• 2 celery stalks
• 3 fresh sage leaves
• 1 garlic clove
• 25g butter
• 4 tbls tomato passata
• 4 fresh basil leaves, torn
• 1 fresh flat-leaf parsley sprig, chopped
• salt & pepper to taste
• Thick slices of your favourite crusty bread, toasted

1. Put the beans in a saucepan, pour in enough water to cover by at least 2 inches and add one of the celery stalks, the sage and the garlic. Bring to the boil, then lower the heat and simmer for one hour or until tender. Start checking after 40 minutes, you don't want them to turn into mush. Drain, remove and discard the sage and garlic, place the beans in a serving dish and keep warm.
2. Meanwhile, thinly slice the remaining celery. Melt the butter in a saucepan, add the passata, celery and basil and cook until slightly reduced, about 5-7 minutes. Pour the sauce over the beans, season with salt and pepper and mix well. Sprinkle with the parsley and serve.

Serves 4 as posh beans-on-toast.

P.S. Just after writing this I found a recipe for a borlotti bean soup from the archives of my fellow Daring Baker, the wonderfully talented Ilva @ Lucullian Delights.

Click here for some aliases and more accessible substitutes.

ORANGE CRUSH

Salad days are here to stay, for a little while at least...

This salad is based on a recipe from Grub by Jane Lawson.

ROASTED BUTTERNUT SQUASH SALAD

• 2 butternut squash, about 2kg in total
• 60ml olive oil
• 3 tsps Maldon sea salt flakes
• a few large sprigs of thyme, broken into smaller sprigs
• 3 large handfuls rocket (arugula)
• 50g walnuts or pecans, toasted and roughly chopped
• pinch of cinnamon, optional

For the mustard dressing:

• 5 tbls olive oil
• 2 heaped tbls dijon mustard
• 1 heaped tbls wholegrain mustard
• 2 tbls white wine vinegar
• salt & pepper
• pinch brown sugar, optional

1. Preheat the oven to 220 C. Cut the pumpkins in half and remove the seeds, but do not peel. Cut into thick wedges or slices. Toss the pumpkin with the olive oil, sea salt flakes and thyme sprigs, then spread out in two roasting tins. Bake for an hour, or until the pumpkin is tender and caramelised at the edges. Remove from the oven and allow to cool to room temperature.
2. Put all the mustard dressing ingredients in a small jug or bowl and whisk together
3. Toss the pumpkin and rocket leaves together briefly and turn out gently onto a serving platter. Drizzle over the dressing, sprinkle with nuts and serve.

Serves 4 as a lunch dish or 6 as a side-dish.

I'm sending this on over to Ilva and Joanna for their excellent Heart of the Matter food event.

ROCKET SCIENCE

Two of my good Daring Baker buddies' Lisa at La Mia Cucina and Kelly at Sass and Veracity embarked on a Salad Stravaganza quest recently to obtain salad recipes that would save their thighs and keep them inspired at the same time. This is a big departure from our usual quadruple-bypass recipes, and it being summer, a welcome one. I was finding it hard to choose because I wanted something better than the "would you like some more leaves?" offerings, and as a non-meat eater this can often be my lunch option in a cafe, with some goats cheese and the odd sun-dried tomato on top for extra sustenance. When I came across this recipe for a spiced orange and avocado salad it promised to do wonders for the thighs of the world if I chose it, how could I refuse.

I admit I have never tasted anything quite like this before, guacamole is the extent of my experience with avocado and though I know citrus fruits and spices match well with it, my first bite was a tentative one to see if it was going to work out. The soft buttery avocado, the sharp citrus tang and the subtle warm spices are a beautiful thing. The cardamom is the most dominant of the spices but still remains in the background and the peppery rocket just pulls it all together. I quartered the recipe below but devoured it in two minutes flat and stared at the plate willing it to be full again. This is a keeper for this summer, my own thighs feel more virtuous already, I now pass it on to Lisa and Kelly...

