January is universally acknowledged as the month of detox. Gyms burst at the seams with enthusiastic new joiners determined to stick to their new year’s resolution… this time. Community centres across the country swell with the weight of weight watchers. Just yesterday, in search of a healthy sushi lunch, I was turned away from Yo Sushi due to an inordinately long queue. Call it what you will. Detoxing. Dieting. Getting fit. Yes, everyone’s at it folks. And I’m afraid I’m including myself in that number. For me, however, it’s slightly more epic. You see, I have done absolutely no exercise in the nigh-on nine months since Finn was born. Combine this with the fact that I seem to have continued to eat as if I’m feeding two, you have one mighty miss feedetgastro. Something needs to be done. And fast.

To that end, I have booked myself on this and thrown out my delicious hoards of pasta, chocolate, cheese, pate, bread (etc etc) and restocked with horrendous sounding things such as quinoa, rye bread, skimmed milk (horrors of horrors). Just as I was about to sink into the obligatory January depression that accompanies this new “healthy living”, I had this lovely idea for a dish and it was so delicious it right perked me up. Even Sven liked it, and we all know he’s a curmudgeon when it comes to fish and anything virtuous.

Oven-Steamed Asian Sea Bass

Serves 2

• 6 kaffir lime leaves
• 1 clove of garlic, finely sliced
• 1–2 red chillies (depending how spicy you like things), seeded and chopped
• a small piece of fresh ginger, roughly chopped
• a handful of coriander stalks (use the leaves to garnish, and in your cucumber salad/rice if you’re serving with these)
• 1 tablespoon dark soy sauce
• 1 lime
• 2 fillets of sea bass
• a dash of fish sauce
• a dash of mirin (rice wine)

Preheat the oven to 220°C.

In a pestle and mortar, give the lime leaves a good bashing until they break down and the lovely aroma starts to come out. Then add the garlic, chilli, chopped ginger and coriander stalks and continue to bash until the mixture is smashed to a pulp. Mix in the soy sauce and the zest and juice of the lime, then check the balance of flavours and adjust as you see fit.

Lightly score the sea bass on the skin side with a sharp knife and then rub the marinade all over. Leave to marinate for an hour or so.Get a nice big bit of foil and lay it in a small baking tray. Put the portions of sea bass, skin-side up in the middle. Pour the marinade and all the juice over the sea bass then add a few splashes of fish sauce and rice wine, then fold up the edges of the foil really securely. Then fold over the top of the foil a couple of times – you should end up with something that resembles a tent. Don’t fold the foil right up to the edge of the fish, you want lots of space round the fillets to let the steam circulate.

Cook in the preheated oven for around 12-15 minutes. The fish is cooked when the skin just peels away easily. Open the foil and gently lift the fish out. Spoon the marinade over.

I served my fish with an Asian cucumber salad and coriander brown rice. Briefly, to make the cucumber salad I sliced the cucumber into ribbons (using a cheese slice) then made a quick dressing of soy sauce, fish sauce, lime juice, chopped coriander, chilli and garlic. I then mixed this with the cucumber ribbons. Also, once I served the cucumber salad, I used the dressing left in the bowl to dress the brown rice, which I also mixed with lots of coriander. Delicious and healthy.

Now that I’m a sleep-deprived-up-at-dawn-don’t-stop-all-day-collapse-at-nine-member-of-the-buggy-brigade I don’t often have the energy to haul my arse up to London on an evening out, but when I received an invitation to Green & Black’s Christmas Supperclub, I knew I had to dust off my glad-rags and get myself there. For one, it’s Green & Black’s and the thought did occur to me that every course might be wholly made up of chocolate (an idea that made my inner child whoop and squeal with delight). Secondly, Green & Black’s events have in the past been fantastic (remember the 15:15 challenge?) and I definitely didn’t want to miss out on another great evening.

Well, straight off the bat, let me say, G&B’s definitely didn’t disappoint. They more than lived up to the previous evening of fun and frivolity, but this time offered sophistication and gastronomic delight. With aromas of Christmas and the beautiful sounds of a string duet mingling in the air, the evening started with Micah’s favourite champagne served with beautiful canapes of white chocolate discs topped with the most amazing caviar and little toasts with dark chocolate and sea salt. Along with the little glimpses of the adjacent dining room, these really whetted my appetite for what was to come. Once we had devoured all the canapes and perhaps a little too much of the champagne, the doors were flung open to reveal a beautiful long candlelit table which just looked the picture of Christmas (which was somewhat wrong in October, but got me all excited and festive all the same).

