Bread, by Dean Brettschneider

I’ve become obsessed with baking bread. People have asked me whether it is just a phase and it has made me wonder. But I think that it is something that we’ll do forever. The process of kneading, proving, baking, carving, toasting and eating is becoming second nature. And the bread itself is getting more interesting, more consistent and occasionally experimental. When we go away on holiday I take the starter with me so long as we aren’t flying. And when we do fly, I just hope it survives the break in the fridge.

My regular loaf is a rye loaf mixed with strong white flour with a handful of pumpkin seeds and occasionally some caraway. It’s really easy and the fact that it is quite rye heavy makes it quite easy to prove and bake. It’s a little stalwart. It’s neat and reliable. And it toasts beautifully. I just use Dan Lepard’s Rye and Barley recipe from his Handmade Loaf book (250g starter, 300g strong white flour, 200g rye flour, 300g water).

So when I got an email asking if I’d like to review a bread baking book I was rather excited. Bread by Dean Brettschneider, published by Jacqui Small is a very attractive book. The photography is stunning in a way that many baking books are not. And the instructions from Dean Brettschneider are very clear and authoritative. Although they differ at times from what I’ve learned from Dan Lepard, they give you confidence that you are doing things right.

The first loaf that jumped out of me from Brettschneider’s book was his Dark German Rye Loaf. One glimpse of this Onyx loaf took me straight back to our communal breakfasts in Sweden where we would slather sweet mustard on black rye bread with a slice of Vasterbotten cheese and some smoked ham.

These dark breads, for me, are doughy nirvana. They go deep where our English white sliced barely scratches the surface. They are the polar opposite of baguette and speak to a completely different world view. A philosophy of perseverance; resilience; slowness; hard graft; depth; gnarly character; and satisfaction.

I followed the recipe to the letter and was rewarded with the best loaf I have baked to date. It is fabulous fresh or even better toasted with marmalade, smoked mackerel pate, slices of hard cheese or, heroically a slice of salted butter to contrast against the darkness.

His trick is to soak rye flakes and sunflower seeds in hot water separately from the dough mixture. And to add cocoa to rye sourdough dough mixture which is surprisingly heavy on strong white flower. Grate in some carrot. Add some malt extract, some salt and some more water and then combine after a few hours of proving. It works like a treat. Just make sure you allow it to cool properly before giving in to carving it. This will allow the dough to 'set' and not tear when you carve it.

I’ve since experimented with replacing the warm water that the grains are soaked in with coffee which has led to even darker breads with even more flavour. If you do go down the coffee route, you need to add a bit of extra malt extract or honey to counteract the bitterness. And Edwin inspired replacing the rye flakes with Dorset Cereal Muesli which worked very well too. The raisins and nuts made it a great breakfast loaf.

Dean’s white sourdough loaf recipe is also a corker. Where I’d previously struggled with my dough sticking to the bannetons and less airiness that I’d hope for, Dean’s recipe has yielded nothing but fluffy, loaves with big bubbles and lots of flavour. One of his best tips is to make sure your starter has been greedily fed 8 hours before baking. I've found this has turbo charged my loaves.

If you are serious about baking bread, I can recommend Bread, by Dean Brettschneider wholeheartedly.

Mark Hix’s Vivid Soups

With my mind wondering down a Swedish memory lane, I remembered a couple of vivid soups I made from Mark Hix’s Oyster and Chop House cookbook during the fleeting but magical Gothenburg summer.

The book itself is a beauty to look, charming to fondle, fun to read but frustratingly dilute when it came to the subject of the Chop House part of the idea. Sure, the meat was beautifully photographed and well annotated with interesting commentary and the odd recipe, but where it could have been a seminal T-Bone, it seemed bashed out like a minute steak. If you want a masterclass in meat and generally chop-housery, opt instead for HFW’s The River Cottage Meat Book, Hawksmoor At Home or the Ginger Pig Meatbook. But then again, maybe Hix thought it had been done already.

Rather perversely, Mark Hix’s book comes into its own in the less meaty sections. His chicken livers on toast recipe is a beauty and his fennel salad dressed with orange juice and vinegar is very good too if you ease off on the rape seed oil. And his fish with peas and leaks is delicious.







