What's for lunch?

Look, I know I don’t need to tell you about quesadillas, but I’m gonna, anyway. It’s the school holidays! I don’t know about you, but I’m halfway up the wall with all the (play) fighting (which always ends up the same way as the real kind), the mess and the lack of any kind of volume control, not to mention the destruction of neighbours’ property (don’t ask). Of course the upside is the weather has been gorgeous, we've had some lovely trips out, and we can all still be in our pyjamas at 10am if we like...

That Yummy Sauce

Kids are funny lil’ ole things aren’t they? (Though, if you have them, ‘funny’ may not be the adjective that springs immediately to mind.) One day they like something, the next they turn their noses up. Incredibly honed instincts enable them to tell on sight whether they like something or not, no morsel need pass the lips. Combine a set of ingredients in one way and it’s a big thumbs up, combine the same ingredients and present it in a different format and, well, good luck.

Not a recipe, a rant

I ordered some single cream from Ocado and instead they bought Elmlea. I didn’t know what it was, so I didn’t give it back to the driver. I think I assumed it was just branded (as opposed to supermarket own-label) cream. It was with a growing sense of (what? Outrage? Is outrage too strong?) let’s just say outrage, tinged with disgust, with perhaps a soupçon of sadness that I read the label.

Perfect every time?

I am Yorkshire born and bred, but until recently I’d never made Yorkshire puddings myself. I think this is because when I was growing up, Sundays brought with them a special kind of anxiety: would the puddings rise this week? It was even worse if we had company. The shame that would attach if that week’s batch loitered limply in the tin, as opposed to floating puffy and crisp on the plate! More often than not they were perfect, but it seemed as if the magic secret ingredient – whisked in with the egg, flour and milk - was actually the worry itself.

When life hands you lemons...

... make lemon risotto.

My friend Anne gave me this gorgeous specimen, sent from the garden of her parents' home in the south of France. Beautiful, perfectly uniformly sunshine yellow with a shiny, subtly dimpled skin, you could smell it from a mile away. I felt privileged to have been gifted with one of these beauties, so I really wanted to do it justice. I wanted something that would use both the zest and the juice, and that would make a really special Saturday night dinner for Dear Husband and self, perhaps as an accompaniment to some fish.

In the end, I decided on a lemon risotto. Unctuous, oozing rice with an assertive-without-being-strident citrus tang. 

Meatloaf

I made meatloaf this evening. I’m not entirely sure why. It’s not really part of the British culinary vernacular, is it? And yet in the USA (Dear Husband is Ohio-born) it’s a comforting staple. There are a bazillion different permutations (spicy, herby, veggie-laden, Italian-influenced with oregano and tomatoes, Mexican-inflected with chillies and coriander leaf, you get my drift), so why has it never caught on here?

Thorough – nay, exhaustive – research (thanks, Wikipedia!) reveals that it does have northern European ancestry. But of course it does. If you consider the idea that it probably began as a way of making small amounts of inexpensive meat (plus a little starchy filler – oats, breadcrumbs or suchlike) go a long way, it’s not a stretch of the imagination to consider it first cousin to the haggis, or certainly the faggot.  Just don’t tell the Americans! (DH is the only American I’ve ever met who actually likes haggis.)

Quickie post: Awesome feta, pea and mint cous cous salad

It takes longer to say ‘feta, pea and mint cous cous salad’ than it takes to assemble it. Almost. This is more a serving suggestion than a recipe, so I’m not going to give exact quantities. It’s well worth making for one, but, equally, is easy to scale up to feed a crowd. It tastes brilliant with lamb – chops, kebabs, leftover roast, you name it.