Upon finding my seat and discovering that I was sat next to the lovely MiMi (score!), I took my first look at the menu. Four courses of G&B’s chocolate inspired food created by their head of taste, Micah Carr-Hill. This was going to be good. However, the first course I was immediately somewhat apprehensive about. Inspired by Dark 85% Chocolate, it was simply described as Marmite Broth. Ack. I’m a massive “hate” person, to the point that if Sven has had even one twiglet within 5 hours, I can smell it on his breath and he is banished to a minimum distance of 3 feet. I can’t even open the jar to spread it on toast if I’m making toast for someone. Too too yucky. But when it came out looking pretty damn fine…

…I thought I better give it a go. And to be fair to Marmite, it was AMAZING. The dark chocolate dust around the rim melted as you sipped the broth (that’s if you could stop yourself from licking it off *cough* MiMi *cough*) creating a depth of flavour to the incredibly light broth that was simply stunning (for Marmite broth you understand). I liked it alot, which is nothing short of a miracle. I take my hat off to Micah for that one.

Next up, and inspired by G&B’s Hazelnut and G&B’s Almond bars, was Roasted Quail, Puy Lentils and Romesco sauce. Romesco is a vivid red Spanish sauce made with Hazelnuts and Almonds and red peppers. It went beautifully with the quail, and puy lentils are always a hit with me, especially when the winter months set it. Sadly my quail was ever so slightly overdone, but considering all 30 plates of quail were set down at almost the same moment I’m not surprised.

Before the cheeses, we were served an amuse bouche of creamy milk chocolate with salted potato powder. Before we tried them I joked that it looked like Smash, and funnily enough they did in fact have a “smashiness” about them. In a good way. In a very good way.

The cheeses were served with pickled sour cherries, inspired by G&B’s Cherry bar, and alongside Eccles cakes, inspired by their Hazelnut and Currant bar. The selection of cheeses (Comte, Stichelton, Kirkham’s Lancashire, & Ragstone) was excellent and I loved the pickled cherries.

But the Eccles cakes really were the star. Christmassy and delicious.

The final course was the dessert, inspired by G&B’s Milk, G&B’s Butterscotch, and G&B’s Ginger bars. Being a Green & Black’s event, I was looking forward to the dessert and had really high expectations. When the Rum and Raisin milk chocolate semi freddo (with caramalised gingercake crumbs) was put down in front of me, I instantly starting salivating despite the previous courses I had already heartily devoured. This, without a shadow of a doubt, was THE dish of the day. It was phenomenal, and apparently it’s included in Green & Black’s Cookbook, which (presuming you can recreate the splendour) is reason enough to buy it – believe me.

And with that the Green & Black’s Christmas supper club was over. I loved the incorporation of the different G&B’s flavour profiles into each course, which really gave the meal an interesting edge. And as luck would have it, as part of their Christmas gift range, Green & Black’s are giving you the power to do the same.

The Green & Black’s Tasting Collection (395g; RRP £10.99) contains twelve miniature bars of G&B’s signature flavours as well as tasting note cards which give recipe suggestions for both food and drinks, as well fantastic ideas for flavour combinations. It also includes a map showing the origins of the different ingredients that G&B’s source from around the world (nb. MiMi and I were sitting next to the chap whose job it is to check all the ingredients for defects and who basically travels around the world to each of the suppliers to taste the produce. JEALOUS).

For true G&B’s nuts, for whom 395g would simply not be enough grammage to satisfy their insatiable passion for chocolate, there is the Ultimate Collection (580g; RRP £14.99), which is basically a big box of bars in a variety of sizes and flavours, including the new Dark Hazelnut flavour. Oh err.

Planning a party with people you don’t know or have nothing in common with? Then why not purchase G&B’s “Conversations” collection (180g; RRP £5.49; also available in mint flavour)? Each box contains individually wrapped G&B’s chocs with “fun, conversation-sparking questions” printed on the wrapper, taking the hassle out of awkward party conversation.

And finally, always a perfect stocking filler the 12 miniature bar range has been extended to include a new Dark Collection (180g; RRP £5.49; also available in Classic and Milk selections).

Thanks to Green & Blacks for hosting such a wonderful event, and to the gals at 360 for inviting me. Thanks also to Micah and William for cooking up such a feast.

I think by now my regular readers will have gathered that I’m a complete and utter Italiaphile. I love the country, the people (my grandma being one of them), and most of all the food. Despite it’s no doubt devastating effect on my (ever-growing) waistline, I have pasta two or three times a week and, as with most people I’m sure, I have my favourites that never fail to delight and satisfy in equal measure. Most are ready within 20 minutes – surely one of the major perks of pasta – and all are delicious.

