festive carrot soup

Nigel Slater first turned me on to the pleasures of a simple soup of carrot and onion, with a bit of cayenne pepper. But today, I'm not really in the mood for cayenne - I want something softer, sweeter, more perfumed. Something festive - dare I say it - Christmassy. I'm going with a bit of allspice and ground ginger in my carrot soup.

Christmassy Carrot Soup
(serves 2)

500 g carrot, grated
3 medium onions, sliced thinly
3 tbsp oil
1 litre hot stock
1 1/2 tsp allspice
1 1/2 tsp ground ginger
2 bay leaves
salt and pepper
300 g stale wholemeal bread, cubed
20 sprays of olive oil

Heat the oven to 200 C. On a foil-lined baking tray, spray the cubed bread with olive oil and season well. Allow the croutons to bake for 40 minutes, shaking the tray halfway through.

Heat 2 tbsp of olive oil in a large pan over medium heat. Add the onions and allow them to saute for about 5 minutes. Add the carrot and the remaining tbsp of oil and let them sweat down for a few more minutes.

Add the ginger, allspice and bay.

Add 3/4 of the stock and bring the soup just to a boil, then reduce to a simmer. Season and allow to simmer for about 15 minutes.

Remove the bay leaves, then use the hand blender to puree the soup. Then, slowly adding the last 1/4 of a litre of hot stock, puree it again, giving the mixture a smoother consistency.

Take the croutons out of the oven and allow to cool.

Serve the carrot soup with the croutons mixed in the soup. It should take on a lovely, almost porridgey consistency. It will be lovely, I promise!

hippity, hoppity, Easter's on its way...

The tower of chocolate eggs is likely growing ever taller, and come Sunday, the chocolate-eating will be stopped only by a roast dinner. There’s no hope of escaping Easter Sunday without a belly-ache or the belly growing ever wider.

Wait, don't despair - I think there is a chance.

I’m happy to indulge in a bit of Easter chocolate fun, and it’s easier than ever to get higher-quality chocolate eggs, like Green & Blacks among others, but actually, I prefer to skip the packaging and go straight to the bar. You get more for your money anyway!

On to the dinner: the goal of Easter dinner in my opinion, is to serve an excellent main course along with veggies infused with lots of spring flavours. That may not be so easy this year, with Easter arriving so early (though it’s not expected to come this early again until 2160, so don’t worry).

Basically, there will be no asparagus or strawberries at the dinner table this year, but that doesn’t mean there can’t be a spring in your bite. Lemon, mint, parsley and dill will grace the flavours of my table. I'm doing a roast chicken this year (I actually fancied lamb, but it’s that bit too early for spring lamb; then I wanted ham, but it was a no-go from the husband; salmon would have been nice too), with roast sweet potatoes, creamy leeks, minted peas, dilled carrots (the Easter bunny’s favourite) and purple sprouting broccoli.

For dessert, if you’re not gorging on chocolate, my choice would be a carrot cake, though I don’t fancy making one myself, and the store-bought versions often can’t be trusted.

But if you fancy something a bit different, there are lots of “healthy” Easter recipes floating around, and I thought these sounded quite nice:

Herbed yogurt cheese
This would make a great snack if you're having many people to dinner. The recipe calls for 'yogurt cheese' but natural yogurt, allowed to drain, would work fine, as would Quark.

Ham, Gruyere and spinach bread pudding
This is a good alternative should you not want to have roast meat or fish as your main course. It depends on what time of day you're eating, but I like this for an Easter brunch. Plenty of healthy ingredients, and it makes use of egg whites and skim milk where possible.

Minted peas and rice with feta
I've never thought of serving rice of Easter, but why not? I think it would work well as a cold salad too. I've been thinking about making a warm rice salad for awhile now, so you may see something similar to this pop up here later this week.

Smoked salmon tartare
Love, love, love this. And radishes are coming into season as well. And - and! - smoked salmon is reduced in price at all major supermarkets lately, so there must be a glut of salmon coming in. This would work as a fabulous canape or pre-dinner munchie.

