There are some vegetables that strike fear in my heart. Celeriac comes top of the list. I mean, it looks like an Ood (if you’re not a fan of Doctor Who, a) why not?! and b) this is an Ood). That is to say, it’s not an attractive vegetable and so gnarly and strange it’s…
Archives for November 2012
Roasted Shallot, Quinoa and Sun-dried Tomato Salad
Long live the Maillard reaction! Upon the application of heat, the sugars in the shallots caramelise down in to a beautiful toffee buff. They become the perfect counterpoint to the sun dried tomatoes, which I sometimes find a bit too ferric for my liking otherwise. This was a happy-accident dinner salad that is beyond the…
Pistachio and Pinto Bean Casserole
Recently, we did a Listen To Your Body post on eating – you know, recognising your cravings and trying to understand why you’re getting them. If you’re in the northern hemisphere, it’s probably starting to feel pretty wintry for you. That means your body’s telling you to stay indoors and pile on a few pounds,…
Book review: Chi Running
This time last year I was injured. It was a persistent, nagging injury that was causing me no end of grief. I had a pain in my left thigh, which turned out to be a problem with my adductor. Or, to put it more plainly, I had an embarrassing groin strain. Sigh. People sniggered when…
Crispy Baked Cauliflower Cheese
Photo by Zsolt – www.zsoltsandor.com This recipe has been passed down through our family for generations. Not by my mother, who is a wonderful woman but – god love her – not what you’d call much of a cook. No, sorry, I malign her unfairly: she can knock up a 70s-style buffet from nowhere and…
Spiced Rice Pudding
I love rice pudding but often find it sweet and cloying, altogether too reminiscent of school dinners for my liking. This one satisfies my need for a rich dessert without being sickly – the recipe doesn’t use much sugar, with most of its sweetness coming from the raisins. We sometimes forget about desserts when we’re…
Listen To Your Body: Eating
Picture the scene: It’s c1989, Bibi is 3 years old and is sitting at her little foldaway table, drawing (I use the term loosely). ‘Mummy,’ she says, ‘I need a biscuit.’ I look at her quizzically. ‘Please,’ she adds, for she is a polite child. I explain the difference between ‘want’ and ‘need.’ ‘Sweetheart,’ I…