No 1 on the list is Spaghetti alla Puttanesca which combines all my very favourite tastes of Italy: olives, capers, tomatoes, anchovies, and garlic. You can’t really go wrong with that line up, can you? As with most Italian dishes the flavours are simple, but the secret is getting the best possible quality ingredients. I use Kalamata olives, salted capers, the best quality Italian tinned tomatoes I can find, and De Cecco Spaghetti. Nothing that will break the bank, but just using these slightly more expensive ingredients makes such a big difference, I promise you.

Spaghetti alla Puttanesca

For two hungry people

• 2 fat garlic cloves, finely sliced
• 3 anchovy fillets, roughly chopped
• dried oregano
• 1 dried chilli
• 2 tbsp salted capers, rinsed and chopped
• a good handful of black olives, torn or chopped in half
• a bunch of parsley, roughly chopped
• 1x 400g can of chopped tomatoes
• 200g De Cecco spaghetti
• Salt & pepper
• extra virgin olive oil
• lemon.

Heat a generous glug of olive oil in a heavy bottomed frying pan, then reduce the heat and add the sliced garlic. Once the garlic has softened (being careful not to let it brown), add the anchovies, a good sprinkling of oregano and crumble in the dried chilli. Cook just for a minute or so, until the anchovies melt into the oil.

Add half of each of the chopped capers, olives and parsley, then stir in the chopped tomatoes. Bring to the boil, then reduce the heat and simmer until the sauce has a nice thick consistency. This will probably take 15 minutes – enough time to get your spaghetti on (make sure it’s al dente).

Once the sauce has thickened, check the seasoning. It shouldn’t really need too much salt because the capers, olives and anchovies are all quite salty. Drain your pasta, reserving a little of the cooking water. Add the remaining capers, olives and parsley to your sauce, before stirring in the drained pasta. Add a tablespoon or so of the pasta water to loosen the sauce and give it a nice silky texture. Give the pasta a really good mix with the sauce to make sure the good bits (olives, capers, etc) are evenly distributed. Then finish with a little squeeze of lemon juice and a drizzle of olive oil.

Serve.

I don’t know about you, but for me the idea of being a mum has always been synonymous with images of angelic flour-splattered children standing on chairs in the kitchen next to an apron-clad serene-looking woman, joyfully stirring cake mixture before licking the spoon. Well, Finn is too young to help out at the moment and I am anything but serene, but I’ve been working on getting my bake-on. For me, mum’s bake. And to date, I’ve been a miserable failure on that front. So, time to rectify…

Now that I’m home rather a lot, I find that sometimes (read: often) I like to have some treats to nibble on, or to serve to droppers-in along with their coffee. My favourite offering at the moment are these Dark Chocolate and Blackberry muffins. They are deeee-licious and you can whip them up in no time at all, and happily, even I seem unable to mess them up – and I have even been known to shake up my own buttermilk when I can’t be arsed to go and pick some up (with a delightful side-product of your own butter – wickedy).

To make your own buttermilk, simply shake double cream in a jar for about 10 minutes. Builds good armstrongs too!

Dark Chocolate and Blackberry Muffins

Makes 12 muffins

• 300g plain flour
• 2 tsp baking powder
• 100g caster sugar
• 100g dark chocolate, broken up into small bits (I just roughly chop mine with a sharp knife)
• 2 eggs, lightly beaten
• 250ml buttermilk
• 1 tsp vanilla extract
• 100g butter, melted
• 150g punnet blackberries

Preheat your oven to 180°C. Line a muffin tray with paper cases. I made my cases by cutting out 5″ squares of baking parchment. I then scrunched them up, then unscrunched them and put them in the muffin tray. They give the muffins a coffee-house look.

Sift the flour and baking powder into a large bowl, then add the caster sugar and chocolate bits. Stir until well combined.

Whisk your eggs, buttermilk, vanilla extract and melted butter together in a separate bowl. Then, using a large metal spoon, stir the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients until just combined. Don’t over-mix as this will make your muffins dense. Finally gently swirl through your blackberries.

Spoon the mixture into your muffin cases and bake for 25 to 30 minutes. They’re done when a toothpick comes out clean. Leave to cool in the tray for five minutes or so, then turn out onto a wire rack.

They are best devoured as soon as they are cool enough to eat.

Forgive me blogosphere for I have sinned. It has been over 3 months since my last post. My poor blog has been shockingly neglected and bereft of attention, but you see I’ve been rather busy. Since we last spoke I made this. “This” is Finn. He is 12 weeks and 5 days old. He takes up a LOT of time.

