The Vicar’s Wife’s Cook Book

wholegrain mustard, to taste (I suggest 2 heaped teaspoons, but taste it to see if it needs more)

Peel the potatoes and cut them into medium-sized chunks. Put them in a large pan of well salted boiling water and cook for about 20–25 minutes or until soft. Meanwhile, heat the other ingredients together in another pan, or in a bowl in the microwave.

When the potatoes are ready, drain them well, wait until the steam dies down and add them to the other pan or bowl. Mash them into the artery-clogging buttery cream and beat it all together with an electric whisk. You can either do this so it’s ready when you are ready to serve, or do it earlier and reheat it in the microwave or in a bowl over a pan of simmering water when you need it.

Roasted Carrots with Thyme (#ulink_bd942d2a-04a9-5da0-9e98-77449103ad25)

4 large carrots

knob of butter

6 stalks of thyme

salt and pepper

Scrub the carrots and slice them thickly in a diagonal fashion. Pop them in a pan of boiling water and parboil for 5 minutes. Meanwhile, put the butter and thyme leaves into a small roasting tin and slide it into the oven. When the butter has melted, remove, add the carrots, season well and toss everything together. Roast them below the pork for at least 45 minutes of its cooking time.

White Cabbage, Leek and Fennel Cooked in Garlicky White Wine (#ulink_640897f7-1f7c-5257-bedb-3864aee319fc)

⁄

of a white cabbage

1 bulb of fennel

2 leeks, cleaned

120ml white wine

1 garlic clove, peeled and crushed

salt and pepper

Finely slice the white cabbage, fennel and the leeks. Pop the lot in a large pan with white wine and crushed garlic clove. Add some seasoning and let it cook down for about 10 minutes. That’s it.

Summer Fruit Charlotte and Clotted Cream (#ulink_99fcaf76-c9bb-58d8-a3d1-b0381f360135)

This is a summer pudding for a British spring day. In fact, it’s far nicer than genuine summer pudding, which I personally find a bit damp and soggy. Here, the bread adds a crispy contrast to the slushy summer fruits. I served it with clotted cream to give a nod towards real, sunny summer and the delights of cream teas. The father-in-law, ungrateful so-and-so that he is, said that, ‘for his part’ pouring cream would have been preferable. As the old blighter was already on his third portion by this point, his wife chastised him for his criticism and the Vicar merely begged to differ.

approx. 7 slices of white bread, cut about 1.5cm thick, crusts removed

125g butter, 50g melted and the rest at room temperature

250g raspberries

150g blueberries

150g blackberries

3 tablespoons caster sugar, according to taste, plus extra for dusting (optional)

clotted cream, to serve

You’ll need either an 850ml pudding basin or a souffle dish.

Whilst I prepared the fruit, I got the men on to the bread bit. Before I could stop them they had sliced nearly a whole loaf – some of it extremely badly. However, they made up for it by coming up with the idea of only applying melted butter to one side of the bread and smearing the other 50g of the fresh stuff on the other. The bread has to line the dish, and they decided that freshly spread butter made an ideal glue to stick it to the sides. They were right.

For the fruit: in a pan, lightly cook the berries with the sugar and the remaining 25g of softened butter over a medium heat for about 3–4 minutes. You want the fruit to soften very slightly but still retain its shape. Leave to cool if possible (I didn’t have time).

Line the dish with about 5 slices of the buttery bread, overlapping them slightly and leaving no gaps, then pour in the fruit. Seal the top with the remaining bread by trimming and pushing it inside the edge of the upright bread; put a saucer on it and a bag of sugar, or something else quite heavy. After 30 minutes, take off the bag of sugar, leaving on the saucer, and put the dish in an oven preheated to 200°C/Gas Mark 6 for 30 minutes. After this time, remove the saucer with an oven glove and put the pudding back in for a final 5–10 minutes or until golden on top. Leave to rest for 10 minutes.

To serve, you could invert the pudding onto a plate if you want to look fancy, or serve it straight from the bowl or dish, cut into slices. Serve with cream (the pouring stuff, if John Beynon is a guest) and a little dusting of caster sugar, if you wish.

A spring lamb for friends

Some locals over today. It’s the end of May – my favourite month of the year – and time for some lovely lamb and a Sunday lunch without the merest whiff of roast potatoes, vegetables and gravy. Much as I adore all that, come a dash of sun, a roast lamb dinner for friends needs to have a relaxed, Mediterranean or Middle Eastern twist. That means lots of herbs, lots of bright colours, and bags of flavour.

In this recipe the lamb is marinated overnight so that it is infused with a herby, lemony freshness that’s set off by the warmth of cumin. The quinoa salad is a riot of colour, texture and taste, while the vegetables provide crunch and a salad, with its balsamic dressing, adds a touch of sweetness.

LEG OF LAMB WITH CUMIN, LEMON AND MINT (#ulink_b5fb7ac0-3bbb-56a7-b2e9-8c486609b1f3)

HOUMOUS DRESSING (#ulink_a0c79ff0-17b7-534b-9649-5042bd992eaf)

ROASTED FENNEL AND LEEKS (#ulink_a3879347-a1af-55e0-8c80-4dc0a91653e5)

TRAFFIC-LIGHT QUINOA (#ulink_a08b68e3-8ddf-524a-9ba6-bce9d796a9df)

SPINACH SALAD (#ulink_8894ff01-a7ff-557e-bea8-91d3e47476b9)

KING OF PUDDINGS (#ulink_564dc62d-4a12-5c28-8c5a-729dfba31eb1)

Leg of Lamb with Cumin, Lemon and Mint (#ulink_a3f797dc-fcb9-5f07-a8be-cdd5d8ae030d)

The meat needs to be at room temperature before it goes in the oven. For a churchgoer like me, this means taking the beast out of the fridge before I leave. I either put it somewhere safe, away from the cat, and do all the cooking bit when I get home; or I set the timer on my oven to come on when I’m out. With this lamb, I put it in after church time.

To be honest, I find the timing a bit tricky. In my oven, meat only takes the time cookery books tell you it will take if you sear it before it goes in, otherwise I have to add extra time. (Incidentally, I am a great believer in the whole searing thing. I know it seems nonsensical to stick the roast on the hob and brown it just before it’s going to have a jolly old time in the oven, but it really does help it to get a fabulous crust and seal in the flavours.) However, what with the marinade and bits of mint sticking out everywhere, I chose not to do it on this occasion. It was all smelling pretty great and I was feeling quietly confident, smug even, as I took the lamb out of the oven at the end of its cooking time. I felt sure it would be perfection on legs – or on one, at least. However, as we cut it up, the middle of it was, quite frankly, raw. To avoid pure vampire-like blood consumption, those bits had to go back in the oven as seconds beckoned.

1 leg of lamb (mine was 1.15kg)

4 teaspoons cumin seeds, crushed

2 garlic cloves, peeled and crushed

3 tablespoons lemon oil

juice of ½ lemon

1 tablespoon fresh mint, chopped