Recipe Rifle: a digital original

Last year, in secret, I spent an awfully long time trying to get someone to publish Recipe Rifle as a book, but in the end failed.

It was a perfectly ghastly experience, looking back. At the time it seemed sort of fun, a respite from the tedious task of administering to a small baby. But in actual fact it was just disappointment after disappointment, I existed in a horrid limbo. Hopes up, hopes dashed. Eventually, total disaster, angry words and a general collapse. I wasn't really surprised: dancing in front of a weary, malfunctioning publishing industry, chronically unable to sell myself, I often said things in meetings like "You know, the way things are at the moment, I probably wouldn't take this book on if I were you."

And, worse, these publishing people would say to me: "Why would someone buy this book? I mean, why would they pick it up in Waterstones?" By the third time I heard this I would want, powerfully, to claw their eyes out, kick them in the stomach and scream "You tell me you fucking idiot! That's your job not mine! Jesus fucking Christ, no wonder the whole damn thing is collapsing round your ears if you're asking me why someone would buy a freaking book. I'm going home."

But I did not do that.

Instead I cut all ties to that miserable year, sulked in my tent for a while, then sought out instead The Friday Project, a publishing house that specialises in bringing blogs to a wider audience. And when I say that, I mean that they make it possible for otherwise unpublishable authors (that's me) to sell their work, without it being considered "vanity" (i.e. "mad") publishing.

The bloke who runs The Friday Project, Scott, is terrific. He doesn't ask me who will buy my book. He doesn't ask me, looking worried, how I think I am going to turn the blog into a "story". He just said "Put together whatever you think is best and maybe some people will buy it if they like it."

"Will you make it really cheap?" I asked, anxiously. "I mean, like, 50p so it's crazy not to buy it, like a vest top from H&M??"

"Not that cheap," he said. "But not expensive either."

The catch is that you will only be able to buy it online and read it on your iPad or Kindle or other e-reader, (unless it becomes a freak hit and the cost of printing the book becomes negligable). A "digital original", they call it, with graceful euphemism. and I don't get an advance, I am only paid for what I sell. But frankly with my shitty attitude that's a good thing. Give me money and I won't do anything. Give me a deadline and the possibility of money and I will work. A bit.

SO - my readers, my lovely, lovely readers who have been with me through thick and thin, through marriage, births, ups and downs (no deaths - yet) do you have a favourite post that you think I ought to definitely include? One that you can recall made you laugh? Are there any that were really bad - have I had a dodgy patch? Am I boring when I bang on about a certain thing?

Tell me! Tell me, tell me. I have to file my first draft in October.

BE HONEST.

Mango salsa

SORRY NO PIC, BLOGGER PLAYING UP. COMING SOON. IT SORT OF LOOKS LIKE A BOWL OF CHOPPED MANGO WITH GREEN AND RED BITS IN IT. VERY NICE. YOU CAN FIND SOMETHING SIMILAR BY GOOGLING "MANGO SALSA"

It's been an epiphanous week.

It started when my nanny got flu. "I can come in, I suppose," she said faintly down the phone last Monday. "My temperature is only 103."

"No you're alright," I said. And then started to panic about how the fuck I was going to cope alone, no nanny, no cleaner (holiday) no husband (out covering the Olympics) no mummy (holiday) no sisters (holiday) no local friends (holiday - and I don't have that many anyway) for an entire week.

I won't lie, I have never looked forward to being in sole charge of Kitty. It's a thing that depresses me - both spending a lot of time alone with her and also being depressed about being depressed about it.

At first it was ghastly. She didn't seem to want to be with me any more than I wanted to be with her. I dragged her hither and thither in her buggy, shunting her quickly from one activity to the next, shied away from the tv like it was an unexploded bomb. If it got turned on, I fretted, it would never turn off again until she goes to nursery next September.

When Kitty would go down for her lunchtime nap I would get in to bed and pull the duvet over me, squeeze my eyes shut and think "Christ, how are we going to manage this?"

But by Tuesday afternoon I had it licked.

I don't know if all toddlers are the same but Kitty has this incredibly short attention span, like a drunk, and what she likes to do is roam. So I turned the ground floor into a sort of toddler fresher's fair, with small activities ranged around, from telly at one end, stickers, drawing and playdoh in the middle, the iPad somewhere around, books and rice cakes towards the kitchen, a paddling pool in the garden and her own mini-buggy with which to commute between these activities.