But, the best two things I’ve cooked from his book are a couple of punchy soups which seem to capture his bold, mischievous and blokey personality to a soupy T.

The first was golden beetroot soup, which captured my attention as it was supposed to, because the golden coloured beetroot was intended to trick your dinner guests. This bright yellow soup looked like butternut squash, or possibly a saffron spiked courgette soup, but tasted earthily of the very essence of beetroot. Arguably even more so than if it was red. I've since sown some golden beetroot seeds and hope to recreate this soup back in London with my own vegetables.

The second was for a horseradish soup which almost blew my head off as I grated the fresh root in my Magimix. Even with a topping of walnut floaters and a dab of goats’ cheese it was explosive.

If you like your soup to be vibrant, exciting and a conversational hand grenade, this one is for you. But if you like your potage to be further towards the potato or broccoli end of the spectrum you may want to give this one a wide birth and go for the golden beetroot version. Soupifying the horseradish only seems to make it even more psychopathically strong – and using golden beets seems to make them even more beetrooty.

Chilled Golden Beetroot Soup:

Ingredients:

400g golden beetroot
Salt and pepper
Olive oil
1 chopped onion
1 litre of vegetable stock

Method:

Mark Hix suggests boiling the beetroot. But I much prefer to bake them in salt as they seem to emerge sweeter. Allow to cool and then peel and chop them into chunks.





Sweat the onion in the hot oil in a large saucepan. Once softened, add the stock. Bring to the boil and simmer for an hour. Then add the chopped beetroot and remove from the heat.





Blend it until smooth. Pass it through a sieve to make it super silky.

Chill.

Either serve on its own. Or with some goats' cheese or curd floating on top. Or a swirl of cream. Or if you are feeling a bit Swedish, with some grated horseradish on top.






Horseradish Soup:

Ingredients:

50g butter
1 chopped onion
1 chopped leek
1 tablespoon of flour
1.5 litres of vegetable stock
Salt and pepper
100g grated horseradish
1-2 tablespoons of double cream

Method:

Melt the butter in a large saucepan. Sweat the onion and lieek and cook without colouring for a few minutes. Stir in the flour to make a roux and add the stock gradually. Season and simmer for 30 minutes.

Next do the fun part. Grate your horseradish using the grater attachment on your Magimix. Or just do it by hand. The hit of horseradish is one of the most intense experiences I've ever had whilst cooking. So watch out!



Add the grated horseradish to the soup and simmer for 5 or 10 minutes. Take off the heat and then blend until smooth. Pass it through a sieve for extra smoothness.

Check for seasoning add the cream, heat up and serve.

Salt Roast Beetroot with Orange and Ginger Sauce

My beetroot fetish is getting out of control. Like an alcoholic slipping a slug of vodka into his orange juice at breakfast time and a dash of whisky into his coffee on the way to work, I’ve found beetroot weedling its way into burgers, meatball, salads, gnocchi and souffles recently. When I wake up with beetroot ice cream slathered over my chest I’ll know it’s got the better of me.

One of my favourite discoveries since moving to Sweden has been a very stylish cookery book called Aquavit by a Swede called Marcus Samuelsson with an Ethiopian background who now lives and cooks in New York. It’s full of imaginative ideas that set the mind thumping and photographs that make you want to tear off the page and serve it for supper. His recipe for roasted beets in an orange and ginger sauce set off my beetroot radar and wouldn’t let me go until I had cooked it.



Roasted Beets in Orange-Ginger Sauce – from Aquavit cookbook review on Amazon.

Serves 4 to 6

“Roasting beets on a bed of salt keeps them moist and flavorful (you can do the same with baked potatoes). Garlic roasts alongside the beets, then the soft garlic pulp is added to a tangy citrus sauce flavored with traditional Swedish seasonings.

Ingredients

About 2 cups coarse salt
8 medium beets, trimmed and scrubbed
2 heads garlic
1 cup freshly squeezed orange juice
1 cup Chicken Stock
1 tablespoon honey
1 3-inch piece ginger, peeled and finely chopped
4 cardamom pods
1 tablespoon finely chopped fresh tarragon

1. Preheat the oven to 350ºF.

2. Spread a layer of coarse salt on a small baking sheet and place the beets and garlic on it. Roast for 45 minutes to 1 hour, or until the beets are fork-tender and the garlic is soft enough to squeeze out of the skin; the garlic may be done before the beets. Remove from the oven and let cool slightly.

