An accidental Lent

April, and a budget month in our house.

That one glorious week of sun turned foul just in time for the Easter break, spoiling everyone's fun.

I ring my mother in the perfect one day better the next state of Queensland and she says it's 28 and gorgeous. She's having a barbie and has a rolled neck of pork stuffed with fennel and herbs and has made an upside down fig cake. She is putting up her pretty Indian outdoor parasoles, I imagine their twinkling bells in the distance daintily mocking me here, sat on the floor with my back to radiator.

Mum says what are you doing for Easter and I haven't thought of anything. I haven't bought chocolate eggs, don't even know when you are supposed to give them, but Gareth and I have had a few hot cross buns for breakfast. Mum admonishes me saying my kids can't be the only children in the world who don't get Easter eggs and tells me that you dye real eggs on Friday, eat chocolate on the Sunday. So I google how to make real Easter eggs, gather the kids for an Easter-themed mission of buying food colouring and let them choose chocolate bunnies for the Sunday.

Dyeing the eggs was fun. It filled in another miserable grey afternoon and the kids actually begged me to let them eat hard-boiled eggs. Thanks mum.

The reason we are skint is we spent up in March with a trip to London to celebrate my 39th and River's 5th birthday. I got to dine at Nopi, River got to see real Egyptian mummies.

Nopi was amazing, everything and more than what I expected from Yotam Ottolenghi. We dined downstairs at one of the communal marble tables, where I could spy the kitchen staff so serenely going about the business of sorting leaves and podding beans. River and Phoebe spent the entire evening in the ladies toilets where the hexagonal surround of mirrors shot their reflections out like some disco video of the early eighties. I might be kidding myself but I also think the maitre-d mistook me initially for Stella McCartney, but that's another story. Let's just say I was looking and feeling good that night.

River and Phoebe loved London, especially the tubes with their resounding buskers and huge elevators of ascending and descending people all in lines, their maze-like tunnels and the whoosh of outgoing trains. Everything that I was worried about for the kids was what they loved; the mass of humanity all rushing, pressing, charging, quick quick quick, Gareth weaving us around the streets and platforms like the old Londoner he once was - thrilled and delighted them. Mention the word London in our house now and River says I LOVE London! It's sparkling crown jewels, dinosaurs and ruined civilisations made it the best toy ever.

Anyway, it's over now. We are skint and I am cooking with what is in my dry store and what is in the fridge. No quick dash to the shops for a special ingredient - that ends up costing £20 because I always buy more when I'm there. I did a big shop at the beginning of the week - the supermarket, the organic grocer, the bakery, and that's it - I am making it work.

It's kind of liberating actually - that old theme of liberation through restriction - because, in order to use an ingredient before it gets tired I have cooked in ways that I never have before. (That pear with the brown spot's going in a crumble)

Take this lunch I just whipped up out of a quarter bag of spinach leaves that were hanging about, still fine, but may have been forgotten and thrown out in more frivolous months.

I wilted the spinach in a small pan, added a tiny splash of extra virgin olive oil, some black pepper, sea salt and a teaspoon each of some pesto I had made a few days ago and single cream. It's piled on to toasted sourdough, topped with avocado (39p each at the organic grocer The Unciorn this week! I bought 3!) and chopped parsley.

The aubergine is providing the most value-for-money. So far from my Value Bag of 4 aubergines I have made a smoky aubergine and lemon risotto from Yotam (again). I never thought the squidgy, sometimes blandness of aubergine would go well with the squidgy, sometimes blandness of risotto, but I trust Yotam and was fascinated. The trick is charring the whole aubergine on a gas flame, and using the softened, smoky flesh to fold through the rice. Topped with shredded basil, lemon zest and small chunks of fried (or roasted) aubergine and it is equisite.

The second dish I made was a tomato pilav with dill, feta and aubergine (recipe to follow). I followed a basic recipe from Claudia Roden's Middle Eastern Cookery book and added what I had hanging around: it really upped the ante of our usual baked rice dishes.