This recipe comes from the 30 Minute Vegetarian

SPICED ORANGE & AVOCADO SALAD

• 4 large juicy oranges
• 2 small ripe avocados, stoned and peeled
• 2 tsps cardamom pods
• 3 tbls light olive oil
• 1 tbls clear honey
• good pinch of ground allspice
• 2 tsps lemon juice
• salt & pepper
• few handfuls rocket (arugula) or watercress, to garnish

1. Cut a very thin slice off the bottom of each orange to help hold it steady as you peel it. Using a sharp knife and following the curve of the fruit, slice off the skin and the white membrane underneath. Over a bowl ,to catch the juice, cut between the membranes to segment the oranges. Put all the segments in the bowl.
2. Slice the avocados and toss gently with the orange segments, the juice will help prevent the avocado from browning. Pile onto serving plates.
3. Reserve a few whole cardamom pods for decoration. Crush the remaining pods using a pestle and mortar to extract the seeds, or use a small bowl and the end of a rolling pin. Pick out and discard the pods. Mix the seeds with the oil, honey, allspice, lemon juice, salt & pepper and reserved orange juice.
4. Garnish the salads with rocket (arugula) or watercress and spoon the dressing over the top. Serve.

Serves 4

ROLLIN' ROLLIN' ROLLIN'...

                           

We would like to apologise for any inconvenience caused during renovations! There's a bit of a makeover going on around here, simply because I wouldn't be able to do any justice to the photos all of you (hint, hint) are going to be sending in with the layout as it was before. So, sorry to anyone who is trying to wander around while I'm fiddling! Just to prove that there are no divaish behaviour going on, I've hung up my imaginary sparkly Donna Hay tiara and taken myself back into the kitchen for some seasonal cooking.

Although not always as scrupulous as I should be about eating seasonally (I'll eat my comfort food any time I feel like it thank you very much) there are certain fruits and vegetables I look forward to with anticipation and I try that bit harder to only eat them at the right time of year. Corn-on-the-cob in the autumn, Clementine's at Christmas, watermelon and strawberries at the height of summer and just as the spring is springing - asparagus. I came close to missing it this year as the season is so short that you could blink and miss the changeover from Peruvian asparagus to the closer-to-home varieties. I was keeping my eyes open at the farmers market and in the shops since the middle of May and the least traveled I got was British. England is incredibly proud of its asparagus (available from May-June), and it is often praised by chefs as being the best in the world. If it's good enough for them...

I most often eat these whip-thin spears simply brushed with good olive oil, griddled, seasoned then scattered with Parmesan shavings, while leaning against the counter close to the griddle pan (can you say asbestos fingers?) but you don't really need me to tell you how to do that. Instead, here's a more substantial recipe of a souffle(ish) Parmesan and basil roulade stuffed with ricotta, asparagus and spinach. Serve it with a deep, rich tomato sauce, thickened from a slow simmer, on a futon bed of very lightly dressed rocket (arugula) leaves and you have an elegant, prepare-ahead, dish to serve to, oh about 6 people. The asparagus is still guaranteed that place in the spotlight, but with a pretty fine bunch of backing singers.

This recipe comes from the May 2005 issue of Good Food magazine

CHEESE AND ASPARAGUS ROULADE

For the roulade:

• 85g butter
• 100g plain flour
• 400ml milk, warmed
• 7 eggs, separated
• handful basil leaves, shredded
• 50g Parmesan, grated

For the filling:

• 250g tub ricotta
• 100g emmental, grated
• 12 spears asparagus, blanched in boiling water, halved length-ways if thick
• handful baby spinach
• 200g rocket (arugula) leaves, to serve

1. Heat the oven to 200 C. Line a 30 x 40cm greased tray with greaseproof paper or baking parchment. Melt the butter at a medium heat, in a heavy-based pan, add the flour and, stirring constantly, cook for 3 minutes. Off the heat, add milk a little at a time, mixing well to ensure it's smooth (this is essentially a bechamel sauce up to this point). Stir in the egg yolks. In a bowl, beat the whites until stiff, then mix a large spoonful into the pan to loosen the mixture. Gently fold in the remaining egg whites and basil, then season.
2. Spread the mixture onto the lined tray so it forms a 2cm-thick (approx.) rectangular shape; top with grated Parmesan and cook for 15 minutes until springy and risen. Leave to cool in the tray.
3. Lay the base, still on the greaseproof paper, on a board so that the roughest side is facing upwards. to make the filling, mix together the ricotta and emmental, season, then spread onto the roulade base leaving a gap at the top and bottom of the longer edges. Lay the asparagus lengthwise, running parallel to the long sides, on top of the ricotta and sprinkle the spinach on top.
4. Roll up the roulade, peeling it away from the greaseproof paper as you go, as if making a swiss roll, to get a long cylinder shape. Wrap in greaseproof paper, then in foil and twist the ends so it looks like a cracker. Chill for at least 1 hour but preferably overnight.
5. When serving, heat the grill to high. To serve, cut the roulade with a serrated into 2 cm slices and arrange on one or two greased baking trays. Turn down the grill to medium and cook for about 5 minutes. CAREFULLY turn over the slices using a fish slice and grill for another 5 minutes until slightly crisp. Arrange 2 slices per person onto each plate and serve with the tomato sauce (recipe below) and a few lightly dressed rocket leaves (too much vinegar will mask the asparagus).

