Saturday 28 May 2011

A singleton storecupboard

There's a scene in Bridget Jones' Diary (she says, alienating her entire male readership in one clean sweep) where she notes that "at times like this, continuing with one's life seems impossible, and eating the entire contents of one's fridge seems inevitable." There's then a slightly worrying snapshot of some mouldy cheese and a cupboard containing (I think) a solitary box of bran flakes.

Fortunately, I've never reached a low low enough to require consumption of everything I have in the house; this is, in part, due to the somewhat extensive nature of my fridge and storecupboards. My greatest worry about becoming a famous food writer (obviously, a much more inevitable eventuality than eating the entire contents of my fridge) is that one day I will be asked the question that Sunday supplements thrive on: what do you always keep in your fridge/storecupboards? Because then I'd have to finally confess just what a vast array of food I seem to consider it necessary to have in my house at any one time. Right now, the fridge tally alone runs to:

five types of cheese (shropshire blue, parmesan, mozzarella, feta, and goats'), eggs, lemons, juice, milk, sherry, fennel, pickled chillis, sweet chilli sauce, hoisin sauce, oyster sauce, pickled chilli paste, harissa (this is just another chilli paste, no?), thai red curry paste (yes, *another* chilli paste), chocolate spread, "easy" roasted garlic, cornichons, pickled onions, ready-made bearnaise sauce, dijon mustard, wholegrain mustard, capers, homemade strawberry jam, tomato paste, sundried tomato paste (why both?), tomato ketchup, preserved lemons (just in case I run out of fresh ones?), pickled ginger, butter, two types of chocolate, tonic water, natural yogurt, a mini bottle of pink cava, a tube of superglue, redcurrant jelly, lettuce, bacon, and lime pickle.

Congrats to anyone who actually made it through that list. Just to confirm, yes, there is just the one of me living here.


The above is slightly excessive, but I do think a well-stocked kitchen is essential for the single cook, particularly one with such a busy social life she has no time to go shopping *preens self*. For example, if you always have olives, capers, tinned anchovies, dried chillis, and sundried tomato paste in your cupboards, all of which will happily keep for years, you can make a basic version of one of my favourite pasta sauces:

Tart's Spaghetti

Ok, so this was originally a storecupboard staple for Italian prostitutes.

2 tbs sundried tomato paste (normal tomato paste will also do)
1 tbs capers
1 tbs chopped olives
about half a tin of anchovies, finely chopped
1/2 tsp chilli flakes

Stir all of the above through a portion of cooked pasta. No, seriously. That's it.

There's also a fresher version of this recipe in my post about quick pasta suppers.


We're often told about the importance of keeping spices in cupboards to a minimum, so that they're used up quickly. Of course, that's true to an extent, but I also believe that the more spices you have in stock, the more interesting your food. Though the cloves I've had since I first left home to go to university might be pushing it now. Anyway, if you have a decent selection of whole spices and some lentils, you can make dal:

A Bengali Dal

This is adapted from a recipe in Indian Food Made Easy, by Anjum Anand. It's Bengali because it's sweet and mustard-seed-spiked.

100g red lentils
1 bay leaf
500 ml (perhaps more) water
1/2 tsp turmeric powder

1 tsp coriander seeds, ground
1 tsp garam masala (Bart's is particularly good)
2 tsp sugar

2 tbs butter
4 cardamom pods
4 cloves
a thin shard of cinnamon stick about as long as your thumb, or a tsp of ground cinnamon
1 tsp cumin seeds
2 tsp mustard seeds
1/2 tsp dried chilli flakes
2 tbs dessicated coconut

Stick all the first bunch of ingredients into a small saucepan, bring to the boil, and simmer for 20 mins or so (depending on the pack instructions and how long they've been sitting in your cupboard for), until the lentils are soft and almost starting to break down. Add more water half-way through if they look like they're drying up.

Once done, add in the coriander seeds/garam masala/sugar, and stir so that some of the lentils break down, whilst some are still whole. Cover and turn off the heat.

In another pan, melt the butter, and tip in all that last tranch of spices, minus the coconut. Fry until the mustard seeds start to pop, then tip in the coconut. It will probably froth up a fair bit, so stir vigorously until the coconut starts to go a little toasty-brown, then remove from the heat.

