SAUSAGE, CHILLI TOMATO AND RICOTTA PASTA

SAUSAGE, CHILLI TOMATO AND RICOTTA PASTA

SERVES 2

1/2 tbsp olive oil

small knob of butter

1 shallot, very finely chopped

1 stick celery, very finely chopped

1 garlic clove, finely chopped

3 free-range pork sausages

8 chilli blush tomatoes (Sacla do a good version), chopped

4 tbsp chicken stock or water, hot

1 tbsp tomato puree

100g ricotta

150g amori pasta

handful chopped parsley leaves

Heat the olive oil and butter in a pan over a medium-low heat. When the butter has melted, add the shallot, celery and garlic and sweat, covered, for 5 minutes until soft but not coloured. 

Remove the meat from the sausages and add to the pan, breaking up lumps with the back of a wooden spoon. Fry gently for 10 minutes until browned and starting to caramelise. Then, stir in the chopped chilli tomato, hot chicken stock/water and tomato puree. Season with salt and black pepper and cook for 5 minutes. 

Meanwhile, bring a pan of salted water to the boil and add the pasta. Cook for 8 minutes until al dente or according to according to pack instructions. Drain, reserving 1 tbsp of the pasta water and stir through the sausage sauce. 

Stir the ricotta and the chopped parsley through the pasta and season again to taste. Serve with a crunchy salad and bread for mopping.

CELERIAC REMOULADE

This on a menu, with a few thin slices of proper jamon, makes me squeal with glee. If there were space, I'd make a vat-load to fill jars for every corner of the fridge, and dip in and out when I pleased.

Celeriac remoulade wins for its true rooty flavour; no ingredient is lost even though tossed through buckets of spicy mustard and soused in tart lemon juice. It's a frugal combination and is easy to make. It is bed-friend to my favourite things: slather it on good bread; spoon it into a jacket potato and eat with baked beans (yes); gobble fork-free with piggy bits.  

CELERIAC REMOULADE

Serves 4-6

1 x 500g celeriac, peeled

olive oil, to drizzle

3 tbsp creme fraiche

1 tbsp grainy mustard

3 tbsp dijon mustard

juice of a lemon

freshly chopped parsley leaves, to serve

Coarsely grate the celeriac into a large bowl and drizzle with olive oil.

In another bowl, mix the creme fraiche with the mustards then stir through the lemon juice. Taste then season with salt and pepper as you see fit. Mix through the celeriac and, just as you are about to serve, toss with the chopped parsley.

Serve a handful on salty jamon and drizzle with a little olive oil.

AUTUMN COLESLAW

I adore this dish. The colour kicks us straight into autumn - bright pink and vibrant. It keeps to all the promises of a perfectly constructed salad: sweet crunch from the roots, creaminess from the yoghurt, citrus to cut through, a light nuttiness and a well-balanced freshness from the herbs.

It works wonderfully well alongside meat, hot or cold - a classic pulled pork, leftover roast ham or crispy chicken wings - or seasonal fruits - pears, apples or plums.

I could eat this for every meal. Even breakfast.

BEETROOT, CELERIAC & CABBAGE COLESLAW

serves 8

ingredients

1/2 white cabbage

1/2 celeriac, peeled and grated

3 small beetroot, peeled and grated

finely grated zest and juice 1 large lemon

2 tbsps greek yoghurt

sesame seeds to garnish, optional

large handful mint, finely shredded

large handful coriander, finely chopped

olive oil to dress

Add the grated beetroot to a large bowl (not the one you are going to serve the coleslaw from). Finely shred the white cabbage, discarding the tough core and slicing up any large pieces, and add to the beetroot with the celeriac. Add the lemon zest and juice, and lightly toss - you want to avoid over tossing the beetroot at this stage as it will stain the other vegetables.

Keep covered in the fridge until you are ready to eat it. Just before serving, stir through the yoghurt so that it is evenly distributed. Move to a clean bowl, then dress with the sesame seeds, mint and coriander. Drizzle, generously, with olive oil.

* If you are not going to eat all of the coleslaw, leave aside some of the salad after adding the lemon juice. Any leftovers can keep for up to three days or can be cooked up as an autumn gratin. Butter an oven-proof dish and pour in the lemony root vegetable mix. Pour over cream, season, grate with parmesan and bake for 25 minutes in a hot oven (200°C/fan180°C/gas 6). Heaven.

GAZPACHO

CLASSIC GAZPACHO

serves 8 bowls

ingredients

1kg ripe plum, beef, and cherry tomatoes, peeled and chopped

3 large red peppers, cored and chopped

1 large cucumber, peeled and chopped

200g white breadcrumbs

3 cloves garlic, chopped

500ml iced water

150ml white wine vinegar

150ml olive oil

salt and pepper

for garnish

3 pink echalion onions, very finely sliced

handful basil leaves

2 small dried red chillies, crushed

24 ice cubes

Place the tomatoes, peppers, cucumber, breadcrumbs and garlic into a food processor and blitz until smooth, adding the water a little at a time. You may have to do this in batches. Once smooth, add the vinegar and olive oil and season to taste. You want the soup to taste fresh, a little sharp from the vinegar, and rich with flavour. 

