The Kitchen Diaries

a nutmeg

full-cream milk or cream – 200ml

To serve:

spaghetti or tagliatelle for 4

grated Parmesan

Melt the butter in a heavy-based pan – I use a cast-iron one about 24cm in diameter – then stir in the pancetta and let it cook for five minutes or so, without colouring much. Meanwhile peel and finely chop the onion and garlic and stir them into the pancetta. Scrub and finely chop the carrot and celery and stir them in, too. Lastly, finely chop the mushrooms and add to the pan, then tuck in the bay leaves and leave to cook for ten minutes over a moderate heat, stirring frequently.

Turn up the heat and tip in the meat, breaking it up well with a fork. Now leave to cook without stirring for a good three or four minutes, then, as the meat on the bottom is starting to brown, stir again, breaking up the meat where necessary, and leave to colour.

Mix in the tomatoes, red wine, stock, a grating of nutmeg and some salt and black pepper, letting it come to the boil. Turn the heat down so that everything barely bubbles. There should be movement, but one that is gentle, not quite a simmer. Partially cover the pan with a lid and leave to putter away for an hour to an hour and a half, stirring from time to time and checking the liquid levels. You don’t want it to be dry.

Pour in the milk or cream a bit at a time, stir and continue cooking for twenty minutes. Check the seasoning, then serve with the pasta and grated Parmesan.

Enough for 4

January 19

Sometimes I make my own chicken stock and sometimes I buy it ready-made. Today I take the lazy route, picking up a large tub from the butcher’s, idle, good-for-nothing guy that I am. The outcome is another ten-minute supper, which turns out to be more appreciated than any supermarket cook-chill dinner, at once warming (the broth), uplifting (lemon, mint) and satisfying (the noodles).

Chicken broth with noodles, lemon and mint

dried egg noodles – 50g

very good chicken broth – 1 litre

cooked chicken (leftover roast is fine) – 200g

chopped mint leaves – 2 heaped tablespoons

roughly chopped coriander leaves – 2 heaped tablespoons

the juice of a lemon

Drop the noodles into a deep pan of boiling, salted water and cook for two to three minutes, until tender. Drain them, rinse under cold running water, then leave to cool in a bowl of cold water until you need them.

Bring the chicken broth to the boil, then turn the heat down to a simmer. Shred the chicken with a sharp knife and add it to the simmering broth with the mint, coriander and lemon juice. Add the noodles, leave for one minute, then serve steaming hot in big bowls.

Enough for 2 as a main dish

January 21

A cheap fish

supper

I sometimes feel as if I am on a one-man mission to make the world eat more mackerel. This recipe, spiced with smoked paprika and rings of soft, golden onions, is one of the best I have come up with for this underrated fish. I am not sure you need anything more with it than some steamed spinach or spinach salad.

Spiced crumbed mackerel with smoked paprika

mackerel – 4, filleted

onion – 1 medium to large

olive oil

parsley – a handful

garlic – 3 small cloves

smoked ‘hot’ paprika – half a teaspoon

fresh breadcrumbs – 100g

a lemon

Rinse and dry the mackerel fillets and lay them skin-side down in a lightly oiled dish. Season them lightly with salt and pepper. Set the oven at 180°C/Gas 4.

Peel the onion and slice it into very thin rings, then let it cook over a moderate heat in a couple of tablespoons of olive oil until it starts to soften. Chop the parsley, not too finely, then peel and crush the garlic and stir into the onion with the paprika, a seasoning of black pepper and salt and the breadcrumbs. Pour in three tablespoons of olive oil.

Spoon the spiced breadcrumbs evenly over the fish and bake for twenty minutes. It is ready when the crumbs are golden and the fish is opaque and tender. Lift on to plates using a fish slice, then squeeze the lemon over each one.

Enough for 4

January 25

A herb

butter for

grilled

chops

I make a quick herb butter with equal amounts of blue cheese and butter (I use 100g of each), mashed with a tablespoon each of thyme leaves and Dijon mustard, then stir in a couple of tablespoons of double cream and a grinding of black pepper. It sits in the fridge till supper, when I lay thick slices of it on grilled pork steaks. The cheese butter melts over the charred edges of the chops, making an impromptu sauce to mop up with craggy lumps of sourdough bread.

No matter how beautiful its carmine and orange stalks, the sight of a bunch of chard in my organic bag always makes my heart sink. This is unfair. It’s a useful vegetable, with lush, heavily veined green leaves and enough colour to liven up even the greyest of winter days.

You can cook chard in a modicum of water, like spinach; it needs just enough to cover the stalks. I then drain it while the colours are still bright, say after six minutes or so, and drizzle it with olive oil, squeeze over masses of lemon juice and toss in a few green or black olives.

January 27

Cauliflower is something I can live without, but it surprises me today in a salad, lightly cooked, then drained and tossed with warmed canned chickpeas, plenty of lemon juice, good olive oil and coriander leaves. The crisp florets get a scattering of sesame seeds and a few stoned green olives. A pile of warm pitta bread finishes it off. Clean, lemony and fresh, this might prove a sound way to win other cauliflower haters round.

January 28