The first hurdle I had to overcome was actually getting him out of my body. That little task took 4 days. 4 days, I tell thee. No one tells you before you get pregnant that this is a possibility, but it is. And it sucks. Eventually (after 4 days), we all gave up and I had to have a c-section. I wish I had just had it at the start. 4 bloody days. Anyway, when he eventually came out (the wrong way), he was magic. Did I mention it took 4 days?

The first few weeks consisted of feeding, changing and sleeping… and not much else. My job was to look after the baby. Sven’s job was to look after me. We survived on a diet of takeaway, beans on toast, pizza, and anything else that Sven could rustle up with his limited prowess in the kitchen. I’m not complaining – I could have done no better at the time. If I wasn’t feeding or sleeping then I was pretty much just gazing in wonderment at this thing that we had made. This sadly left little time for blogging.

Over the next few weeks I began to re-enter the real world, gradually stepping out of the house (once I could finally walk again – ouchy), putting on make-up (a minor miracle), and little by little getting into the kitchen again. However, when you seem to spend about 60% of your time doing this…

…it’s difficult to make anything worth writing about. Pasta, one-pot-wonders and anything I could put in the oven and leave there without ruining when “ready in 20 mins” turned into an hour. Babies have little respect for dinnertime – a fact I’m still struggling with. However, I’m very happy to say that at last Finn is settling into some semblance of a routine and life seems to be returning, if not quite to normal then to some new kind of normality and I feel like I *might* manage to cook and write again. It may not be often, and it often may not be good, but I will endeavour, my friends…

In the meantime, here are some pics of my little bambino. A pretty distraction, no?

ps. If you follow me on twitter, apologies for the constant photos, but come on… he’s too goddam cute.

I have literally dozens of cookbooks, and their usual fate is to sit forlornly on the shelf only to be taken down and flicked through once or twice a year when I’m really stuck for an idea (though this should not be revealed to my husband who already suspects this to be the case and is beginning to forbid me to buy any more – horror). There are however a few exceptions; books that are dog-eared and food splattered from constant and varied use. These books are as indispensable to me as my Le Creuset casserole or my favourite knife. And I have a sneaking suspicion that British Seasonal Food by Mark Hix is going to become one of these oft-opened books, always at hand to provide me with some interesting and more importantly seasonal inspiration. In the mere weeks it has been on my shelf it has already been taken down, and even cooked out of, way over its allotted number of times.

Former GQ chef of the year, Mark Hix has three renowned London restaurants, including Hix Oyster & Chop House in Smithfield Market, as well as a fourth restaurant high on my hit-list in Lyme Regis, Dorset. He has long been a champion of British produce and recipes, even before it became fashionable to do so. Who could forget for example his amazing stargazy rabbit and crayfish pie on Great British Menu a few years ago (a recipe for which is included in the book)? So, this book (newly released in paperback) is a collection that he obviously feels passionately about. Personally, the more I write this blog, the more I feel compelled to think seasonally about food. It’s so easy to cook with any ingredients these days because our supermarkets stock fruit and vegetables year-round. But part of the pleasure of cooking is to wait and enjoy a certain ingredient when it’s at its very best. There is something exciting and almost joyful about the first rhubarb or English asparagus coming through – a joy that we are in danger of losing!

So, when I saw this book I was really excited on a personal level to be encouraged to think a bit more seasonally about the dishes I put on my table. With a chapter for each month, Hix focuses on a small selection of home-grown ingredients that are at their best during that month, providing a few recipes for each from the simple through to the more complex and inventive. He provides information on how to source and prepare each ingredient.

Whilst some of the featured ingredients are perhaps best described as “forgotten”, such as cod’s chitterlings and tongues, the book as a whole is definitely not inaccessible or intimidating. Even from the first flick-through test, the pages explode with recipes that you really want to cook and produce that you love eating but perhaps haven’t known what to do with before.

Throughout the recipes are illustrated with beautiful photography from Jason Lowe, who frequently collaborates with Mark Hix. The simple and unfussy images only serve to accentuate the modern clean flavours that run throughout the book. I also love the quirky illustrations from the brilliant Marcus Oakley.

If you’re anything like me, when you first get a cook book you mark up the recipes that you want to try. Well as a testament to the appeal of the recipes in this book, my copy is littered with scraps of paper marking the pages that I want to come back to. High on my list are:

• Gamekeeper’s Pie (February)
• Lobster and Jersey Royal Salad with Bacon (May)
• Steamed Cockles with Bacchus and Samphire (June)
• Gooseberry and Eldeflower Meringue Pie (June)
• Farmhouse Salad with Scotch Duck’s Egg (July)
• Perry Jelly with Summer Fruits (July)
• Treacle Cured Salmon (August)
• Slow-Cooked Pork Belly with Autumn Squash (September)
• Christmas Mess (December)

Of course, I have to wait until the appropriate season comes around for each recipe, and that sense of anticipation is what seasonal cooking is all about. What I really love about this book is how exciting and inventive it shows British cooking to be. Just looking at the above list there is none of the “unimaginative stodge” that has traditionally typified British cuisine. These recipes are fresh and modern, whilst retaining the classic flavours that British cooking and produce represents. I really can’t recommend this book enough – it showcases the absolute best of British produce with exciting and delicious recipes that will restore the joy of seasonality and make your heart swell with pride to be British. Go, buy and be seasonal.