For the simple tomato sauce:

• 50ml olive oil
• 1 small onion, chopped
• 1 stick celery, finely chopped
• 2 cloves garlic, chopped
• 2 tbsp tomato puree
• 2 x 400g chopped tomatoes
• 100ml red wine
• 100ml vegetable stock

1. Heat the oil in a large pan and gently fr the onion, celery and garlic until soft. Add the puree and cook for a few minutes. Stir in the tomatoes, wine and stock, season and bring to the boil.
2. Turn the heat right down, half cover the pan and simmer for about 1 hour until you have a rich thick sauce, stirring every now and again.

Serves 6 with seconds (for you when everyone goes home).

COME BACK SUMMER...ALL IS FORGIVEN!

                        

Where the hell is our summer gone! I've had to resort to lighting a fire in the evenings again because I refuse to turn on the wallet-crushing electric storage heating in the apartment and it's bloody cold. I may not be the biggest fan of summer (anything over 18 C makes me lethargic and remember I'm in front of a hot oven seven days a week) but this is ridiculous. Hailstones! In almost June!! The only silver lining here (if it's possible to find silver lining on never-ending clouds) is that I can stick with my favourite comfort foods and not feel obliged to dig out my salad tossers.

I'm posting this lasagne recipe around the same time as Lorraine @ Italian Foodies to give you a choice between this lightweight meat-free recipe and Lorraine's rich, slow cooked, meat ragu based lasagne. Mine is less time consuming than the traditional one, I'm not talking about making your own pasta or tomato sauce from scratch here, but it still needs about an hour of focused time. The recipe comes from Tessa Kiro's Apples for Jam an exquisite family cookbook that will turn you green with envy as she shares anecdotes of her idyllic life in Tuscany. I used the variation suggested and layered dollops of pesto with the tomato sauce and besciamella. If you want to make home-made pesto go ahead but I often use a fresh pesto from the market.

I'm not sure what those Italian Foodies will make of this interpretation. One suggestion of Lorraine's I will be taking on board is preparing the dish the day before and leaving it to sit in the fridge overnight. Already perfect for sharing, this would give me time for a snooze before having to feed the masses. Crisp green salad and home-made garlic bread will make you an even more generous, well-rested hostess (I'm sure this is a  Italian cardinal sin but what are you going to do?!)

Disclaimer: Okay so the weather has improved a little since yesterday when I wrote the above, but I stand by my disgruntled moaning. This is Ireland I'm sure it will have changed again in the next... oh five minutes or so.

Recipe from Apples for Jam by Tessa Kiros

TOMATO AND PESTO LASAGNE

For the tomato sauce:

• 125ml olive oil
• 3 garlic cloves peeled but left whole
• 1.2 kg (3 x 400g) tin of chopped tomatoes
• good handful of basil leaves, torn

For the besciamella and assembly:

• 120g butter
• 80g plain flour
• 1 litre milk, warmed in a saucepan with a bay leaf
• freshly grated nutmeg
• salt and freshly ground pepper
• about 350g dried lasagne sheets
• 75g pesto
• 80g Parmesan cheese, freshly grated