3. Meanwhile, combine the orange juice, stock, honey, ginger, and cardamom in a medium saucepan, bring to a simmer, and simmer for about 30 minutes, until reduced by half. Strain the sauce into a saucepan and set aside.

4. When the beets are cool enough to handle, peel them and cut them into 1/2-inch dice. Put in a medium bowl. Separate the garlic cloves, squeeze the garlic pulp out of the skins, and add to the bowl.

5. Reheat the sauce over low heat, stirring a few times, and pour the sauce over the beets. Garnish with the tarragon and serve.”





I roasted some chicken legs along side the beetroot and boiled some cracked wheat to add some ballast. It was healthy, tasty, creative and slaked my beetroot thirst for another day. The tangy orange and ginger sauce is incredibly moreish and would be a great complement to a pork chop or duck breast. And having discovered roasting beets on a bed of salt from Marcus Samuelsson, I've not cooked beetroot any other way since. It keeps them moist, full of flavour and stops them losing their colour.

Nordic Beetroot Burgers with Goats’ Cheese and Walnut Salad

I’ve developed a bit of a beetroot fetish since moving to Sweden. I find it’s always on my shopping list and seems to leave its scarlet mark on almost every dish I cook. I love the muddy flavour and mellow sweetness and would be very sad if there was ever a world shortage of beetroot. One of the reasons I like it so much now is that I used to hate it when I was younger. I’ve got bitter-sweet memories of hating the overly pickled taste of my grandmother’s beetroot but loved the fact that it came, covered in sandy soil, from their kitchen garden. Now, whenever I eat beetroot I remember my grandparents and their staggering vegetable patch and hanker after having one of my own one day.

Veggie burgers have a very bad press. They normally fall apart and taste more of old oil than of anything pleasant. It strikes me as a shame to mush up lots of lovely vegetables and then muddy the fresh flavours in search of the juicy glory of a really meaty burger. But the beauty of beetroot burgers is that they are singularly focused on one vegetable that responds very well to being “burgered up”. I guess it’s a combination of their vivid flavour and colour, but also the fact that beetroot’s starches caramelise nicely when seared, much like meat does.

This recipe for the burgers is from Trina Hahnemann, but without any ghastly rapeseed oil and rather than a barley salad is paired with a goats’ cheese and walnut salad instead. My only question is what are the mystery seeds in the photo from the book at the top of this post because they don’t appear in the recipe?

Ingredients:

For the beetroot burgers:

500g red beetroot, grated
100ml porridge oats
3 eggs
1 shallot, very finely chopped
4 tbsp finely chopped dill
2 tbsp finely chopped thyme
2 tbsp finely chopped parsley
Salt and freshly ground pepper
1 tbsp vegetable oil, for frying
Crème fraiche and dill dollop

For the salad:

Mixed leaf salad including beetroot tops
Goats’ cheese
Toasted walnuts
Honey, mustard, olive oil and balsamic vinegar to dress

Method:

Peel the beetroot and then finely grate. If you have a Magimix I’d suggest you use it as it saves a lot of time.

Mix the grated beetroot with the eggs, porridge oats, herbs, seasoning and shallots. Get your hands dirty and work it all together. Then chill in the fridge for an hour or so. This is important as it allows the mixture to mingle and means that the burgers have more structural integrity.



Form the burgers into patties and fry until they are crisp on the outside and then finish in the oven for 20 minutes.



Assemble the salad, and whisk up the dressing whilst the burgers are cooking through and serve with a dollop of dill crème fraiche.



I’ve got a feeling they would also work well as “beet-balls” but I’m not sure yet what sauce to slosh on top of them. If you’ve got any ideas, let me know.

Delicious. Healthy. And different. Well done, again, to The Nordic Diet.

This post is part of little series dedicated to The Nordic Diet cookbook which was sent to me by Quadrille.

Super Healthy Fish Cakes

If meatballs are the indulgent Yin then fish cakes must be the healthy Yang in Scandinavian culture. In Sweden, fish cakes are called “fiskbulle”, which literally translates as “fish patty”, which is a rather unpleasant sounding expression that doesn’t do them justice. They are so ubiquitous that you can buy them in tins and there are as many fish cake recipes over here as there are for sausages back in Blighty.