The Proof is in the Pudding…

As I’ve already mentioned, I’ve cooked or adapted a number of the recipes from the book already, including the very first two in the book featuring cauliflower! Having recently been treated to an exceptional use of this assuming vegetable in the cauliflower cheese souffle at the Curlew, I’d been hankering to cook more with cauliflower and also since it has been increasingly reported that cauliflower sales having been slumping over recent years, it seemed to typify the idea behind this book: reviving and celebrating our culinary gems! And who, presented with the below, wouldn’t scurry down to their greengrocer immediately for a few florets of cauliflower.

So, the recipes were cauliflower cheese and cauliflower soup. Both were absolutely delicious. Below I provide an adaptation for the cauliflower cheese recipe so you can try it yourself. Creamy, cheesy, and completely moreish, I defy you not to love this recipe. Its perfect accompaniment is bacon – either chuck some smokey pancetta cubes into the recipe or serve with crispy fried streaky bacon or even bacon chops.

Cauliflower Cheese

• a medium cauliflower, leaves retained
• 1 litre milk
• 1 bay leaf
• sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
• 60g butter
• 60g plain flour
• 100ml double cream
• 120g mature Cheddar cheese, grated
• a handful of parsley, finely chopped

First cut the cauliflower into florets, making sure to retain the leaves for a bit of green! Put the milk in a medium saucepan along with the bay leaf and a good amount of seasoning. Bring to the boil, then add the cauliflower florets and leaves. Simmer gently for about 7-8 minutes until tender. Drain the cauliflower over a bowl to reserve the milk.

Melt the butter in a pan over a gentle heat and then stir in the flour. Using a whisk, continue to stir over a very low heat as you gradually mix in the warm reserved milk. Bring to a simmer and then turn down to a very low heat and then simmer for 20 minutes or so, stirring frequently.

Add the cream and simmer for a few more minutes until the sauce is thick and coating – it should coat the back of a spoon. If it doesn’t seem the right consistency just carry on simmering for a little longer. Strain through a fine sieve into a bowl before stirring in most of the three-quarters of the cheese. Check the seasoning.

Now preheat the oven to 220°C. Making sure the cauliflower florets are completely dry (pat them with kitchen towel if not), mix them with about half of the cheese sauce and transfer to an oven-proof dish.

Spoon over the rest of the sauce and scatter with the chopped parsley.

Then generously sprinkle the remaining cheese on top.

Bake in the oven for 20-25 minutes until golden and bubbling. If the top hasn’t browned  sufficiently, pop it under the grill for a minute or so.

I served generous spoonfuls with bacon and cabbage (sautéed with even more bacon!). Heaven.

Now I know things have been rather slow at F&G towers of late, but that’s not to say that I haven’t been cooking and eating as fervently as ever. If you could only see my dizzyingly long “to blog” list your mind would boggle at how such a very pregnant lady could possibly squeeze so much into an already over-capacity tummy. Well, I’m eating for two innit? And eating is easy enough… what is harder is to fight through the brain fog that seems to have descended in these last few weeks. But I’m still thinking about you readers and if I can’t give you my usual sharp wit and banter (ahem!) then the least I can do is to offer you the chance to come and experience my lovely Brighton for yourselves, courtesy of The Thistle in Brighton.

Over recent months I have sorely missed a number of things: soft cheese, bloody meat, runny eggs and that oldest of friends, alcohol. But when one door closes, another opens… being pregg0 has meant that I could eat pretty much as much chocolate, biscuits and cake that my little heart could desire and one of my favourite past-times has been reviving the Great British afternoon tea. So I was delighted when The Thistle invited me to sample their rather nice afternoon tea last week so they could tell me about the competition they are currently running, which is the chance to win a fantastic break for two at the Thistle Brighton Hotel.

One lucky winner will receive a night’s stay in the luxury Penthouse Suite, which enjoys an outside decked balcony overlooking the sea and a private hot tub. They will also receive a free pass to the recently refurbished Otium Health & Leisure Club, the perfect way to unwind after sampling all that Brighton has to offer. You could use your free pass to let off steam in the sauna and steam rooms or even indulge yourself with a massage or treatment. Finally, the winner will receive a complimentary A La Carte Dinner for two in the Promenade Restaurant, with amazing views over Brighton beach and the sea.