1. For the tomato sauce, heat the oil and garlic in a large pan. When you begin to smell the garlic, add the tomatoes and a good pinch of salt and bring it to the boil. Lower the heat and cook uncovered for about 20-25 minutes, until it has all merged into a sauce. add the basil and 250ml of hot water towards the end of the cooking time. The recipe suggests pureeing until smooth but I keep mine chunky and I remove two of the garlic cloves and smush the other one against the side of the saucepan. This releases just enough of the soft sweet garlic flavour.
2. Meanwhile make the besciamella by melting the butter over a medium heat in a small heavy based saucepan. Whisk in the flour and cook for a few minutes, stirring constantly until the mixture smells nutty. Begin adding the warm milk (removing the bay leaf). It will be immediately absorbed so this is a little awkward at first just try to add the milk slowly and whisk at the same time, though I find it hard to stop my saucepan skittering across the hob. When you've added all the milk the sauce will be thin so keep cooking, stirring constantly until smooth and thick, about five minutes. Add the seasoning and a grating of nutmeg and continue bubbling away for another five minutes or so, stirring all the time. It should be a very thick, smooth sauce. I put a sheet of cling film or greaseproof paper directly on the surface of the sauce until I'm ready to assemble the dish.
3. Preheat the oven to 180 C and grease a deep 22 x 30cm approx baking dish. Drizzle some besciamella over the base to cover it thinly. Put a slightly overlapping layer of lasagne sheets on top. Ladle a thin layer of tomato sauce over that, spreading it with the back of the ladle. Add about two ladlefuls of besciamella in long thin drizzles and then little dollps of pesto, scatter over some Parmesan. Add another layer of lasagne sheets, then tomato, besciamella, pesto and Parmesan as before, and then repeat the layers one more time. You need quite a lot of besciamella to cover the final layer of lasagne sheets so be sparing during the layering process. Drizzle a last few tablespoons of tomato sauce and pesto over the top and sprinkle with any remaining Parmesan. Bake for about 30 minutes until golden and bubbling on top. Leave to sit for about ten minutes before serving with a crisp green salad and garlic bread.

Serves 6

DECONSTRUCTING CAESAR

                        

Before you think you're having one of those dreams where you're naked in class and the teacher suddenly ask you to stand up and read out your essay on the use of allegory in Shakespeare's Julius Caesar, it's not that kind of Caesar. Although, while I have your undivided attention (because, of course , you always paid attention in class, naked or otherwise) I would like do a little horn tooting... (Hey you there! Yes, you at the back, I'm warning you, one more giggle from you and you're out!) Now where was I? Ah yes, I'd just like to toot my own horn for a moment if I may... (Right that's it, you've had your chance... Out!!)

As you may be able to tell, I am quietly proud of this recipe which is my entry for Katie's Caesar salad themed HHDD#12. For those if you who don't know, Hay Hay Donna Day was founded by Barbara at Winos and Foodies in celebration of all things Donna Hay. Each month a theme is chosen, then you can vote for your favourite (ahem), the winner hosts the next round and chooses the new theme, and so it continues. When I first saw that Caesar salad had been chosen my mind drew a blank as it didn't involve chocolate, somehow I don't think the fusion of those two would be particularly successful. Next, I tried to figure out if I could somehow morph it into muffin form, but strangely the thought of baked, limp, stringy lettuce didn't appeal. Not being sure what constitutes a classic Caesar salad, I make my own version of it in the summer with tomatoes and giant Parmesan encrusted croutons, but I didn't feel like making that either. Indecisive, me? So, when I was ruthlessly clearing out the years old stockpile of interiors magazines hiding in my cupboard (dating back to when I was more interested in what the kitchen looked like than what was cooked in it) I discovered a treasure trove of recipes in the back of each issue. One recipe was for little canapes of Parmesan crisps and hard-boiled quail eggs topped off with salad. There it was, the basic known elements in one perfect little mouthful.

I do know that Caesar dressing is made with a base of lightly coddled eggs, so the diminutive quail eggs took their place. As the dressing no longer needed an egg, I made one with creme fraiche and Worcestershire sauce, and I left out the bread altogether deeming it unnecessary on this occasion. Place the egg atop crunchy golden Parmesan, scatter with crisp sweet Cos lettuce and tomatoes (my addition) and barely touch with the tangy dressing. Now, I think I'm willing to take on Cesar Cardini in a battle for his title.

Sorry what? You want to come back in? Only if you think you can control yourself. Sit down then. Okay class, please turn to page 69 of your textbooks...