The telly was on all day, every day, all week, set to a murmuring background volume, tuned to CBeebies, although she was not, in the end, as interested in it as I feared. And anyway I ceased to care one way or the other. I let go. She ranged around, singing, talking to herself, talking to me, talking to the mirror, climbing on and off furniture, digging around in the dirt, flopping out on her beanbag in front of Mr Tumble, gorging on raspberries from the garden, vomiting dramatically and then saying "Oh dear!!" while she regarded the red puddle. Meanwhile, I found that I did actually have time to cook and the house didn't fall into irreparable chaos, (although there has been an awful lot of scrabbling around for things at the last minute).

We had a wicked time. Honestly we did. I'm not just saying that, in some sort of "Ooo and then everything was alright" kind of way. It was great. I learned all sorts of things about her I didn't know. It was genuinely hilarious. I didn't miss any of the things I do when I've got a nanny. I realised, in fact, that I don't especially enjoy myself when I do have that free time.

Like now. I am sitting alone in my huge, spooky house while Kitty is out with her nanny and 40,000 other Caribbean children somewhere in Peckham having an amazing time and will not be back until bathtime.

And if I think about it too much, I might get upset. So let's go; let's fly you and I away from this gloomy now, to a different time, back to 2006 when I had just started on Londoner's Diary, which as I'm sure you know is the gossip page of the Evening Standard.

One day appeared a new girl in the editor's office. The editor liked to have a lot of girls around and she was very mean to all of them. She thought she was in the Devil Wears Prada or something and that being mean to your assistants is terribly glamorous, but we knew that we were actually in a scummy daily newspaper office in West London and that people who are mean to their assistants are bitches who will rot in hell.

The editor's girls didn't usually last. They all had office affairs eventually, which then went sour, then they went on sick leave, then never came back. But Connie, or "Beautiful Connie" as she quickly became known, was different. She was smart. She couldn't have been less interested in the skinny boys on news or any of the fast-talking, grizzled and jowly back bench. Her boyfriends were always incredibly tall mega-Sloanes that she'd known she was six, who thought journalists were dismal little people. Yet there was a steely glint in her sleepy brown eyes and a taut resiliance in her long, long blonde hair and perky tiny-flower-patterned mini dresses.

The editor had finally met her match.

She was my best - and, sometimes, only - friend at the Standard. I would often poke my head into the editor's office, where she sat drinking pot after pot of fresh ginger tea that was so strong that when you drank it, it felt like your whole face was on fire and she would shriek, quietly: "ESTHER!! Oh my god I've just eaten an entire Bounty and TWO packets of Maltesers!!!"


I have been thinking about Connie recently because I came across a recipe for a mango salsa, which she used to make for me in the weeny galley kitchen of her top floor flat in Notting Hill. Roasting in summer and freezing in winter, ("I think another bad January might finish me off"),  Connie's flat was a miracle of survival, like those plants you get in the desert, or 100,000 miles under the sea.

Anyway she almost always has the ingredients in her kitchen for this spicy mango salsa, and it's quite, quite delicious. My husband and I had this with a very rich jerk pork belly, which didn't work at all, it was too rick and gacky and yuk. It would be very good instead with some plain steak, or a tuna steak (although these days one cannot really eat such things) or a plain white fish like turbot or pollock.

Makes enough for 2-3

1 mango - diced
juice of 1 lime
small handful coriander
a sprinkling of fresh mint
1 chilli - no seeds - chopped finely
1 avocado, diced
salt

1 Put everything in a bowl and mix

Pork-Fried Quinoa – Oh Say Can You Seed?

Finally, after only five or six hundred requests, we’re posting a quinoa recipe! People love eating this “super food” for all the obvious nutritional reasons, but based on the emails I’ve received, they’re constantly searching for new and delicious ways to use it.

Well, this was so tasty, so fast, and so easy, I’ll be shocked if it doesn’t make it into the regular rotation. And don’t think for a minute that we’ve simply overwhelmed the quinoa with a bunch of high-calorie, unhealthy ingredients, because that’s not the case. Not that I’m above such culinary shenanigans; but it just wasn’t necessary.

I was really surprised how decadent and satisfying this seemed, and with only a tablespoon of vegetable oil, and a handful of very lean smoked ham. These tiny quinoa seeds (that’s right, now you can sound like a d-bag correcting your foodie friends at cocktail parties who call this a “grain”) really are sponges for flavor. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I can’t wait to experiment with other quinoa creations.