The Thistle is perfectly situated on Brighton’s seafront, a pebble’s throw from the beach. With a frontage overlooking the sea, and the rear backing directly into the heart of the South Laines you really couldn’t be more central. Some of my favourite Brighton spots are a moments stroll away – immediately next door to the hotel (to the rear) is the delicious Moshi Moshi, arguably the best sushi restaurant in town. Brighton’s famous Terre a Terre restaurant is just round the corner, as is the bistro at Hotel du Vin if you fancy something a little meatier. It’s a short meander along the promenade to enjoy all the fun of the pier, and on the way you absolutely have to stop in on Boho Gelato, without a doubt some of the best Italian style gelato you can get outside of Italy. And of course, if you fancy some retail therapy then Brighton’s unique and eclectic boutiques are right on your doorstep. As the sun goes down, join the Brighton massive for a beer on the beach outside the Fortune of War.

For a chance to win all you need to do is visit the competition page and answer the following question: Why should you win a night in a luxury Thistle hotel suite? But you better hurry, the competition closes at 5pm on the 31st March 2011.

The most deserving entry judged by Thistle Hotels will win. The close date for this competition is 31st March 2011 at 5pm. You must be 18yrs or over to enter this competition. Terms and conditions apply. Only one entry per person is allowed.

If I was an organised type of a person I might have posted this recipe prior to last Tuesday so you could actually enjoy it on that long-looked-for annual event, Pancake Tuesday. Well, if I was an organised type of a person I might have even made this on Pancake day itself. But if you haven’t realised by now, I am definitely not an organised type of a person even at the best of times. It turns out that at 8 and 1/2 months pregnant I am a dishevelled and discombobulated mess. As such I didn’t get myself together to make these beauties on Tuesday last (I think I was probably napping at the time), so we ended up having a Pancake Wednesday instead. But, you know what? Pancakes are damn good on any day, so I give you leave to make these on any which day you like. The ricotta along with a hint of lemon zest adds a delicious twist to the American style batter, whilst the smatter of raspberries and very British lemon curd make for the perfect combination.

And what’s more lemon curd is my new obsession. It takes 20 minutes to make and is face-puckeringly good. Enjoy it with these pancakes or spread it on croissants for a morning treat (which I did the next morning and it was heavenly). And if like me you have a heart for the tart then you can even eat it spoonfuls at a time straight from the jar.

Lemon Curd

• zest and juice of 2 unwaxed lemons
• 100g caster sugar
• 50g unsalted butter
• 2 medium eggs and 1 egg yolk.

It’s important to use unwaxed lemons for obvious reasons. If you can’t get hold of unwaxed then give your lemons a really good scrub prior to zesting them. Grate the zest of the lemons as finely as possible into a heat-proof bowl. Try to get just the very outer most layer of zest, otherwise your curd might be bitter rather than pleasingly tart.

Next add the juice of both lemons and the sugar to the bowl.

Place your bowl over a pan of gently simmering water, making sure that the bowl isn’t touching the water. Chop your butter into cubes and add it to the bowl, then stir with a balloon whisk until the butter has completely melted.

Mix the eggs and egg yolk lightly with a fork, then pour into the lemon mixture. Now stir more or less constantly with the whisk until the curd has thickened up. This should take ten minutes or so. Make sure that the water below is not simmering ferociously – keep the flame fairly low so that the water is just simmering gently.

To test if the curd is the right consistency you can coat the back of a teaspoon with the mixture and then allow to cool for a couple of seconds. If when you drag your finger through the mixture it leaves a track then it is probably about the right consistency.

Allow to cool for a few minutes (stirring occasionally so it doesn’t get a skin) then pour into a sterilised jar.

Lemon Ricotta Pancakes

• 4 eggs, yolks and whites separated
• 250g tub of ricotta
• 1 lemon
• 200ml milk
• 255g/9oz plain flour
• 1 tsp baking powder
• pinch of salt
• 1 tbsp caster sugar
• butter.

Place the egg yolks, ricotta and milk in a large mixing bowl and stir to combine. Grate in the zest of the lemon. Now sieve in the flour, baking powder and salt and mix well with the ricotta mixture. Stir in the sugar.

In a separate bowl, whisk the egg whites to soft peaks. Add about a third of the egg whites to the ricotta mixture and stir in to loosen the mixture. Then fold in the remaining egg whites as gently as possible – you don’t want to knock the air out of the mixture.

