I love caponata. A rich sweet-sour sauce enveloping fried vegetables, swimming in olive oil: I ate plates and plates of the stuff when I was in Sicily last year. I like to think it's relatively healthy, but I hadn't considered that it might be an uber-low-cal recipe for a 5:2 fast day dinner. However, BBC Good Food magazine had a pepper-based caponata recipe which they'd managed to squeeze in under 300 cals, which made me reconsider.
I know it's not essential, but I like aubergines in my caponata, slippery and soft against the crunchy celery. With onion and tomatoes, that's a lot of low calorie but big and filling vegetables. That means you can afford to use an almost-generous amount of olive oil, a whole tablespoon per person. It's therefore worth using a decent oil. Sainsbury's do a Sicilian oil in their Taste the Difference range, which I'm currently working my way through. That would be suitably authentic, but do feel free to use your favourite oil.
Amounts below are precise because this is a calorie counting recipe: obviously, those without such constraints should feel free to add more of whatever (especially the oil) they want.
5:2 Caponata
100g celery stalks, sliced
1 small red onion (mine weighed 125g), finely diced
1/2 tin tomatoes, i.e., 200g
200g aubergine, cut into large chunks
2 tbs capers
1 tbs sultanas
1 tsp dried oregano
1 tbs olive oil
handful basil leaves
Add half the tablespoon of olive oil to a saucepan and heat, before throwing in the celery and onion. Keep it over a medium-high eat so that the onion browns nicely: you want to develop the sugar flavours. After ten minutes or so, the onion should be soft and sweet.
Tip in the tomatoes, aubergine, capers, sultanas, and oregano, together with a generous splash of water, and bring up to a gentle simmer. Pop the lid on and leave for half an hour, by which time the aubergines should be silky.
Remove from the heat and leave to cool slightly. Stir through the remaining half tablespoon of oil, and the basil leaves.
This comes to 350 calories; skipping the final half tablespoon of oil reduces that to 280.
Thursday 19 June 2014
Wednesday 21 May 2014
Red-braised tofu knots
I got into discussion recently with a fellow Oxford foodie, and we ended up on the topic of pop-up restaurants and supperclubs. "What," she asked, "would you cook if you ran a pop-up of some kind?". Oh, Mediterannean, definitely, I replied. I understand Italian and French cuisine in a far deeper way than any other: I'm just not capable of making up, say, a Chinese dish.
This, my friends, is bollocks. For a couple of years now, I've been gradually educating myself about Chinese food (thanks to Fuchsia Dunlop, mainly). I know how to do roll-cuts and horse-ear slices; I know to smack a salad vegetable before tossing it with a dressing; I actually *like* the texture of wood-ear mushrooms, once described as simultaneously slimy and crunchy.
I know the difference between red-braising and red-braising, because this word describes two very different cooking sauces, depending on where in China you are. Sichuan red-braising is fiery, made with a fermented paste of chillis and dried beans. Hunanese red-braising is aromatic and sweeter, made with five-spice, wine, and sugar.
Personally, I'd take the Sichuan version anyday, but with a slightly less chilli-fiend friend coming over for dinner, I decided to take the heretical route and produce a mixture of the two. Best served with rice and a green vegetable of some kind, when it will serve four, or as part of bigger Chinese meal for eight or so.
Red-braised Tofu Knots
2 onions
4 sticks celery
2 tbs Sichuan chilli bean paste
3 tbs hoi sin sauce
1 star anise
1 stick cinnamon
2 tbs light soy sauce
4 tbs shaoxing rice wine
300g dried tofu knots
Finely chop the onions and celery, then saute in a generous amount of flavourless oil (e.g. vegetable or groundnut, not olive), in a large casserole dish, over a low heat for twenty to thirty minutes. They should be soft and faintly translucent and just starting to get golden round the edges.
Turn up the heat a little, chuck in the chilli bean paste, and stir-fry quickly for a few seconds, until the oil in the pan has taken on its red colour. Tip in all the other ingredients, and pour over enough water to easily cover the knots: this will be around 300ml, but will depend largely on the size of your casserole dish.
Bring to a simmer, and then reduce the heat to low, and leave to gently blurp away to itself for a couple of hours. Check occasionally to ensure that there is still enough liquid in the pot to cover the knots: they will absorb the sauce as they cook, so you may need to add more. At the end of that period, remove a tofu knot, to ensure that they are soft through. Check for seasoning, adding more soy if needed.
The dish will very happily sit for an hour, or could even be chilled and re-heated later in the day.
This, my friends, is bollocks. For a couple of years now, I've been gradually educating myself about Chinese food (thanks to Fuchsia Dunlop, mainly). I know how to do roll-cuts and horse-ear slices; I know to smack a salad vegetable before tossing it with a dressing; I actually *like* the texture of wood-ear mushrooms, once described as simultaneously slimy and crunchy.