By the way, if you’re an experienced quinoa cooker, and have any great tips, please pass them along. I’m not sure how this would work with the other varieties/colors of quinoa. I assume it would, but have never used them. I also used less water than the directions call for, but wanted the seeds to be a little “al dente,” which seemed to work well here.

Anyway, whether you’re an experienced quinoaista or a newbie like me, I hope you give this delicious pork-fried quinoa a try soon. Enjoy!

Ingredients for 2 large or 4 small servings:

1 cup quinoa

salt to taste

1 1/2 cups cold water

1 tbsp vegetable oil

1 cup diced smoked ham

1/2 cup diced peppers

1/2 cup sliced green onions

3 cloves garlic minced

1 tbsp seasoned rice vinegar

1 or 2 tbsp soy sauce, or to taste

Sriracha, or any hot sauce to taste

toasted sesame seeds to taste

Bonus Quinoa Esoterica:

When my friend Tamar, from the always entertaining blog Starving Off the Land, heard I was doing a quinoa post, she sent me this photo. At first glace, this looks like some new variety of grey quinoa, but they're actually tiny oysters! Tamar farms oysters on Cape Cod, and you're looking at roughly 50,000 baby bivalves. Simply amazing. Thanks, Tamar!

 

Orange Pistachio Greenies – They Only Sound Like Pet Snacks and Speed

Calling a brownie made with pistachios a “greenie” seemed like a perfectly sensible thing to do, until I realized that was also the name of a popular brand of pet treats, as well as the street name for amphetamines.

Most chefs, not wanting their recipe associated with such unsavoriness would have changed the name, but not me. I’m hoping that these become so popular that eventually the pet people and druggies will be forced to change their names instead. We shall see.

Anyway, as I exclaimed in the video, these were great, but some dark chocolate chips really would have put this over the top. I’m adding a half-cup of mini chips to the recipe ingredients below, and I highly recommend you do as I say, not as I did.

I’m generally pretty mellow (unless I’m on greenies) about substituting ingredients in my recipes, but I can’t think of another nut that would work here instead of the pistachio. There's something about the relationship between orange and pistachio that’s just so much more intimate than other nut/citrus combinations.

The good news is, thanks to mass-marketing and large grocery stores, shelled pistachios are now widely available at a very decent price. Buy a few extra, since snacking on them while you make these is virtually impossible not to do. They’re really addictive…like greenies, and greenies. I hope you give these a try soon. Enjoy!

Ingredients for 9 Orange Pistachio Greenies:

Wet ingredients:

1/2 cup melted butter

2 tbsp grated orange zest

1/2 cup white sugar

2 eggs

1 tbsp orange juice

1 tbsp milk

1/4 tsp vanilla extract

Dry ingredients:

2 cups shelled, dry-roasted pistachios (*note: mine were lightly salted, so if yours are not salted or heavily salted, please adjust the added salt in the recipe)

1/2 to 1 tsp salt to taste

1/2 tsp baking powder

1/2 cup flour
1/2 cup dark chocolate chips (add when you combine dry into wet ingredients) 

*Bake at 350 for about 20-25 minutes
For the glaze:
1 or 2 tbsp orange juice
2 tsp orange zest
enough powdered sugar to thicken

White Gazpacho! I Eat This All the Time…Like Every 20 Years

A very, very long time ago, I had a white gazpacho. It was ice cold, very tasty, and super refreshing. It was similar to a classic gazpacho, but with no tomato and peppers. It was so unusually delicious that it really made an impression.

It had a cucumber base, was garnished with almonds and grapes, and was so good, I told myself to get the recipe and put it into regular summer rotation. That was probably 20 years ago, and I haven’t had it since. Totally spaced. 

Anyway, last week I came across this on Grubstreet, and it all came back to me. I knew I must try this soup! I’ve adapted the Dovetail’s versionslightly, but it’s one of those very personal recipes that you’ll want to adjust to your tastes.

Tweaking the amounts of salt, vinegar, and sweetness from the grapes will easily alter the final product, so experimentation is a must! The same goes for the texture. Add a bit more or less water depending on your dream viscosity.

The ice cube trick is optional, but really does keep the soup nicely chilled. The temperature is so critical here – you can’t serve this too cold. By the way, the dill oil I drip on the top was nothing more than a few tablespoons of vegetable oil mashed with some fresh dill with a mortar and pestle.

