Stewed Victoria Plums

I don't know why I decided that stewing fruit seemed like a great idea, but the finished product turned out pretty yummy, so I guess it's a win-win.* This is the second batch I made - the first was too sweet and a little too liquid for my liking.

Top yogurt, ice cream, cakes or other bread products, or even your morning oatmeal with this slightly tart, sweet, complex concoction.

Ingredients

Victoria or Damson plums (or any tart early variety of plum. You don't want them too sweet or the dish will become one-dimensional)
250g sugar per kg of fruit (what this translates to is about 1/8 - 1/4 cup for about 20 fruits, but use your judgement or your sweet tooth)
Vanilla pod

Cinnamon stick

A couple of star anise (optional. But just look at its perfectly symmetrical alien wonderfulness! Don't you want to use it??)

Some orange zest. Yes, about that much. Maybe a little more. (Okay, about 1 tsp. Ish.)

A little splash of orange or grapefruit juice. That's enough!

Water

Method

1. Halve the plums and remove the stones.
   
   
2. Put the plums in a big, heavy pan with the sugar, vanilla pod, cinnamon stick, star anise, zest, fruit juice, and enough water to cover the bottom of the pan.
   
   
3. Heat gently until the juices run, then simmer for 10 to 12 minutes, until the fruit is soft and pulpy. Remove the fruit with a slotted spoon.
   
   
4. Continue to simmer remaining juices and bits until it reduces and thickens, stirring occasionally to prevent scorching.
   
   
5. Cool completely, pick the spices out, pour back over fruit, and serve with yogurt or ice cream. Or heffalumps. Whatever suits your fancy.

*Mini-rant: I wish the people that live along my street would use this recipe or others to cook the fruit that's falling, wasted, in the road and in their yards or turning to little zombie plums and apples and cherries on their trees. It's criminal how much is just left to rot. Starving children in Africa, people! You have a responsibility when you have a good fruit tree on your property to do something with it. Grr!

Maggie's Wise Mashed Potatoes

I really have no comment about these potatoes, except for this: they are so much better than boxed, you'll never go back. I had a moment, in the middle of a very bad day, when it occurred to me that I'd made something Good. Wholesome. Delicious. The sort of food that tastes bad for you but isn't. It certainly helped my mood. This is the sort of side dish where you want to just mound a big lump of it on your plate and call it dinner. Heck, if you want to do just that, go ahead - I won't tell.

Fat-free plain yogurt is your friend here. Don't peel the potatoes to keep the nutrition in the skins.

Ingredients
8 medium red potatoes, washed and scrubbed but not peeled. (I used Red Desiree potatoes. I know I'm lucky in some ways, because there are so many varieties of potato here in England, all cleverly labelled for their best use. These were marked for mash, but I didn't notice 'til after I was cooking them. How fortuitous! In any case, you don't want to use potatoes that are too small and waxy, because you won't get a good texture.)
1 cup fat-free yogurt
1 tbsp butter or margarine
1/2 cup skim milk
3 tbsp fresh sage, finely chopped
3 tbsp fresh rosemary, finely chopped
2 tsp kosher salt or to taste
1 tsp freshly ground black pepper

Method

1. 1. Boil potatoes in salted water until very tender, 20-30 minutes. Drain.

   2. Squish the potatoes into submission using a large fork or a potato masher or your fists, depending on how much catharsis you're needing.

   3. Mix in other ingredients one at a time, adding milk slowly, until it’s the consistency you want.

   4. Adjust seasoning to taste.

   P.S: They're called "wise" because they have a lot of sage in 'em. Get it? Get it?

Hummus is Yummus.

Oh, hummus has been done, you say! EVERYONE knows how to make hummus! Well, not necessarily. I had to look it up the first time I made it. I've experimented a lot with different hummus recipes since then, but I've always come back to this standard. The great thing about this version is that it's a good base palette with which to expand your hummus...er...painting (awkward metaphors are my speciality). Add roasted red peppers, add pine nuts, add cilantro, whatever you wish. This version will sustain a lot. You can also tweak the standard ingredients. The Bald Guy really likes a hummus that's heavy on the tahini and not so much with the lemon, so I adjust accordingly.

It amazes me that hummus has been made for many centuries - and still is being made - without the benefit of food processors. If you feel passionately that hummus should be ground out the old-fashioned way, with a mortar and pestle, then I will admire your powerful arm muscles and smile ingratiatingly.

I've also seen people painstakingly pick the skins off their chickpeas (it's really easy - just pick the chickpea up between thumb and forefinger and squeeze gently. The chickpea will go shooting across the room and you'll be left holding a little translucent skin). This is actually very therapeutic if you like soothing repetitive motion. I've been known to indulge in a little chickpea-skinning, myself. I don't personally think it makes a hill of garbanzos difference to the taste of the hummus, but do as thou wilt.

Oh - and if you're insistent on soaking and boiling dried chickpeas to make your hummus, this little blog is probably not for you.