I know the difference between red-braising and red-braising, because this word describes two very different cooking sauces, depending on where in China you are. Sichuan red-braising is fiery, made with a fermented paste of chillis and dried beans. Hunanese red-braising is aromatic and sweeter, made with five-spice, wine, and sugar.
Personally, I'd take the Sichuan version anyday, but with a slightly less chilli-fiend friend coming over for dinner, I decided to take the heretical route and produce a mixture of the two. Best served with rice and a green vegetable of some kind, when it will serve four, or as part of bigger Chinese meal for eight or so.
Red-braised Tofu Knots
2 onions
4 sticks celery
2 tbs Sichuan chilli bean paste
3 tbs hoi sin sauce
1 star anise
1 stick cinnamon
2 tbs light soy sauce
4 tbs shaoxing rice wine
300g dried tofu knots
Finely chop the onions and celery, then saute in a generous amount of flavourless oil (e.g. vegetable or groundnut, not olive), in a large casserole dish, over a low heat for twenty to thirty minutes. They should be soft and faintly translucent and just starting to get golden round the edges.
Turn up the heat a little, chuck in the chilli bean paste, and stir-fry quickly for a few seconds, until the oil in the pan has taken on its red colour. Tip in all the other ingredients, and pour over enough water to easily cover the knots: this will be around 300ml, but will depend largely on the size of your casserole dish.
Bring to a simmer, and then reduce the heat to low, and leave to gently blurp away to itself for a couple of hours. Check occasionally to ensure that there is still enough liquid in the pot to cover the knots: they will absorb the sauce as they cook, so you may need to add more. At the end of that period, remove a tofu knot, to ensure that they are soft through. Check for seasoning, adding more soy if needed.
The dish will very happily sit for an hour, or could even be chilled and re-heated later in the day.
Wednesday 30 April 2014
Baked Norma
Bellini's opera, Norma, is about a pagan priestess who kills herself having discovered that her Roman soldier lover has betrayed her. Fun. Luckily, pasta alla Norma contains no pagans or Romans, and was named solely thanks to the coincidence that both Bellini and this pasta dish are from Sicily. I hear roasted pagan can be a little tough and tasteless.
This recipe takes the best bits of pasta alla Norma, i.e., everything except the pasta, and then bakes it in the oven until it's all melting together, before dunking garlic bread into it. The ricotta salata is borderline essential. Normal ricotta, feta, or a hard cheese like pecorino can be used instead, but you will get a very different flavour and Sicilians would definitely look down their noses at you.
It's worth knowing that M&S do mini garlic baguettes, ideally sized for the singleton kitchen. Of course, they cost the same as one of Tesco's normal-sized ones, but they really are rather good. Particularly so if you are incapable of not eating the whole of a garlic baguette anyway.
Baked Norma
First, make your tomato sauce:
1 onion, finely chopped
2 cloves garlic, sliced
1 tsp dried oregano
1 tsp sugar
red wine
250g tomato passata
salt and pepper
Fry the onion and garlic in a generous glug of olive oil, over a medium heat, for 20 minutes or so, until softened. Add the oregano and sugar, and turn the heat up so that the onions start to caramelise around their edges.
Add a very generous glug of red wine, and reduce until it's almost non-existent. Tip in the passata and check the seasoning: it will want plenty of salt and pepper, and may want some more sugar, too. Simmer gently for 10 minutes.
Meanwhile, roast the aubergine. Chop a whole aubergine into one-and-a-half inch cubes, pour over a decent (by which I mean indecent) amount of oil, and toss together until the cubes are well-coated. Roast for 30 minutes at 200 degrees celsius.
Tip the aubergine into the tomato sauce and combine. Then grate over 50g or so of ricotta salata, and pop back in the oven to bake for 10 minutes. The cheese should have browned slightly on top; it won't melt so don't worry about that.
Leave to cool for five minutes, unless you want to remove half the skin off the roof of your mouth, and then dunk in some crusty garlic bread.
This recipe takes the best bits of pasta alla Norma, i.e., everything except the pasta, and then bakes it in the oven until it's all melting together, before dunking garlic bread into it. The ricotta salata is borderline essential. Normal ricotta, feta, or a hard cheese like pecorino can be used instead, but you will get a very different flavour and Sicilians would definitely look down their noses at you.
It's worth knowing that M&S do mini garlic baguettes, ideally sized for the singleton kitchen. Of course, they cost the same as one of Tesco's normal-sized ones, but they really are rather good. Particularly so if you are incapable of not eating the whole of a garlic baguette anyway.