Melt a couple of knobs of butter in a frying pan and pour into a jug or ramekin and set aside. Lower the heat so the pan is not too hot, otherwise the pancakes will burn on the outside and still be raw in the inside. Wipe the pan down, then pour in a little bit of the butter to grease the pan. Now add a ladle of the batter to the pan.

Once the pancake bubbles a bit, after about 1-2 minutes, turn the pancake over and cook on the other side. Repeat until all the batter is completely used up. You can keep the pancakes warm in a dish covered with a clean tea towel.

Serve a stack of the pancakes with some fresh raspberries, creme fraiche (with more lemon zest grated over if you like) and your beautiful lemon curd. The sweetness of the raspberries against the tartness of the lemon curd is so refreshing and delicious. The perfect pud for any day!

Very occasionally, if you’re very very lucky, you go for a meal that is so special that you forget all your cynicism and critiquing (not that I’m particularly predisposed to either, rarely eating out and even more rarely reviewing restaurants) and just sit back and enjoy the ride. So The Curlew has just won a Michelin star. So what? What is more important is that the food is honest, the staff friendly, the atmosphere relaxed and unpretentious and when you’ve eagerly devoured the final crumby morsels from your last plate, you leave feeling you genuinely may have just had one of the nicest meals of your life.

Sven and I had been looking for a place to have a “final fling” lunch (as we were calling it). That is to say, a real blow out special occasion meal to send us off into parenthood feeling sated and satisfied with our pre-baby lives. Whilst considering our options, we were reminded (by the lovely graphic foodie I believe) that The Curlew on the Kent/Sussex border had just been awarded a Michelin star. That piqued our interest and a quick perusal of the menu had us making a reservation two minutes later. The menu, like the restaurant itself, is bereft of pomposity. Your options are presented as “Pork” or “Cod”, with only the most matter of fact explanation of what will be on the plate underneath. But what will be on the plate, minus the flowery descriptions, sounds so right that you can’t help but get an itchy dialling finger as you drool onto your keyboard. Who wouldn’t want “onion jam potatoes”, whatever they are, or fennel gratin?

We arrived at the restaurant after a gorgeous drive along the very pretty road from Brighton to Bodiam. After cooing at the countryside and announcing resolutely that we would be moving to Burwash, we pulled up at an unimposing but sleek white slateboard building. The interior is quirky and modern: wooden floors, whimsical cow-print wallpaper, and grey walls adorned with retro plates. My only slight peeve was that our table was perhaps a tad too close to our neighbours, but even this was tempered by the fact that the table was occupied by an eccentric old codger who kept prattling on about the ruggers and the price of wine (which according to him was dear).

As we perused the menu, we were brought drinks and still-warm freshly baked bread accompanied by home-made rosemary honey. Apparently, the head chef, Neil McCue, gets to the restaurant at 5am every day to make his own bread, which is just a small demonstration of his obvious passion and dedication - and the honey, well, that’s just for fun. This attention to detail is something that runs throughout the food at The Curlew. It seems the waitresses are constantly pointing out something that the chef has made himself, or sourced from some small local producer. And fast-forwarding to the end of our meal when the hostess spontaneously introduced us to the chef, that passion came across clear as day as he casually chatted to us whilst tenderly cradling a beautiful slab of  Gloucester old spot pork belly, which he apparently massages for extra tenderness.

Anyway, on to the food itself. I started with the Sussex Farmhouse double baked cauliflower cheese souffle, which was described very accurately by the waitress as like eating a cheesy cloud! Served in ironware and looking somewhat unpromising, the souffle was as light as could be whilst  the creamy cauliflower sauce was at once comfortingly nostalgic and luxurious. It was utterly delicious.

Sven ordered the black pudding which came in a turnover, served with a dainty salad of watercress and apple. Completely up Sven’s street, who being a simple Lancashire lad grew up coveting anything covered in pastry. Obviously, this was way beyond anything you might pick up in your local greenhalgh’s. The crisp salad perfectly cut through the fatty meatiness of the melt-in-your-mouth Yorkshire black pudding. Sven was a very happy boy.

I punted for the Gloucester old spot belly for my main course, which was served with fennel gratin and samphire. It was obvious that the pork had been given a lot of love and attention, meltingly soft under the crispest of crisp crackling. I could spy through the semi-open kitchen a few water baths, so I should think that the pork had been cooked sous vide. However it was done, it was really rather special, and the salty samphire (which I love btw) surprisingly complemented the pork brilliantly. And as I said before, who wouldn’t want fennel gratin?