Leave the soup to chill in the fridge for an hour and serve ice cold with a scattering of the onions, basil and chilli. Season with salt, drizzle with olive oil and a few ice cubes. 

ASPARAGUS, PEACH AND BASIL SALAD

A beautiful and uncomplicated

ASPARAGUS, PEACH AND BASIL SALAD

with cured ham

inspired by Clara

serves 4

ingredients

3 bunches fine asparagus (roughly 8 stems each), snapped at base

2 ripe yellow flesh peaches, sliced

generous handful basil leaves, torn

generous pinch salt

100ml olive oil

200g cured ham (Parma/Serrano)

Bring a large pan of water to the boil. Add the snapped asparagus stems to the water and simmer for 2-3 minutes until they are bright green and still have a bit of crunch. Drain and refresh under cold water. 

Place the asparagus in a large bowl and scatter the peach slices and torn basil leaves. Drizzle with olive oil and season with salt. Toss and serve with the ham. 

ROASTED SWEDE SALAD

My mother, born and brought up in Scotland, land of all things neep, said she won't touch swede for love nor money. Had too much, she said. Can't stand the stuff. Can't bear the smell. And even when I pulled out a perfect turnip she sniffed at it, told me to throw it to the hens. I know many more who would say the same.

This recipe is great for those who don't like, or think they don't like swede. Roasting it with honey, garlic and thyme kindly masks its sheepy, back-of-the-throat twang (a grower for sure) and softens the solid root to chewy flesh. Combine it with smoked bacon and crumbled feta and you have the mix of salt and sweet. It's an easy way in. Mum ate it, and went back for more.

WARM ROASTED SWEDE, BACON AND FETA SALAD


1 large swede serves 2

ingredients

1 large swede, scrubbed, removed of its top, cut into chunks or wedges
2 tbsps olive oil
3 cloves garlic, unpeeled
4 roasted cherry tomatoes
2 sprigs thyme
generous season of salt and pepper
4 rashers smoked streaky bacon
tsp balsamic vinegar
100g feta
toasted pumpkin seeds, optional
few leaves mint, to garnish

Preheat the oven to 200C.

Put the swede in a roasting tin with the olive oil, garlic, roasted herry tomatoes and thyme. Season well. Place in the oven for 45 minutes. Add the bacon and put back in until crispy. The swede should be chewy with crisp skin. Remove from the oven.

Pour the balsamic into the bottom of a large bowl and pour in the warm olive oil from the roasting tin. Whisk to emulsify and add the roasted swede and bacon. Crumble over the feta and pumpkin seeds, if using, and toss through. Garnish with mint and serve, warm, spreading the roasted garlic onto thick slices of bread. Swede, swede heaven.

FRANKFURTERS AND RADICCHIO

Precooked, reconstituted, over-processed pork. What's not to love? There's something about the oh-so-slippery frankfurter - the pop as you bite, the flop as you pick up, the salt as you chew, and the eight more after that - that rocks my boat. Once in a while (and, frankly, not often enough) they hit it. Bop.

Hell, why not wrap one up in a pancake for breakfast tomorrow?

FRANKFURTERS with CREAMY RADICCHIO and NEW POTATO HASH

eaten in utter joy with co-frank-lover Clara

serves 2

4 small new potatoes

knob butter

1 clove garlic, chopped and crushed

1 head of radicchio, shredded

100ml double cream

salt and pepper

6 frankfurters

Bring a small pan of water to the boil. When boiling, drop in the potatoes and turn to a simmer. Cook for 15 minutes until softer than you'd usually cook them. Take off the heat and leave in the water.

Meanwhile, fry the butter over a medium heat in a saucepan and, simultaneously, add the garlic and shredded radicchio. Stir through and cook until the radicchio is slightly wilted. Now push the radicchio aside and add the frankfurters. Cook until the skin is browned and they are hot through.

Remove the sausages to a piece of kitchen towel. Drain the potatoes and add to the radicchio. Crush them slightly with the back of the wooden spoon.

Add the cream to the radicchio mix and bring to a simmer for 1 minute. Season and serve alongside the frankfurters. Fabulous with Annie Bell's mustardy Savoy coleslaw (as seen in photo).

Pure unadulterated - apart from the meat - heaven.

KOHLRABI

What do you know, kohlrabi is a cabbage. So just like that, I love it.

It is a sweet vegetable, fresh and cooling. It sides perfectly to spices and sour souses. It can be shaved, grated and eaten raw. It can be steamed or stir fried or souped. Sweet sweet kohlrabi, be mine.