The third aubergine was thinly sliced and fried and added to a bolognese style sauce with cubed potatoes and layered with pasta and bechamel by Gareth for his and the kid's dinner one night that I went out. I still have one aubergine left that needs cooking soon or else it will go soggy and sour - a batch of baba ganoush may be on the cards.

I was initially miserable at having no money to play with over the holidays, a bit sulky actually, but it's OK. I am realising how often we waste food, buying when we already have plenty. The kids have played  together in the house, making up elaborate games of vampires and animal worlds and who can stuff as many cuddly toys as possible in their pillow case before the police-man comes (an over-sized Lego torch).  I went shopping and tried on lots of clothes I loved and had the strength to turn away. Getting ready for a dinner party that night I re-styled an outfit from my wardrobe and felt fab. We've cut back but not been compromised. A kind of accidental Lent really.

Tomato pilav with dill, feta and aubergine
(Serves two greedy adults having seconds with enough for a left-over lunch for one, or 4 respectable, moderate eaters)


1 brown onion, chopped
4 tablespoons olive oil
1 clove garlic, peeled and whole
500g tomatoes, skinned, seeds removed and chopped
1 medium aubergine, cubed
1 bay leaf
3 tbsp chopped fresh dill
2 cups long grain rice, washed
some water
4 tbsp feta, crumbled
some chopped parsley and dry oregano to garnish (optional)


Method:

Pre-heat the oven to 200 Degrees Celsius
Place the aubergine on a baking tray and drizzle 2 tablespoons of the olive oil over it, turning each piece over in the oil with your hands to make sure it all gets coated. Place in the oven and cook until golden brown (about 15-20 mins depending on your oven). Set aside but keep the oven on, turning it down to 180.
In a large casserole dish fry the onion in the rest of the oil until soft and golden. Add the garlic.
Now add the tomatoes and season generously with salt and pepper.
Saute the tomatoes, squashing them with your spoon, breaking them down, pour a little water over them, enough to just cover, add the bay leaf and simmer gently for about 30 mins, checking to make sure they don't dry out - add a little more water if needed.
Taste the sauce - it should be nice and rich in texture and flavour - add the rice and cover with enough water to double the volume and now put the roasted aubergine in the pot with the fresh dill.  (I also added a sneaky pinch of vegetable boulliion)
Bring to a gentle boil, put the lid on and put in the oven for about 25 - 30 minutes or until the liquid is absorbed and the rice is tender.
Serve in bowls topped with the finely crumbled feta, a sprinkle or dry oregano and fresh parsley.

Once he was better

Once Gareth was feeling better and I was liberated from my soup kitchen rota, I served-up this highly textured and densely flavoured couscous, inspired by Yotam Ottolenghi (again). I added preserved lemon because I made some at Christmas from lovely cheap organic lemons - it added a nice salty piquancy. We made a meal of it by accompanying the couscous with slices of aubergine, courgette, baby leeks and red pepper tossed in a marinade of kofta spice mix, sea salt and olive oil and then roasted for about half an hour.

Couscous with herbs and almonds 

150g couscous
160 ml boiling water
1 small onion thinly sliced
1 tbsp olive oil
salt
pinch of ground cumin
1/3 c sliced almonds lightly toasted in a dry fry pan
3 spring onions finely sliced
2 teaspoons preserved lemon rind very finely diced, or the zest of one lemon
3 tabs parsley finely chopped
3 tabs coriander finely chopped
olive oil

Method:

Place the couscous in a large bowl and cover with the boiling water. Cover the bowl with a clean tea towel and leave for 10 mins for the water to be absorbed into the grains.

Fry the onion in the olive oil until it has browned and is soft, add the cumin and salt, stir a few times and turn off the heat. Add the onion to the couscous with the toasted almonds.