In my experience fish cakes are normally heavy on the stodgy potato and light on the fish which yields one of the most bland mouthfuls you will ever come across. They’re a great way of padding out a pub menu and making a few quid out of some iffy leftovers. But these prejudices were shattered when I tried Trina Hahnemann’s recipe for fish cakes in The Nordic Diet cookbook.



She switches mashed potato for porridge oats, grated courgette and carrot which lightens the texture and adds colour and moisture. I took the recipe a bit further by trying Niamh’s trick or coating the patties in breadcrumbs which created a crisp coating if you are feeling a bit more indulgent. And I can’t stand rapeseed oil so used sunflower oil instead. The book suggests pairing the fish cakes with potatoes and asparagus which would have been great but all I had was some barley and kale which was a shame.

Ingredients – makes 6 fishcakes

500g of minced fish – a mixture of salmon and white fish such as pollack, coley or ling
1 tsp salt
2 tbsp porridge oats
2 egg whites
2 finely grated carrots
1 grated courgette
Pinch of thyme
Sunflower oil for frying
Knob of butter
Japanese panko breadcrumbs
Pepper

Method

Choose your fish judiciously and have it minced. You don’t want anything too classy or endangered like cod or haddock. But try to include some salmon as much for colour as flavour. In Sweden they are very happy to mince your chosen fish in front of you in the fishmongers and very often have it pre-minced in pre-weighed bags. But in the UK you may want to finely mince the fish with a sharp knife or give it a very brief pulse in a food processor.

Add a generous pinch of salt and a grind of pepper. Then add the egg whites, porridge oats and grated veg and mix thoroughly. It should all come together and not fall apart. If it’s too dry add egg white. If it’s too wet add oats. Leave it to chill in the fridge for an hour or so.

When you are ready for dinner remove the mixture from the fridge and form into patties. If you are feeling indulgent pour breadcrumbs on a chopping board and press the patties into them so they stick. Then fry until golden.







The fish cakes were moist, lightly textured and full of fishy flavour. Not cloying at all and far lighter than their cousins from across the North Sea. The substitution of potato for carrot and courgette makes them far better for you as well according to the principles of The Nordic Diet. I had them with a minty yoghurt sauce and nutritious but very dull barley and kale splodge which is all I had in the fridge.

The yoghurt was a good match but the greens and grain were anything but. A fennel and caper salad would have been a much better platefellow. You could also experiment with adding ginger, chilli and lemongrass to the mix to give them an oriental aspect and pair them with some steamed Chinese cabbage and stir fried vegetables. But whatever you do, don’t think you can substitute fresh fish for tinned mussels and smoked mackerel, courgettes for Swede or consider using rapeseed oil because I’ve tried it and it tastes pretty gross!



This post is part of little series dedicated to The Nordic Diet cookbook which was sent to me by Quadrille.

Embracing The Nordic Diet

One of the things that strikes you when walking around Gothenburg isn’t the stunning beauty of the city, or the overwhelming sight of gorgeous Swedes. It took me a while to work it out. It was an absence rather than a presence. And then I realised as I bumped into a fat person. Fatties are rare in Sweden. So much so that you land up staring at them and joking about whether they are Americans! Sure you see some big people. But they tend to be big boned Vikings rather than lardy layabouts.

A confluence of events spurred me into changing my diet to be more Scandinavian – my shirts were uncomfortable, I found myself wearing jumpers the whole time and I saw a sickening photograph of myself on a beach. And then, as if the fat Gods were watching, a nice person from Quadrille sent me a copy of The Nordic Diet. Initially I was sceptical and scoffed at the idea of a book with the word “diet” in the title. But then I did some background reading and cooked a couple of recipes… and now I am scoffing at myself for scoffing in the first place.

The Nordic Diet, by Trina Hahnemann, is inspired by the fact that the Nordic countries have very low levels of obesity. It stands to reason, therefore, that the dietary patterns of this part of the world might play a role. As you can imagine there’s plenty of debate because it is so hard to prove, but it is being championed by Arne Astruo from the University of Copenhagen who have put £12million behind it. Nutritionists are touting it as a more suitable alternative for Brits than the rather expensive and tricky Mediterranean diet which calls for lashings of olive oil, tomatoes and fresh fish. The Daily Mail says, “Nutritionists even predict the Viking diet could be to the 21st century what the Mediterranean diet was to the 20th.”