MINI CAESAR SALAD BITES

For the Parmesan crisps

• 75g Parmesan, grated

For the Caesar dressing

• 2 tsps Dijon mustard
• 1/2 tsp sugar
• 1 tbls white wine vinegar
• 5 tbls olive oil
• 2 tbls creme fraiche
• a dash of Worcestershire sauce
• salt & pepper

To assemble

• Cos lettuce leaves, finely shredded
• 6 quail eggs, hard-boiled for about ninety seconds and cut in half
• 2 cherry tomatoes, deseeded and finely sliced
• olives, roasted peppers, finely sliced (optional)

1. First make the Parmesan crisps. Preheat the oven to 180 C. Very lightly grease a non-stick baking sheet. Use about 1 heaped teaspoon of grated Parmesan to form a circle about 4-5cm in diameter, teasing out the cheese with the tip of a knife to distribute it evenly. If you have a cookie cutter around this size just put it in the sheet, sprinkle in the Parmesan, then lift it up and move it over to form the next circle. You should get 12 crisps, if you get more then they're your cooks treat! Bake in the oven for 8 minutes but keep an eye on them because ovens vary. When they look golden and bubbly, remove from the oven. Give them a few seconds before starting to remove them with a thin spatula, they'll harden quickly and become difficult to remove. Gently bend them around a rolling pin while still pliable, if you want a curved shape. If they harden before you have lifted them off the baking sheet (mine did) put back in the oven for a minute and try again. Set aside.
2. To make the dressing; whisk together the mustard, sugar and vinegar, then gradually whisk in the oil. Whisk in the creme fraiche, season and add a dash of Worcestershire sauce. This makes more dressing than you'll need but just use it as a dip for the lettuce leaves you have left over, like I'm doing right now!
3. To assemble: place a Parmesan crisp on a serving plate, put half a quails egg on top, then sprinkle over some shredded lettuce and tomato and drizzle with a little dressing. Continue until you have used up all the crisps. Serve.

Makes 12 heavenly mouthfuls.

WASTE NOT....

                         

Have you ever had one of those days when you're already two hours behind before you even get up, and spend the rest of the day playing catch up? I didn't intend posting this recipe today because there have been a few frittata recipes floating about in the ether recently, my favourite being Ari at Baking and Books contribution to A Taste of Yellow. I don't  know what the blog etiquette is on posting similar recipes, but with so many wonderful blogs out there I guess it's sometimes inevitable. As my day of tearing around like a lunatic, and spilling just about every liquid I set my hand to, culminated in me sending the pot of rice, to go with my little one's favourite curry, crashing to the floor, I sat whimpering pathetically in my naan bread. Murphy's law had at least allowed me to give the little one her plate first so she was unfazed by my hunger and lack of recipe to post. Frittata it is then.

This is barely a recipe as I don't usually take note of what quantities I use, but it does fit in nicely with the thrifty phase I'm going through. Not that it should be a phase of course, the amount of food that gets left to spoil in the back of the cupboard or fridge is criminal. I read a survey recently that said that 3.3 million tonnes of edible waste gets thrown in the bin in the UK every year. I don't know if a similar survey has been carried out here in Ireland but I imagine that, per head, we're not that far behind.

Being able to make two simple meals, two days in a row, from the same basic ingredients without boring a six year old is a mini-achievement, so I make this the day after cooking Pasta with Feta and Rocket to use up the more perishable ingredients, that she likes to eat them is an added bonus. I add peas and a few baby potatoes to the frittata and serve it with some shredded Little Gem lettuce dressed simply with olive oil and balsamic vinegar. If I secretly stash a wedge of it away for a quiet lunch for myself the next day thats okay, it would be a shame to let it go to waste.

FETA, ROCKET AND PEA FRITTATA

• 8 eggs
• 100g feta cheese
• 1 small onion, or a few spring onions
• 1 medium potato or about 6 baby ones, cooked and cubed
• couple of handfuls of rocket (also known as arugula or rucola), chopped
• 100g fresh or frozen peas, I usually use frozen and toss them on undefrosted
• salt & pepper
• butter or olive oil for frying
• splash of cream, optional

1. If you have not already cooked the potatoes do so now. Preheat the grill to medium. Fry the onion gently in butter or oil in a 10-12 inch frying pan until softened and translucent. Whisk the eggs in a large bowl with a little cream, if using, and season. Be a little mean with your seasoning as the feta is salty and the rocket is peppery. Add the cooked potato, chopped rocket and the cooked onion, mix together briefly and pour back into the (unwashed) pan. Crumble over the feta and cook over a medium heat until beginning to set and colour on the bottom. While still uncooked on top sprinkle over the peas and leave to cook for another few minutes.
2. Place under the pre-heated grill until the edges are puffed up and the frittata is golden on top. I like mine to be softly set in the middle so I keep a close eye on it under the grill. Leave to cool down for about 10 minutes before serving with a simply dressed green salad and some crusty bread if you like.