COOL KOHLRABI SALAD
for soused mackerel and hot curries

SERVES 3-4 as a side

1 kohlrabi, peeled and de-stemmed
1 tbsp natural yoghurt
juice half a lemon
1 tsp coriander seeds
1 tbsp fennel leaves, roughly chopped
salt and pepper

Shave the kohlrabi with a vegetable peeler into a large bowl and stir the yoghurt and lemon juice.

Meanwhile, toast the coriander seeds over a medium heat until they are warm enough to let off an aroma. Roughly crush the seeds in a pestle and mortar and throw over the kohlrabi. Toss through with the fennel leaves and season.

Simple simple.

Try these kohlrabi combinations too:

Caraway and cucumber
Apple, ginger and fennel
Carrot and cumin
Beetroot and fresh coriander leaves

BLACK FIG SALAD

Over the past week my flat has been turned upside down. Once resembling a relatively tidy place of calm, it has now car-crashed into a cave of creative chaos.
Sitting room has transformed into slap-dash studio - canvases half or unpainted on the floor, paintbrushes in jam jars and a faint sniff of white spirit. Kitchen surfaces are a-clutter with fruit and vegetables aside tubes of heavy autumnal oils. The sewing machine has taken up most of my dining room table as napkins sit in a pile waiting to be hemmed.

An eager start to the stitching season.

With very little room for wooden spoons and chopping boards, cooking has become a four-flavour affair. Simple salads, quick porridge and warmed up soups. And the leftovers of my patient paintees.

This recipe was made for me by Clara - our wonderfully talented cook at Books For Cooks. With just a few, perfectly formed ingredients she threw together a plateful of pure goodness - ideal for clutterists like me.

BLACK FIG AND CAVOLO NERO SALAD

SERVES 2 as a main

ingredients

3 large cavolo nero leaves, shredded

1 small radicchio, shredded

2 tbsps olive oil

1 tbsp white wine vinegar

1 large ball of good buffalo mozzarella

3 black figs, quartered

handful basil leaves

salt

Bring a pan of salted water with the cavolo nero and radicchio to the boil. Blanche for 4 minutes. Drain. Heat olive oil in a large saucepan and add the white wine vinegar. Follow with the veg. Season well with salt and pepper and fry for a further 3 minutes.

Arrange the cavolo nero and radicchio on a large serving dish, tear over the mozarella and throw on the figs. Drizzle with a little more olive oil, scatter with the basil leaves and a sprinkling of salt.

PIGS IN PINNIES AT THE SECRET LARDER

Can't give too much away to you oinkers, but seeing as last night's take over of the Ramsden Secret Larder was a blast, we'll bare this wee feasty nugget.

Slipped in between a creamy crab bisque and a groaning plate of lamb and samphire, Pigs in Pinnies present:

BROAD BEAN and SORREL SALAD
w/ RADISHES and CRISPED PANCETTA

Serves 4-6

1 large bunch of sorrel (about 6 leaves) washed, drained, chopped
8 large beetroot leaves, stalk-free, washed, drained, chopped
200g broad beans, double-podded:
(a bore but worth it to avoid memories of chewy grey school beans)
5 pink, round radishes, thinly sliced
100g pancetta, very thinly sliced, cut to 1x1in

dressing
1/4 tsp hot English mustard
1/4 tsp Dijon mustard
good pinch sugar
40ml white wine vinegar
100ml extra virgin olive oil
3 tarragon leaves, finely chopped
juice of 1/4 lemon or to taste(optional)

Bring a pan of water to the boil and cook the beans until heated through. Drain and remove the shell. (It'll be easier to take the beans from their shell when they have been cooked). Place back in the warm pan and set aside.

Mix the prepared beetroot leaves with the sorrel and a little salt and olive oil, then lay in equal bunches on the plate. In a medium-size bowl combine the radishes and shelled broad beans.

Put a lightly oiled frying pan on a medium heat. When the oil is hot, add the sliced pancetta. This should hiss as it hits the pan, the fat melting slightly so the meat won't stick. Cook until crispy.

Meanwhile, measure out the mustard, sugar and vinegar straight into a jar and stir well so the sugar dissolves. Add the olive oil, tarragon, and lemon, if using. The tarragon will leave a very faint hint - you don't want it to overpower the other punchy flavours on the plate. Whisk the dressing until blended. Season to taste. You want a smooth, sweet dressing with a sharp kick to complement the velvety broad beans and lemony sorrel.

Pour the dressing into the bean bowl, and gently toss through.

Lay the beans and radishes on top of the leaves. Scatter over the salty, crisp pancetta and serve.

An early summer salad with veggies a plenty,
Worthy of quadrupling for a supper o' 20.

Pigs in Pinnies'll be back soon,
With - we hope - another corker
to make you all swoon!