Walnut cake with a hint of rosemary
Call me crazy, but I think these cakes are far more preferable to endless handfuls of chocolate. Rosemary is such a wonderfully inspired idea! I imagine biting into the cake and receiving that amazing aroma in my nose.

Carrot cake
In honour of the Easter bunny itself. I adore carrot cake. (I say that now, but I never did as a child. Perhaps this is my mother's influence - she's not a dessert-lover, but has always been partial to a bit of carrot cake.) The recipe doesn't look that simple though, I'm afraid...

In any case, happy Easter to everyone - I look forward to hearing what delights you ate on the day!

a little bit of sole

On the menu tonight is a lovely flatfish called lemon sole, thus named for it’s lemon shape, round in the middle and tapered at the ends. For ages I thought the difference between it and Dover sole was an actual lemon flavour, one that I had convinced myself that I tasted. Looking back, it’s likely that I did taste it, if only because it’s traditional to squeeze a lemon wedge over the top, either before cooking or serving (or both).

In any case, I really enjoy eating it, especially whole, on the bone, though it’s expensive, and more likely to be a treat at a restaurant. At home, the humbler lemon sole fillet shall be prepared – likely, no doubt, with just a squeeze of lemon. It’s a fleshier fish than plaice (also known as flounder), but not as meaty as monkish or halibut (two excellent species of fish).

With this fish, I find that simple is best, and that goes for its accompaniments as well, so tonight I’m using the classic winter vegetable sides of steamed Chantenay carrots (still only 99p in Sainsbury’s – so get them while they’re hot) and purple sprouting broccoli. And for a bit of a twist, I’ll roast whole beetroots. But I think I need something savoury to cut through the sweetness of the carrot and the beetroot. Something that goes well with lemon.

Capers will do nicely – I love how they await their performances so patiently, sitting calmly in their brine in the back of the top shelf of the fridge. A little olive oil and seasoning will bring these little babies to life. And bring some soul to my sole. (Sorry, I couldn't resist)

carrot, celeriac, mushroom, garlic, parsley and feta salad

I've gone and given the boat away in the title, but I think this salad deserves a bit more discussion. I have had it for at least five lunches this week and would happily munch away on it all next week. There's no lettuce or spinach, so it just feels different. The flavours are new and exciting - and perfect for this time of year.

Because there's no lettuce, this salad can be made ahead of time without worrying about whether it will wilt. Actually, I encourage you to make it ahead of time, so the flavours seep in and the celeriac becomes something quite amazing. Then, when putting your lunch together in the morning, simply scooping a bit into a container saves loads of time.

grated celeriac and carrot salad
(makes 2 servings)

1 large carrot, grated
200 g celeriac, grated (about 1/3 of an average celeriac
125 g chestnut mushrooms, sliced
1 large clove of garlic, minced
1 large handful of parsley, chopped finely
50 g reduced fat feta, crumbled
1 tsp olive oil
juice of 1/2 of a large lemon
salt and pepper to taste

Combine all of the ingredients into a large bowl and mix to ensure all of the flavours are evenly distributed. Cover and refrigerate, ideally for at least 2 hours before serving. It will keep for a few days in the fridge.

brightly-coloured salad for a rainy day

Autumn is grey now. Gone are those lovely marigold-tinged and rust-tinted leaves hanging precariously from tree branches. They’re all on the ground now (at least in London), turned to mush by the deluge of rain we’ve had this week.

The only place I’m going to be conjuring up autumn thoughts is in a bowl. It’s not too hard: start with soft green baby spinach, and add some bulgur wheat (100 g, cooked weight, which nets about 110 cals), sliced cooked beetroot (in rounds, which looks great), and that year-round staple, lanky orange carrot, peeled and sliced into thick matchsticks. Top it off with a bit of reduced fat feta (about 25 g crumbled), some freshly-ground pepper, and a capful of white wine vinegar. Divine.