The Nordic Diet echoes the Mediterranean Diet’s slow approach to eating but takes things a few steps further by suggesting that we cut down our meat intake and instead eat more lean game, berries, brassicas, fish, vegetables and ancient grains that release their energy stores more slowly and provide more fibre.

Given that meat is expensive in Sweden and that the fish is so fresh, I’ve found myself naturally synching with this Nordic approach to eating. It’s left me feeling healthier, a stone or two lighter, less impoverished and far more appreciative of good meat when I eat it. It’s also led to me discovering new dishes and has encouraged me to experiment more with vegetables and grains like beetroot, kale and spelt. The only weird thing about it is that none of my Swedish friends have ever heard of it!



Trina Hahnemann’s book is an inspirational foundation for living a healthier, more balanced life. The opening section explains the nuts and bolts of the “diet” which is as much about lifestyle as it about hardcore nutrition. The book then continues to offer ideas for salads, soups, fishy and meaty main courses as well as puddings and solid advice about Scandinavian baking. I’ve tried many of the ideas in the book such as delicious beetroot burgers, roast chicken with rhubarb, fabulous fish cakes and fish wrapped in cabbage leaves and will be sharing these dishes with your shortly.









My only criticisms are that there aren’t enough recipes and that every now and again they aren’t quite as exciting as they could be. But that’s the flip side of a diet book I guess. But I can’t criticise the amount of flavour the recipes deliver given the simple ingredients they involve. So as well as sharing my experiences with Trina’s recipes I am also going to give a few ideas of my own that are based on the principles of The Nordic Diet but with a few twists. In the meantime, if you are feeling a bit podgy and are keen for a culinary adventure rather than lots of cut backs, then join me in embracing The Nordic Diet.

Thanks to Quadrille for the book and for helping me fit into my old wardrobe. And I hope these photos of the book's wonderful photos aren't some horrific breach of copyright!

Further reading:

Collection of Nordic Diet links on my Delicious feed
Trina Hahnemann's Scandinavian Kitchen on Amazon
Trina Hahnemann's The Nordic Diet on Amazon

Tricolour Carrot Tagliatelle with Orange Zest, Coriander Seeds and Scallops

This started out as a healthy experiment that worked well in principle but wasn’t quite right taste wise and evolved into a dish I’m really proud of. Inspired by the success of making salsify tagliatelle I thought it would be fun to do something similar with carrots. But whereas the creamy seafood sauce worked wonders with the salsify thanks to the white root vegetable’s oystery taste, my horseradish carbonara was best consigned to the compost bin.





But rather than give up I mulled things over, invested in some multi-coloured carrots and had a look in my Flavour Thesaurus. Prior to peeking inside, I had wondered whether orange and a Middle Eastern spice might work well and was delighted when I stumbled across the fact that Niki Segnit recommends both orange and coriander seeds as two great flavour combinations to throw at carrots. So I thought, what the hell, let’s try both. And then threw some scallops in as well to turn it into a proper meal.



Ingredients:

A bunch of peeled, long, multi-coloured carrots
Coriander seeds
2 oranges
4 scallops
Red chilli
Salt
Pepper

Method:

Using a vegetable peeler, cheese slicer or mandolin, shave your carrots into thin strips. Then cut all these carrot strips into tagliatelle width slithers. You’ll be left with a bowl of raw carrot tagliatelle.



Squeeze the two oranges into a pan and reduce the juice with a tea spoon of honey and some crushed coriander seeds. Add the zest of half an orange and check to see it all taste vibrant. I added a touch of chopped red chilli as well for good measure, but you needn’t if you don’t fancy it.

Then boil the carrots briefly in salted water. And sear your scallops having seasoned them first.

Add the carrots to the sauce and combine. Serve in a bowl. Season. And then add the scallops on top. Then gasp at how beautiful, healthy and delicious this is. It may not be a traditional bowl of pasta. But it’s certainly strikingly different.



If you've got any thoughts about flavours and sauces that could accompany carrot tagliatelle please let me know...