Serves 4, but you might not have any leftovers for yourself!

IT'S NOT EASY BEING GREEN

                        

My local library is proving to be a relief to monolithic burden on my wallet caused by my addiction to ink on paper. I joined about four years ago and it was there that I was introduced to Nigel Slater's Appetite and Claudia Roden's unparalleled Book of Jewish Food. Of course, I have gone on to buy some of the books I discovered, the problem with the library is that they do, eventually, want their books back, so some damage is still being done. And do you know they also have shelves and shelves full of books with no recipes or pictures of food in them, just words that combine to make a story?! I have found it all too hard of late to make the time to feed my literary cravings, so for every cookbook I borrow I try to find a novel by someone I have not read before. This plan backfires occasionally by introducing me to an author who becomes an addiction in their own right.  So it is that, over the past few months, I have found myself on a whole new, determined, quest to read the entire bibliography of J.M. Coetzee's writings. I have come to him rather late and there is an extensive body of work for me to catch up on but to be honest I would probably read the mans shopping list so it's not proving to be a very heavy burden. But, on to the more pressing matter of physical hunger.

I'm sticking with my vegetable antidotes for now, so the most recent book I borrowed was Tamsin Day Lewis' Simply the Best. Her books are happily a combination between food and literature. Daughter of the Irish poet Cecil Day-Lewis ( and of course her brother is Daniel Day-Lewis) she has words running through her veins and her style is prosaic and passionate. Dedicated to eating the best quality produce as possible as seasonally as possible she would probably be happier meeting the pig her pork is to come from before he ends up in her oven. Fruit and vegetables should be eaten when they're ready to be picked from ground and tree, not when they arrive from the far corners of the planet. Though she is earnest almost to a fault at times she doesn't make you feel like a hardened criminal for eating a raspberry in March. I did have to laugh when I was ticking off the ingredients for the soup recipe I chose: spinach; check, potato; check, when it got to the stock she said she used pheasant, now unless you count an old stuffed pheasant in my mothers attic, I fell a little short of the mark here and used vegetable bouillon. If you have pheasant stock to hand I hold you in awe. I was able to scatter a few delicately purple flowers on top, as my rosemary was happily coming into flower.

Quick point about this photo, it is shamelessly inspired by one from Heidi Swanson's, of 101 Cookbooks, new book. I saw the photo on her site and I knew that I wanted to try something similar with these beautiful cups and saucers I have had in my cupboard awaiting their moment of glory. All I needed was something green.

This recipe is Tamasin's take on a spinach soup she ate while in Ballymaloe House in West Cork.

SPINACH & ROSEMARY SOUP

• 675g spinach,washed and tough stalks discarded
• 2 medium potatoes, peeled and cubed
• 1 medium onion, peeled and chopped
• 4/5 sprigs of rosemary
• olive oil
• butter
• 1.5 litres of stock, I used vegetable but if you have pheasant handy go right ahead
• salt, pepper and lemon juice

1. Gently cook the potato, onion and three sprigs of finely chopped rosemary in a little olive oil and butter in a large saucepan over a medium-low heat. Season. When the vegetables begin to soften and turn translucent, add the stock, bring to the boil, then simmer until potatoes are tender, about ten minutes.
2. Meanwhile strip the rosemary from the remaining two sprigs of rosemary and pound in a pestle and mortar with apinch of salt until well crushed. Pour in a spoonful of olive oil and continue to pound until you have a rosemary infused oil . ( I love using a pestle and mortar, it makes me feel like an alchemist!)
3. Throw the washed spinach, with the water still clinging to it, into a large pan and stir briskly until just wilting about a minute or so. Chop down a bit before putting into the pan with the stock and vegetables. Blitz in the food processor or with a stick blender. Return to the pan and heat until just at boiling point, squeeze in the juice of about half a lemon. Stir in the rosemary oil off the heat (I saved a little to drizzle on top), don't season until this point as there is salt in the rosemary oil and it is all too easy to over-season the soup (as I learned). Season to taste and serve.

Serves 8 but is easy to reduce quantities to serve less than this.