Serve the lentils with the butter/spice/coconut mix tipped, or artistically swirled, over the top.


Next up, a little word about those vacuum packs of pre-cooked rice/lentils that you can buy. Food of the devil, right? *cough*. I always keep a couple of rice and one of puy lentils in my cupboard for emergencies. In full-on emergencies, I'll eat them as is, perhaps with a dash of soy sauce or some other seasoning from the depths of my cupboards. But they're also a good base for whatever leftover veg you have languishing at the bottom of your fridge. For example...

Fry a handful of mushrooms until starting to brown. Add some parsley, or thyme, or tarragon, or some other herb if you have any (something dried will do). Tip in a pack of lentils (the ones I have are 250g), and stir till heated through. Some cream, creme fraiche, cheese, or truffle oil might be nice.

Stir-fry greens (cabbage-y types are perfect, but broccoli or even something posher, like asparagus, would be good) till wilted and starting to brown, then season with soy or fish sauce, perhaps a little dried chilli, and some toasted sesame oil. Stir through a pack of either plain rice, or something that already reckons it's a bit chinese-flavoured. The Tilda ones are pretty non-msg-ed, I find.

If you don't even have any leftover veg, but you do have some yoghurt, then crush a clove of garlic into it. Serve on the side of a mixture of a drained tin of chickpeas and, again, either plain rice or an indian/middle-east flavoured one.


Finally... there are very few meals which can not be transformed into luxurious treats by the addition of a few drops of truffle oil. Suddenly, you are no longer a stressed, rushed, lonely diner, but someone who is simply choosing to eat alone because they like their own company. I think, if you were to take away everything in my cupboards, and leave me with only one item, truffle oil would be it.

Wednesday 4 May 2011

Thai prawns and mushrooms

I was going to make this for dinner: Spicy Prawn Soup. I never make soup for dinner, but after my success with the last kinda-soup, I figured I may as well try another.

Of course, I chickened out at the last minute. To be fair, I'd had soup for lunch, and there's only so many semi-liquid meals a girl can consume in a day. But I'd already bought the mushrooms (all the other ingredients are storecupboard/freezer regulars for me), and, as the boy is allergic to them, they had to be consumed tonight. So I changed the soup into a stir-fry.

A warning about curry pastes before you attempt this. Heat varies between brands. I used M&S's Red Thai Curry Paste in this, because I know it's coconutty and mild (and I highly recommend it if you can get your hands on it, inauthentic as it probably is). I've tried Bart's before and it is about three times as hot. Others might be even stronger. I know I can get away with stir-frying a couple of tablespoons of this paste, with nothing added to temper the heat, and not blow my head off. I'd suggest either: a. using a brand you know well and are happy with the heat of, or b. standing ready with vast quantities of coconut milk to temper it down (and turn it into the soup I didn't want in the process).


Thai Prawn and Mushroom stir-fry

125g pack Shiitake mushrooms (this is the size Tesco's sell them in; 40g or so either way doesn't make a big difference. If you can't get hold of shiitakes, just use normal button mushrooms.)
7 or 8 raw tiger prawns (defrosted if frozen)
2 tbs Red Thai curry paste
75g dried rice noodles (or other noodles, but thin rice noodles are my favourite.)
tbs lime leaves, or zest of one lime
tbs fish sauce (nam pla)

This is basically a construction jobby, so get everything ready before you turn on the cooker. Thickly slice the mushrooms, soak or cook your noodles according to the pack instructions (and drain them), and get everything around the hob in easy reach. You could even put things in little bowls if you want to look like you're on the tv.

Once that's done, stick some oil in a wok, and, once hot, tip in the mushrooms. Despite the name of this dish, don't stir them immediately. Leave them to sizzle and turn brown, then stir them and repeat until they are pleasantly brown all over. Move them to one side of the pan.

Place in the prawns, turning them over when they start turning pink (the business of a minute or so). Once pink through, again, push to the side of the pan.

Turn the heat lower, and spoon in your curry paste. It will probably sizzle and might spit a bit, so stand back. Give it 30 seconds, then stir everything in the pan in together. Add the lime leaves/zest and fish sauce, and a drop or two of water if it's looking dry. Stir again, add the noodles, and give everything a final toss together.

Eat.

(With chopsticks if you're pretentious. I am.)