Once the couscous is just warm rather than steaming, add the chopped spring onions and herbs. Check for seasoning and drizzle a little olive oil through to dress. Serve at room temperature.

After rain, re-vamp

I am hibernating. The trill of rain on my window and the trees thrashing about in wind are crushing my motivation. I slip beneath the doona at 2pm and would disappear until wine-o'clock if it wasn't for the weather-bashed school-run. I am not feeling 'Christmassy', I am not compiling lists of my 'favourite seasonal' things. I am barely cooking anything new - just rotating the basic pasta/chicken curry/pasta/mash-topped bake scenario. I am eating pastries instead of lunch, having another tea with honey. I listen to the radio all day for company and peer at other people's wonderful lives artfully displayed on their brilliant blogs. I have no more money to shop, only the kids will get presents this year. Australia is taunting me, from the pages of my book, The Slap, and I'm watching the TV series of it, barely able to breathe. I wake each morning in the dark. I am still in Manchester.

I have had some triumphs. I made a nice gratin with mixed root vegetables and served it with a radicchio and avocado salad and a side of caramelised fennel from Yotam Ottolenghi's Plenty.

I have danced in the kitchen to DJ Shadow's Scale it Back featuring Little Dragon and felt it to be the most perfect expression of my soul.

I have tweaked small areas of our house. The hallway now has a bamboo phone table and the shoe basket next to it, and this small vignette, this little zone of organisation makes me disproportionately happy.

But in all, it's been a sleepy, bleak week.

I will rise again, and so will this diary, to meet the new year with a fresh start, a refreshed outlook, and a new look. The good news is, I have the skills of a proper photographer on board - Darren Hickson will be joining me in this project, and as of January posts will go up twice monthly, with fabulous photography.

Until then, thank you for reading.

xx Nicole

Mixed Root Vegetable Gratin

3 medium potatoes, washed and cut as thin as you can (tip: cut a weeny little piece from the length-wise bottom of the potato off and then it will have a flat base to stay steady on the board as you slice)
1 small sweet potato, peeled and finely sliced in rounds
1 medium parsnip, peeled and finely sliced in rounds
approx 1 cup double cream
1 clove garlic, crushed
a pinch of grated nutmeg
sea salt and pepper
Parmesan or Grano Padano, grated to top

Method:

Pre-heat the oven to 220 degrees Celsius
Put the vegetables, garlic and nutmeg into a bowl and cover with the cream, toss and season well.
Layer the vegetables into a baking dish, pouring any extra cream from the bowl over the top, you want the mix to be coated well, but too much cream makes for a sloppy gratin.
Sprinkle with Parmesan and then cover with tin foil.
Bake in the hot oven for about 35 - 40 mins or until the vegetables are soft (press a sharp knife through them) and then remove the foil to brown the cheese for another 10 mins.


Yotam Ottolenghi's caremilised fennel
(the original recipe is finished with goat's curd, but I am not a fan)

4 small or 2 large fennel bulbs
40g unsalted butter
3 tabs olive oil
1 tablespoon caster sugar
1 clove garlic, crushed
1 tsp fennel seeds
grated zest of 1 lemon
sea salt and black pepper

Method:

Take off the fronds of the fennel and save some to garnish. Slice off the bottom root part of the bulbs and remove the tough outer layer, keeping the base in-tact. Cut each bulb lengthwise, into 1.5 cm slices.

Melt the butter and oil in a large frying pan on high heat, large enough to hold all the slices, or do 2 batches in a smaller pan. When butter starts to foam add the fennel. Turn only when the fennel has coloured a light brown, about 2 mins, then turn.

When other side is browned, remove the slices from the pan and add the sugar, fennel seeds, and salt and pepper. Fry for about 30 seconds, then return the fennel to the pan and cook for a further 2 mins to coat. Remove and allow to cool to room temperature.

To serve, arrange the fennel on a deep plate and toss with finely chopped dill fronds, the crushed garlic and lemon zest.