I’ve had this for lunch most days this week, complemented by half a pot of M&S country vegetable soup (in the chilled section, and only 105 cals per half pot!), and loved it each time.

the carrot approach

Another week, another soup. I never tire of them. There are always new combinations or old favourites. Soups are affected by seasonality more than any other dish I can think of, perhaps because it is the essence of the ingredients that make a given soup so memorable.

Carrots are the shining star in this week’s potage. I adore carrots – maybe it’s a kid thing. Being brought up on carrot sticks isn’t all bad. Or perhaps it’s the Bugs Bunny association.

Anyway, I love ‘em, and this carrot-love sent me on a mindless trivia quest. Did anyone know it’s called a gulerod in Danish? And that back in the day (the day being the 1200’s), all carrots that were eaten were purple?

My first experience of carrot soup was carrot and coriander – and way too heavy on the coriander. I may be permanently scarred with regards to this specific recipe.

Second time was a winter carrot soup, inspired by Nigel Slater in one of his Kitchen Diaries. Owing to a cold, I went a “little” too heavy on the cayenne pepper. Scarred again.

This time, I’m keeping it simple. I considered adding thyme, but in the end, I decided that letting the carrot’s full flavour have prominence was best. A scoop of tomato puree backed up the warmth, colour and sweetness of the carrots.

This soup definitely gives butternut squash soup a run for its money. I think with carrot, it’s best not to overspice.

My carrot soup
(serves 2)

3 very large carrots, peeled and grated
1 medium onion, chopped
1 tbsp tomato puree
1 litre of hot chicken stock
1 tbsp olive oil (though less can be used if you are watching the fat content)
plenty of salt and freshly ground black pepper

Heat the oil in a large sauté pan (if it is big enough) or a pot. Add the grated carrot and onion and allow the oil to spread evenly throughout. Sauté over medium heat until the carrots are very soft and the onions are translucent.

Mix in the tomato puree and spread evenly. Turn up the heat and add the stock little by little, allowing the soup to heat back up. Once all the stock is in, bring to the boil and then reduce to a simmer for about 10 minutes. Season well.

After about 10 minutes, use a hand blender to whiz the soup into a fine puree. (If you want a very silky soup for a first course, strain the soup through cheesecloth or a sieve.) Check the seasoning – it likely needs a bit more salt and black pepper. Allow the soup to heat back up, though not to a boil.

Serve immediately in big bowls, perhaps with wholemeal bread.

I actually decided to serve this soup with goats cheese toasts, using the last of my Little Wallop from the cheese festival. Giving it another three weeks to mature has really made the difference – the cheese is no longer understated, but quite strong – with almost a blue note to it. Giving the toast and cheese 3 minutes under a grill results in a rather nice treat.

an orange October

Forget white Christmases, red-hot summers – it is orange October. It may seem a obvious, owing to October’s most (in)famous holiday, Halloween, and the ever-necessary pumpkins that accompany it.

I started thinking about all the good orange-coloured foods out there after a friend once told me that her child refused to eat anything that was not orange. It could be worse, I thought: the child might only prefer blue foods, and other than blueberries and stilton, he would be relegated to a preservative-filled life of E numbers.

Even red does not leave much choice: apples (but only on the outside); red meat (only when uncooked); and the not-seasonal-for-long cherries.

Green would likely be the food colour of choice should I have to pick one for myself.

Overall, though, orange is not such a bad colour, especially in October. Pumpkins, squashes and carrots fill the shop shelves. Oranges , never in season in the UK , are nonetheless a healthy choice. Orange bell peppers reach the tail end of their season around now.

Here’s my stab at an all-orange October feast:

Starter course:
Carrot and thyme soup

It’s got to be carrot soup. Scarily easy, it involves grating a bit of carrot, chopping a bit of onion and adding stock. Plenty of spices complement carrot: the classic coriander, the fiery cayenne and (my choice this time) the fragrant thyme.