The real star of the day, however, was Sven’s Chop and Chips. I would go back tomorrow just for this champion of a dish. Sven simply described it as the best plate of food he has ever eaten. The “chop” is a huge slab of the largely neglected cut of beef (goodness knows why), the Jacob’s Ladder, which has been cooked slowly for about 2 days. The result is a piece of meat that goes beyond tender. I wish I had never before used the term “melt-in-your-mouth” (dammit, I’ve even used it in this review already) because nothing has ever melted in your mouth like this chunk of hunk. Accompanied by beef dripping chunky chips (and a coleslaw which if I’m honest I could take or leave) this dish was just perfect. Sven had the rib bone in his hands by the end, gnawing desperately for any pieces of meat clinging to the bone. Go. Go now for this alone.

The meal was finished for me with the hot chocolate pot served with malted milk ice-cream. The chocolate pot was only barely cooked so that when you broke through the cakey exterior you found a molten sea of chocolate. The cold malt ice-cream was the perfect accompaniment to the hot chocolate in that both were better eaten together than they were apart – which is surely the idea! Sven, on the other hand, was just finished. After The Chop he couldn’t face another bite.

And after all this finery, when our bill came we were perfectly delighted to hand over the mere £80 (including tip) that this nicest of meals had set us back, especially when we considered all the distinctly average and even disappointing meals that had come before and cost more. We felt even more pleased when we remembered that we had spent £50 at a chain restaurant not a week before. The food at the Curlew is Great British cooking at its best, using modern methods to their best advantage without a hint of the puffiness and haughtiness that all too often accompanies a Michelin star.

Oh do go, won’t you?

The Curlew

01580 861394

£80 for two people. We didn’t have a bottle of wine, but we had a few drinks each!

A strong reviving coffee is a must at so many junctures in life: first thing in the morning, when your eyelids are still stubbornly clinging to sleep; mid-afternoon at the office when the 3pm slump has well and truly set in; and late at night when you’ve got a deadline looming and you just don’t think you’ve got it in you to see. it. through. So anything that makes brewing the crucial cup of energising coffee just as quick and easy as possible is a-ok with me. Tomorrow Douwe Egberts launch their new product, “Aromettes”,  which removes the measuring and spoon from the equation.

Aromettes are individually pressed servings of ground coffee, shaped rather cutely into a coffee bean. By compressing ground coffee immediately after roasting, Aromettes lock in the taste and aroma of freshly ground coffee. Now for the ease: instead of spooning in your freshly ground coffee, just add 1 Aromette pod per person to your cafetière (or filter machine) and add boiling water. As soon as the Aromettes come into contact with hot water, the fresh taste and aroma is released, giving a cup of coffee that’s quick, easy and yet full of flavour.

As soon as Douwe Egberts sent me their samples of Aromettes I immediately deposited them in my office’s kitchen where they swiftly and gratefully replaced the stale tubs of coffee that we are usually supplied with. They are absolutely perfect for the office kitchen, where the quality of your cuppa can depend wholly on whoever is brewing it (sometimes to disastrous effect). Aromettes take that unpredictability away because each pod is the perfect amount for 1 cup, so whoever’s turn it is manning the kettle you can be confident that you’ll end up with a decent cup every time.

Aromette’s come in two varieties, Smooth (Strength 3) and Intense (Strength 5). They will be available exclusively in Tesco from 14th February 2011.

As part of my Frugal February month I’m giving you the opportunity to win £100 worth of Tesco vouchers courtesy of Douwe Egberts Aromettes, so you can get a week’s shopping completely free. Forget your meagre eats for a few days and indulge in your decadent favourites. Why not? Decadence is after-all the antidote to monotony. Along with the £100 Tescco Vouchers you’ll also win two tubs of Douwe Egberts Aromettes to sample.

For a chance to win, simply leave a comment below. To put your name in the hat for a second time, follow me on twitter (if you don’t already) and tweet “Win £100 tesco vouchers with @feedetgastro’s #frugalfebruarygiveaway http://wp.me/pLpVQ-yu @DouweEgbertsUK”. Drop another comment below to let me know you’ve done it (in case I miss it on twitter). I will draw the winner on Monday 21st February at Midday. The winner will be notified by email (so please make sure you leave your correct email address with your comment, which will only be visible to me). Good luck!

Terms & Conditions: The vouchers are not valid for Tesco Direct. The vouchers and two tins of Douwe Egberts Aromettes will be dispatched within 28 days by Douwe Egberts. There is no cash substitute for the prize. The winner will be selected using an online randomiser. The judge’s decision will be final and absolutely no correspondence will be entered in to. The giveaway is available in the UK only.

UPDATE: the winner has now been picked using an online randomiser. No more entries will be considered. The winner will be notified by email. Thanks!