Adapted long ago from a recipe found on Simply Recipes.

Ingredients

4 garlic cloves, minced and then mashed (or don’t bother, as it’s all going in the food processor anyway)

2 15-oz. cans chickpeas, drained and rinsed

2/3 c. tahini

1/3 c. lemon juice (freshly squeezed is best)

½ c. water

¼ c. olive oil

½ teaspoon salt

1 t. cumin

1 T. paprika

1 t. red pepper (optional)

Garnishes – extra swirl of olive oil, some parsley, toasted pine nuts, more paprika, etc.

1. Do whatever you’re going to do to the garlic. It probably helps to at least chop the garlic so you don’t accidentally end up with crunchy garlic bits. Unless you like that sort of thing.

2. Dump chickpeas, garlic, lemon juice, seasoning, and tahini in a food processor.

3. Whiz for…a while. Say, 3 minutes. With the machine running, add olive oil and water slowly in through the top. Add water last, a little at a time, until the hummus is the texture you want it. Some people like their hummus nice and smooth like a goopy paste, and others like theirs chunky, with bits of chickpea still hanging around.

4. Taste often and adjust seasoning to your preferences. Lick the spatula if necessary. You want to be as scientific as possible about these things and take lots of measurements. Evidence-based cooking!

5. Scoop it all into a pretty bowl, garnish with whatever you want to garnish it with, and serve with pita, cut veggies, olives, etc.

Serves 12, if you’re not piggy about it.

A good idea for a quick light dinner: stir hummus into cooked whole-wheat noodles along with chopped cilantro or parsley, pine nuts, and red pepper. Top with a little shaved Parmesan cheese.

Green beans with fennel & cherry tomatoes

This is what happens when I look in the refrigerator and realize that massive quantities of strange vegetables need to be eaten NOW or we will wake up with whole civilizations of mold and ick taking over the interior of the fridge. Wars won and lost, epic tragedies, joys and heartbreak, played out on the stage of our crisper by rival gangs of Aspergillus, Cladosporium, Fusarium, and Mucor.

So without further ado, I leaped to the task of throwing together a bizarre concoction of "Super fine beans," as Sainsbury's calls them; parti-colored (or party-colored) cherry tomatoes; a bulb of fennel; and some extra fennel leaves (fronds? bits?) that a friend had given us. What appeared was something I didn't expect - a veggie dish that's actually really yummy.

Ingredients
1 lb. fresh green beans
About 1 c. cherry tomatoes, sliced in half (preferably red and yellow)
¼ bulb fennel, thinly sliced
3 T. fresh fennel fronds, finely chopped
1 T. olive oil
1 T. red pepper flakes
salt & pepper to taste

1. Steam the green beans and sliced fennel until the beans are bright green and al dente. Don't actually cook them all the way through - just soften 'em up a bit, because you don't want the heat from the frying to kill the tomatoes before the beans are cooked.
   
   
2. Heat the olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Combine green beans with fennel, tomatoes, and seasonings along with the chopped fennel leaves. Toss gently to coat vegetables in oil. Cook, stirring constantly, until the tomatoes have just softened.

Serve immediately.

Serves 4 as a side dish.

Whole-Wheat Blueberry Pancakes

These pancakes are made disgustingly healthy by using whole wheat flour and a dollop of plain yogurt, which adds richness and piquancy without adding heaviness. I also threw in a tablespoon of wheat germ, just for giggles. Use whatever spices are at hand, or don't use any. I really like the touch of saffron, which provides a little bit of exotic flavor to what could otherwise be...very whole-wheat.

Ingredients

1 1/4 c. flour
2 tsp. baking powder
1 egg
¾ c. milk, plus more if necessary
½ c. plain low-fat yogurt (or use more milk, up to 1 ¼ cup)
½ tsp. salt
1 T. sugar
½ c. blueberries or other seasonal berries

Optional
2 tsp. cinnamon
½ tsp. nutmeg
a few strands of saffron
1 T. wheat germ

1. Sift together flour, baking powder, and optional spices and set aside.

2. Beat together the egg, milk, yogurt, salt and sugar in a bowl.

3. Stir in flour mixture until just moistened, add blueberries, and stir gently to incorporate.

4. Preheat a heavy-bottomed skillet over medium heat, and spray with cooking spray.

5. P

our approximately ¼ cup of the batter into the pan for each pancake. Cook until you see little bubbles in the center and the edges look dry. Turn and continue cooking until golden brown.

Cook's note: You may need to use more milk than 3/4 cup. The batter should be thin enough so that it pours, but not so thin that it's runny. I’ve found that 1/4 cup additional milk is about the maximum needed.

Cheater Vegetarian Chilli

The hardest work in this recipe (if you wish to dignify it by calling it a recipe) is turning the handle of the can opener. This quick vegetarian chilli is perfect for a night when you can't be bothered to pick up the phone to dial Domino's, but you've been feeling guilty about eating a full English breakfast for four days straight whilst on holiday in Salisbury (Ahem. Not that I would know anything about that.) and want to eat a bit healthier.