Main course:
Grilled paprika chicken breasts and roasted butternut squash chunks

Okay, I have cheated slightly by colouring the chicken breasts a deep burnt orange colour. However, I certainly find it a preferable option to any artificial food colourings.

Spray the butternut squash with olive oil and roast in a 200 C oven for 45 minutes.

I would be tempted to add some sautéed spinach, although it is not orange, to round out this course.

Dessert:
Oranges soaked in Grand Marnier and served with crème fraiche

Italians traditionally serve oranges like this in a small soup bowl. I recommend keeping the wedges intact, soaking them in the liquor overnight and removing them before serving. Crème fraiche – or vanilla ice cream – tempers the strong alcohol twist.

An alternative option should Grand Marnier be too expensive a purchase or children are present at the meal: mango sorbet.

Even if I’ve gone slightly overboard with the orange there, I still believe it can be a fun – and healthy – way to experiment with food. If your child only likes orange, so be it… with a little preparation, he will be truly satisfied (and likely have great eyesight).

japanese soup

On Friday night, after a few pints, we headed to a sushi joint in Mile End for some food before heading home. It wasn't great, unfortunately (the fish smelled a little too, well, fishy). But the teppanyaki noodle dish we ordered tasty and spicy.

After fishcakes this afternoon, a Japanese noodle soup just felt right: simple, cleansing, natural.

Japanese noodle soup
(serves 2)
2 blocks of fine egg noodles
1 large carrot, julienned
1 large courgette, sliced into rounds and quartered
1 bunch of spring onions, sliced diagonally
1 small head of broccoli, chopped
1 tsp olive oil
1 tsp Swiss Marigold bouillon powder + 1 1/2 litres freshly boiled water
1 tbsp soy sauce
white pepper, to taste
dried chilli flakes, to taste
salt, to taste

Set a small pot of water to boil and cook the egg noodles for 3 minutes.

Meanwhile, heat the oil over a medium high heat in a large pot. Add the courgettes, carrot and broccoli and saute gently. Add a splash of soy sauce.

Drain the noodles and add to the pot, coating the noodles. Add the bouillon powder and water mixture and stir. Add the spring onions and bring to an almost-boil. Stir in the spinach leaves and sprinkle the chilli flakes over the soup. Season to taste. Serve evenly and immediately in large bowls with chopsticks.

Calories: 350 per serving.

This recipe is also great for a quick meal - it literally took me less than 20 minutes. What's more, most ingredients are usually on hand.

Raw peppers and chillis would be great additions to this soup.

sea bass - a bank holiday treat

Saturday in Frinton-on-sea was so lovely that upon waking Sunday morning, we decided to head out again, this time to Kent. We hopped along the north coast of Kent, first stopping in Whitstable, known for its fishing industry. The oysters were flowing and tourists were certainly very happy. We stopped in the fish market on the pier, which was purveying its finest local sea bass and skate. I really wanted to get some sea bass but the knowledge that it would have to sit for at least four hours in the car put me off considerably.

Next stop - Whitstable's next-door neighbor Herne Bay, then off to Reculver, a small village known for its Roman fort and country park. Last, a stop in Westgate-on-sea to dip our feet in the water and look for crabs. No luck.

Upon returning to London, I popped out quickly for some sea bass, which we roasted with spring onions, lime juice and a splash of white wines, and served with baby carrots farmed from Pete's fathers garden and steamed curly kale. The flavours were so fresh and went really well with the French Malbec. We ate on the balcony, soaking in the last few minutes of Sunday sunshine.

Sea bass is an excellent fish with white creamy flesh. It's not particularly low in calories, though, and the serving sizes were quite large - two fish, gutted and headed, were about 600 grams. Each fish would set you back over 600 calories, according to the label. It's not exactly a fish you'd just split in half to serve, though. I saved half of the fish for lunch today with a fresh green salad finished off with a peach. The lime undertones in the sea bass were still there, only just.

holiday soup

5:30 pm. Despite my tiredness from a long week and a bout of illness, I was happy. Why? Well, my holiday had officially begun. Technically, I suppose it doesn't begin until Monday, until I leave for the States, but in my mind I was already on the flight.