Further reading (beware it's all a bit health foody):


Griddled salmon with carrot spaghetti
Carrot spaghetti with green pesto
Carrot tagliatelle with almond garlic and brocoli

Cowi-lenghi

As sad as it may sound, salads really do excite me. When made properly they ooze creativity and can be as saintly or sinful as you like. Salads are vastly underrated and whilst the sun is shining its little heart out during these summer months, Browny and I have decided to embrace the noble salad for what its worth.

Whether a salad is hot or cold, meaty or fishy, full of grains or pulses, veg or fruit, spicy or cooling, for me, the combination of freshness, lightness, differing flavours and textures can only be a good thing. Plus if you're lucky, if you delve the serving tongs into the bottom of the salad bowl, token goodies will always come out of hiding.

It was a glorious sunny Friday lunchtime when I was introduced into the world of Ottolengi. How on earth had I a) not heard of this venture before and b) why hadn’t I feasted my taste buds on their fantastic grub until now!

As I walked into Ottolenghi on Motcombe Street in Belgravia my eyes were on stalks as I took in all the marvels in front of me, not to mention the incredible but wicked looking pastries, bakes and meringues. On this occasion I was so absorbed by the food I ordered a majority of the salad selection in front of me, plus a delightful and tasty salmon kebab, the bill was embarrassingly large, especially owing to the fact that I wasn’t paying.

I craved more Ottolenghi action and wasted no time in ordering their superb cook book. We were in for a treat. With my new book in hand I trawled Sainsbury’s to find all the vital ingredients... this was only 60% successful and was tipped off by Helen that the recipes must be followed word for word. To accompany two delicious rainbow trout I decided a selection of salads would work nicely. Once I had finally decided which salads to prepare I set to work on supper.

Now, its fair to say that I am somewhat of a nerd when it comes to a tidy kitchen and spotless work surfaces. If I have finished using a knife.. I wash it up. If I have chopped up an onion, I put the remnants and its skins straight into the bin.. But not on this occasion. The Ottolengi recipes require so many processes and ingredients to create the tasty wonders, my kitchen looked like a child’s playroom in no time. But it was so worth it. Here is the evidence:





Scorched broccoli with nuts, garlic and chilli



Pomegranate, fennel and goats cheese salad



Bulgar wheat with orange zest and tomato



Aubergine salad with pomegranate, spinach and saffron yoghurt



Baked trout with lemon and herbs

I urge everyone to go out a buy this beauty. It’s exciting, different, creative and believe or not, healthy!

Spooning with Rosie - Book Launch

Brixton was at its best on Saturday. Buzzing with energy. Warm. Optimistic. And full of cheer. The market was bustling and Franco Manca had a queue the length of a how long I imagine a piece of string is. Wild Caper was overflowing with people and the sound track to Pretty Woman was blaring out of the hair dresser opposite the butcher on Electric Lane.

We pottered into Rosie's not knowing quite what to expect from the launch of Spooning with Rosie and settled down outside with a cup of tea and an espresso and realised that the world is a pretty cool place. We'd arrived just as Rosie, her Mum and the rest of her team were busy getting everything ready. So we landed up helping out by moving a few tables and chairs which just added to the charm.



Just as I was draining my coffee a cool looking woman with short dark hair wheeled along what looked like an old granny trolley and proceeded to set up a one man DJ stand playing the perfect Brixton book launch soundtrack.



We bought a book from Rosie's Mum and were delighted that Rosie signed it.





Apart from the fact that it's got one of the best titles ever to adorn a book, it's full of brilliant recipes that are loved by the locals who adore Rosie's Delic Cafe. What I love about it is the fact that it is clearly such a labour of love. It completely reflects Rosie's personality and is a joy to read. I've also falled head over heals for the illustraions and love the fact that it is based in Brixton. Favourite recipes include scrambled eggs with chilli sauce and all sorts of delicious risottos, pies and sandwiches. I've got my eye on quite a few recipes to try out. It's also inspired me to want to write a book.

We spent ages chatting, nibbling on incredible sandwiches made with ciabatta baked in Franco Manca's ovens and gorging ourseves on cupcakes. It's a brilliant place that is full of warmth and creativity. If you can show me a cafe that's better, I'd love to see it.







Rosie's website
Rosie's blog
Rosie on Twitter
Spooing with Rosie on Amazon