So, the next time you’re looking for a cool first course for that next great garden party, I hope you give this a try. You’ll love it so much, I’m sure you’ll make it all the time! ;) Enjoy!

Ingredients for 6 small servings:

1 tbsp olive oil 

1 cup whites part of leeks, washed, chopped

salt and pepper to taste

2 English cucumbers, peeled

8-10 green grapes

1/4 cup slivered almonds

1 tbsp olive oil

1/3 cup crème fraiche, sour cream or plain yogurt

1 generous cup fresh bread cubes

2 tbsp sherry vinegar, or to taste

1 tsp salt, plus more to taste

cayenne to taste

1 1/2 cups cold water, more if needed

dill oil and/or fresh dill leaves

Chicken Spiedies – Is Binghamton’s Best America’s Next Big Sandwich Trend?

If it isn’t, it should be! This incredibly delicious sandwich, invented in central New York by an Italian immigrant named Camillo Iacovelli, breaks all the accepted rules regarding marinating meats, and not only does it work, it’s amazing!

You’ve heard me say on many occasions to be careful when soaking chicken in an acid marinade.  Usually an hour or two is the maximum I recommend, otherwise the meat will actually “cook” in the liquid, much like fish in a ceviche. Here, that’s exactly the idea.

You could almost call this twiced-cooked chicken, except that the food nerds would come out of the woodwork to remind us the meat doesn’t “cook” in the marinade, it becomes “denatured.” Whatever, nerds. All I know is when you grill that "over-marinaded" chicken over a hot, charcoal fire, some serious magic happens.

The term "spiedie" (SPEE-dee) comes from “spiedo,” the Italian word for spit, and simply refers to meat grilled on a skewer. The original protein was lamb, which explains all the mint and garlic in the marinade, which Iacovelli called, “zuzu.”

As I hope you find out, “zuzu” is also wonderful with chicken, and there are hundreds of credible reports of it being fantastic on pork, beef, and venison also. Yes, one taste and I think you’ll understand why this is so incredibly popular in and around Binghamton, NY.

The only mystery is why hasn’t this spread across the country? Seems like a natural. It’s got a great back story, catchy name, lots of room for local adaptations, and a marinade called “zuzu.” Come on, what more do you need? Anyway, every new sandwich trend begins with a single bun, or something like that, so I hope you give this a try soon. Enjoy!

Ingredients for about 6 skewers:

3 pounds boneless skinless chicken thighs (or any boneless meat!)

1/2 cup olive oil

1/4 cup freshly-squeezed lemon juice

3/4 cup wine wine vinegar

1 rounded tablespoon sugar

6-8 cloves garlic

1/2 teaspoon red pepper flakes

1 teaspoon dried oregano

1 teaspoon dried basil

1 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

1/2 cup picked mint leaves

Braised Beluga Lentils – Black Ops and the Caviar of Beans

Braised black lentils, also known as Beluga lentils, since they resemble the most prized of all caviar varieties, is one of my favorite side dishes. That alone would have ensured an eventual appearance on this blog, but it was the suspiciously large number of recent requests that were responsible for today’s post.

I love a good conspiracy theory, so I’m assuming there was some kind of funny business going on…I mean, this could have been the work of some shady international consortium. Was “Big Lentil” responsible? They usually say, “follow the money” in these situations, but I’m not sure how to do that, so I’ll just move on.

This recipe is very straightforward, and as I say, when the lentils are tender, you are done. You’ll need to keep any eye on things after the 25-minute mark, adding a splash of stock if needed. It’s always easier to add than reduce, so don’t be afraid to adjust as you go. Also, be sure to add enough salt. Under-seasoned beans are bad beans. 

One thing I forgot to mention, you might want to pour the cup of lentils on to a plate to check for little rocks. Nothing ruins a great lentil eating experience more than shattering a molar, so it’s worth the two minutes to check. Other than that, not much can go wrong.

By the way, if all the requests for this recipe were the work of some clandestine organization, well, you got what you asked for…now, please leave me alone. I hope you give these a try soon. Enjoy!

Ingredients for 2 large portions:
1 tbsp olive oil

1 tbsp butter

1/2 cup diced onion

1/2 cup diced carrot

1/2 cup diced celery

6 springs fresh thyme

salt and pepper to taste

1 cup black lentils

1 3/4 – 2 cups chicken stock, more as needed
1 tbsp champagne vinegar, or to taste

2 tbsp chopped Italian parsley