But first - packing, cleaning, organising, those oft-forgotten aspects of the holiday. And step 1 for me was cleaning out the refrigerator. My easy solution: make a soup. (I do realise that making a soup is my answer to everything, but I can't help it - soups are great.)

Soups are easy - it takes a lot to mess one up. Even the most simple soup tastes good provided it is seasoned well. But this summer vegetable soup is just perfect.

Summer vegetable soup
(serves 2)

In my refrigerator:
a bag of chantenay carrots (I couldn't resist these luxury carrots last time I was at the shops)
a very oversized courgettes (from my parents-in-laws' garden)
a handful of runner beans (same)
a bulb of fennel (the secret ingredient)
leeks
watercress

Matched with what's in my pantry:
50 g lentils
1.5 litres of stock (either homemade or use Marigold boullion powder)
bay leaves
bouquet garni

Another great thing about these soups is that the quantities are purely optional and depend on the contents of the fridge.

To conjure:

Let the carrots, leeks and chopped fennel stalks and leaves sweat in a large pot with a couple sprays of olive oil for about 10 minutes.

Add the stock (about 1 litre and a half). Add the chopped courgettes, beans and the rest of the fennel. Add in the cupboard spices too, as well as some salt and pepper.

In a separate pot, boil the lentils for 1o minutes, then drain and add to the soup.

Allow the entire soup to simmer for about 30 minutes. Stir in the watercress just before serving.

Garnish with reduced fat sour cream and shredded basil leaves and pepper.

Calories: for 1/3 of the soup, topped with sour cream and basil, served with one piece of toast and 25 g goats cheese: 400 calories

I served this with toast smeared with lovely French goats cheese and sprinkled with pepper. My husband came home later and gobbled up the rest. His compliment? "It's great, you can't even taste the lentils." I'll take it, I suppose.

The one thing I would say about this soup - it's not meant to sit for a long time. The watercress will wilt and the other vegetables will go mushy. But this is what makes it so great - you're cleaning out the fridge and filling yourself at the same time. Plus, it's a one-dish meal, so there isn't much to clean up (Though that's not my job anyway - hey, I did the cooking!)

eating lunch at work

For some, a weekday lunch is the most dangerous meal of the day. Often there's not time for much of a lunch. Or there's only time for lunch at the desk. Or you're meeting friends for lunch. Or colleagues.

It's safest, if you are able to take time for lunch at work, to bring a salad or some leftovers. Sandwiches are gone too quickly. A salad is a good way to get 5-a-day, or even more. I used to vary my salads, but once I found my favorite, it became my stalwart. There's always room for a variation or two:

everyday lunch salad
(serves 1)
50 g baby spinach
5 cherry tomatoes, halved (or 2 tomatoes-on-the-vine, chopped)
1/2 a large carrot, sliced into matchsticks or chopped (approximately 70 g)
2-3 inches of cucumber, chopped or sliced (approx 75 g)
1/4 tin of chickpeas
25 g reduced fat feta
red wine vinegar

Rinse and prepare all the ingredients and combine into a tupperware container.

Calories: 170, which leaves room for a few pieces of fruit as a snack during the day.

Tips for this lunch:
-Add more vegetables if desired, to bulk the salad further - this will help to increase satiety. But CONTROL the portions of cheese and chickpeas. The cheese is a treat, and the chickpeas are there to sustain energy levels for the rest of the afternoon.

-The red wine vinegar is a substitute for an oil-based dressing. With the vegetables, as well as the cheese, there's plenty of flavor there already.

-Substitutes for chickpeas: butter beans, sliced chicken

-Open a tin of chickpeas on Monday: rinse and put into a small tupperware in the refrigerator. Use 1/4 of it each day and the tin will last you most of the week.