Ingredients

1 T. olive oil

1 c. diced white onion (I used frozen diced onion for this recipe, which is one of the greatest cook's cheats EVAR. Stock up on frozen diced onions. It will make your life better.)

1 T. minced jarred garlic

2 cans red kidney beans

1 can chick peas

1 can diced tomatoes

1 can yellow corn

1 T. fresh minced hot pepper (because I had it lying around)

Seasoning, to taste: oregano, basil, cumin (goes especially well in chilli), salt & pepper, chilli powder, cracked California bay leaves

• In a large skillet, heat oil over medium-high heat. Add onion and sizzle for about five minutes, until onion is A) no longer frozen (because frozen is not a taste you should go for in chilli) and B) translucent-ish.
• Add garlic and minced hot pepper (if using) and cook, stirring, for another minute or two.
• Meanwhile, open your cans.
• Drain (some people rinse as well) the beans and chick peas and dump 'em in. Drain the corn, too, and toss that in. DON'T drain the diced tomatoes - splosh the whole can in.
• Stir.
• Add the seasoning. A little-a this, a little-a that.
• Pop on a lid to the pan and simmer for about a half-hour, stirring occasionally. If you're getting hungry and the chilli looks too watery, take the lid off and crank up the heat a notch to let the liquid boil off some.
• Serve over brown rice, with grated cheese and a dollop of sour cream or plain yogurt if you're feeling fancy.

This chilli is even better the next day, so make sure you save enough for lunch. Serves at least four.

Sausage, Brown Rice and Leek Frittata

So the Bald Guy and I like to cook a leisurely brunch-type meal on weekend mornings. This morning, as we discussed the various merits of oatmeal versus pancakes while standing huddled in front of the open refrigerator door, I had a Vision - of using leftover brown rice with sausage, egg and leek to create a Sunday Morning Frittata.

I would have gotten a decent photo, but we ate most of the results.

Serves 2 generously, 4 if you're serving other things with it.

Ingredients

About a third of a package of ground sausage, your choice of flavor. I used Jimmy Dean Hot Flavour Pork Sausage
1 c. brown rice (optional, but I like the way it texturizes the frittata and gives it a little more oomph)
4 eggs
Splash of milk
Half a leek - mostly white part, sliced thinly
2 garlic cloves, minced/pressed/squished. Or 1 t. jarred minced garlic (Hey. It's a Sunday morning and I'm lazy.)
Three or four white button mushrooms, sliced
About 1/4 c. dry white wine (optional - you could use white wine vinegar or even cider vinegar if you wanted to. I used a splash of the sauvignon blanc that was sitting on the counter)
Seasoning: I used between 1/2 t. and a teaspoon each of garlic powder, Israeli paprika (which is a little sweeter than Hungarian), black pepper, kosher salt, and cumin (go light on the cumin - it's such a powerful taste!). You could add a little more green in with some parsley flakes or basil, but with the leek and spring onions and sausage already competing for flavors, you don't want to add too much extra stuff.
2 spring onions, green part only, sliced thinly

• Get yer skillet and heat it up to medium-hot. Add in the sausage and cook until browned, breaking up the sausage into crumbles as you cook it.
• When the sausage is cooked, use a slotted spoon or spatula to dump it out of the pan and onto a plate lined with a paper towel (to drain the grease) and set aside.
• Leaving the sausage grease in the pan, dump in your leek and cook, stirring occasionally, for five minutes or so.
• Add the sliced mushrooms and cook another 3-4 minutes, then add the wine and let simmer for 5-6 minutes or until the liquid is mostly absorbed.
• Meanwhile, in a large bowl, whisk the rice, eggs and milk together. Add the seasonings and the sausage and mix until blended.
• When the leek and mushroom is nearly dry (as in, all the moisture from the wine or vinegar has been absorbed), add them to the egg/sausage mixture slowly (you don't want to dump all the hot ingredients in with the eggs at once, because that'll cook your frittata before you're ready)
• Wipe out your pan and add a little more oil to it - I used spray oil.
• Splunk the whole shebang into the pan and cook at medium-LOW heat (you don't want the bottom to get burned) until the top is set.
• Optional: I got tired of waiting for the top to cook while I listened to my stomach growl, so I heated up my broiler and stuck the whole pan under it for about 5 minutes, once the frittata was mostly set. ONLY do this if you're using a skillet that can go from stove top to broiler! Watch it really carefully; I've been known to burn the heck out of a frittata because I got impatient, stuck it under the broiler, and then forgot about it. ALSO (and I know I'm silly with the warnings, but I speak from experience): when you take out the skillet from the broiler, REMEMBER THAT THE HANDLE IS FREAKIN' HOT and use an oven mitt.
• Serve with a little dollop of sour cream and an extra sprinkle of sliced green onion, if you wish. Read the Sunday comics and watch the snow fall. Or frantically write a paper on finance (while procrastinating by writing a foodie blog).