Baked Norma
First, make your tomato sauce:
1 onion, finely chopped
2 cloves garlic, sliced
1 tsp dried oregano
1 tsp sugar
red wine
250g tomato passata
salt and pepper
Fry the onion and garlic in a generous glug of olive oil, over a medium heat, for 20 minutes or so, until softened. Add the oregano and sugar, and turn the heat up so that the onions start to caramelise around their edges.
Add a very generous glug of red wine, and reduce until it's almost non-existent. Tip in the passata and check the seasoning: it will want plenty of salt and pepper, and may want some more sugar, too. Simmer gently for 10 minutes.
Meanwhile, roast the aubergine. Chop a whole aubergine into one-and-a-half inch cubes, pour over a decent (by which I mean indecent) amount of oil, and toss together until the cubes are well-coated. Roast for 30 minutes at 200 degrees celsius.
Tip the aubergine into the tomato sauce and combine. Then grate over 50g or so of ricotta salata, and pop back in the oven to bake for 10 minutes. The cheese should have browned slightly on top; it won't melt so don't worry about that.
Leave to cool for five minutes, unless you want to remove half the skin off the roof of your mouth, and then dunk in some crusty garlic bread.
Mushroom-stuffed croissants
When I was finishing off my undergraduate degree, revising for exams, I got into a routine of actually getting to the library around 8.30 in the morning. In case it needs saying, getting up that early is not normal for me. For the first (and, since then, only) time, I really felt I needed breakfast. Breakfast is normally a luxury for me, to be enjoyed on weekends, days off, holidays. Most days I can't face the prospect of fitting a meal in between waking and leaving the house.
I had two options at the tube stop near my house, both of which could easily be eaten on the journey to the library. Number one was a sausage bagel (toasted sesame, no butter, brown sauce), and number two was a mushroom- and cheese-stuffed croissant from Delice de France. I'm pretty sure these wonders no longer exist, so I've been thinking about reproducing them for a while.
The conjunction of a stash of sourdough croissants in my freezer and the start of chanterelle season pushed me over the edge. I used chanterelles because Ocado offered me a bunch with 40% off the price, but you could very easily do this with normal button/chestnut/whatever you have. My sourdough croissants were pretty huge, so you might find this mixture will fill two more normal versions.
Mushroom-stuffed croissant
1 large, or 2 smaller, croissants
80g mushrooms
Generous slice of butter (around 15g, I guess?)
3 tbs single cream
20g grated parmesan
Heat the oven to 200 degrees celcius.
Trim the mushrooms, and slice thinly if you're using normal ones. Melt the butter in a small saucepan, over a high heat; add the mushrooms and fry vigorously for a couple of minutes, until the juices have been extracted and the mushrooms have wilted.
Glug in the cream, stir briefly, and turn off the heat. Tip in the grated cheese and stir until melted.
Slice your croissant(s) on their thick side, making sure not to cut all the way through - i.e. leaving a hinge. Open the croissant up, and gently pull out some of its soft insides.
Stuff the mushroom mixture into the space left, squish the croissant back together, and wrap in foil. Pop into the oven for 15 minutes to warm through the rest of the croissant, and allow the flavour to infuse the whole.
Unwrap and munch. This may require a knife and fork.
I had two options at the tube stop near my house, both of which could easily be eaten on the journey to the library. Number one was a sausage bagel (toasted sesame, no butter, brown sauce), and number two was a mushroom- and cheese-stuffed croissant from Delice de France. I'm pretty sure these wonders no longer exist, so I've been thinking about reproducing them for a while.
The conjunction of a stash of sourdough croissants in my freezer and the start of chanterelle season pushed me over the edge. I used chanterelles because Ocado offered me a bunch with 40% off the price, but you could very easily do this with normal button/chestnut/whatever you have. My sourdough croissants were pretty huge, so you might find this mixture will fill two more normal versions.
Mushroom-stuffed croissant
1 large, or 2 smaller, croissants
80g mushrooms
Generous slice of butter (around 15g, I guess?)
3 tbs single cream
20g grated parmesan
Heat the oven to 200 degrees celcius.
Trim the mushrooms, and slice thinly if you're using normal ones. Melt the butter in a small saucepan, over a high heat; add the mushrooms and fry vigorously for a couple of minutes, until the juices have been extracted and the mushrooms have wilted.
Glug in the cream, stir briefly, and turn off the heat. Tip in the grated cheese and stir until melted.
Slice your croissant(s) on their thick side, making sure not to cut all the way through - i.e. leaving a hinge. Open the croissant up, and gently pull out some of its soft insides.
Stuff the mushroom mixture into the space left, squish the croissant back together, and wrap in foil. Pop into the oven for 15 minutes to warm through the rest of the croissant, and allow the flavour to infuse the whole.
Unwrap and munch. This may require a knife and fork.
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