Bit hot for cooking big old heaping bowls of carbs I hear you say? And seriously, H, aren’t you trying to lose some weight? Well my answer is, yes and sadly, yes but also that once I get a bee in my bonnet about something, nothing will stop me - not even 30 degree heat or a desire to drop a dress size. I recently tried spaetzle (or Spätzle) at Konstam. It is a type of German ‘noodle’ (the name translates as ‘little sparrows’) and is usually made by pushing batter through a spaetzle maker and then cooking the pieces in boiling water, like pasta.

The spaetzle I ate at Konstam had then also been fried, in butter and had the most wonderful texture. Apparently, this is a popular way to eat them - as is mixed with cheese and topped with crispy fried onions. I enjoyed the cheese and onion combo but with a fat wadge of brown crab meat in the fridge, it seemed obvious to go down the crab-lemon-chilli road. I love white crab meat too of course but personally, I feel that the intensely flavoured brown meat is hugely underrated.

The batter is a one bowl job but the mixing of it seriously tests the guns. I’m not talking mayonnaise making gun strain either - this is much more hardcore. I recommend sifting the flour beforehand to avoid those pesky lumps and therefore cutting down on mixing time. A quick shifty through the first page of Google results for spaetzle informed me that a spaetzle maker is the ideal utensil (funny that) but in the absence of this, one should just push the batter through either a potato ricer (I don’t have one), a slotted spoon (takes a lot of practice), or a colander - unsurprisingly I opted for the latter. Easier said than done. The elasticity of the batter makes pushing it through the colander some seriously hard labour. The fact you need to do this over a pan of boiling water = nasty steam burn on my left hand.

I gave up on the colander method and switched to slotted spoon, which worked well until the spoon clogged up and resisted all my attempts to de-batter it. In the end, I resorted to using my hands in what I believe is correctly referred to as a ‘bodge job’ - messy but I got an acceptable result.

I’m pleased to say too that the effort was absolutely worth it as the end result was a joy. I considered throwing all pasta off the balcony and pledging eternal allegiance to the spaetzle. Chris described it as a cross between pasta and gnocchi in texture and it had lovely crusty bits where I fried it in butter before mixing it with the fragrant crabby mixture. I’ll be making spaetzle again and very soon, although not before I’ve invested in some proper equipment. Seriously, you should see the state of my kitchen.

Spaetzle with Crab, Lemon and Chilli

For the spaetzle, I used this recipe, which is sound enough but I will add just a few things. Firstly, make sure to sift your flour - this will cut down on the amount of stirring required to make the batter smooth. Secondly, don’t add too many spaetzle to the water at once - they will stick together. Set each batch aside in a bowl, with a drizzle of oil to stop them sticking together. Finally, it doesn’t mention that when the spaetzle float to the top, they are cooked.

You will also need butter, for frying the spaetzle.

For the crab (and to finish the dish)

170g brown crab meat (this is how much I used…a bit more or less - not a problem)
1 large red chilli, finely chopped
A few strips of lemon peel (from an unwaxed lemon), finely chopped
Juice of half a lemon (plus extra to serve)
2 cloves garlic, crushed
A small handful parsley leaves, chopped
Olive oil

- When you have cooked the spaetzle as above, fry them in butter in a heavy bottomed pan, until they are golden and crispy in places.
- While you are doing this, gently heat the garlic, chilli and lemon zest with a good glug of olive oil in a separate pan. When this begins to sizzle, pour it straight over the spaetzle and add the crab meat, lemon juice, parsley and seasoning. Stir well to combine and warm everything through. Serve straight away with extra lemon wedges.

I actually visited Sushi Hiro almost two months ago so I’m busting it out from the archives now before my memory lets me down completely. My mate and I had been in West London for the Real Food Festival and thought it would be criminal not to ride the extra few stops out to Ealing to try this place we’d heard so many good things about.

From the outside, Sushi Hiro ain’t much to look at. In fact, you’d be forgiven for wondering if it’s even open* but a nervous peek round the door reveals otherwise. The interior is most definitely no frills - white walls, a few basic tables and a typical bar to the left behind which chefs busy themselves with the art of crafting what we would find out is some really decent sushi. The chefs were not the first thing which impressed about Sushi Hiro though (for their total, unwavering concentration and fastidiousness is very impressive), it was the fresh salty smack of sea scent (not fishyness), which hits you in the face as soon as you walk in. An unexpected but very welcome surprise from a teensy joint in Ealing.

We wolfed down the complementary edamame while perusing the menu and deciding upon a generous deluxe sushi plate each, which included amongst others mackerel, salmon, eel, belly tuna and scallop (about £16 I think). The fish was beautifully fresh, generously portioned and positively gleaming with eat-me factor. The sushi rice was slightly warm, which was new to me but seemed right and proper. As my mate and I are total pickle addicts, we had to order some pickled gourd and pickled radish maki. We reveled in their sweetness but I thought they might benefit from a touch more tang. I’m picky about pickles.

All in all, some great sushi, the best I’ve eaten in London so far. Despite the fact I’ve a fair few places yet to try I still feel that London is in need of more excellent examples like this one. Some more in Saaf East would be good too, thanks. People down here need sushi too you know.

1 Station Parade
Uxbridge Road
London
W5 3LD
0208 896 3175
*Opening Hours Tue-Sun 11:00-13:30 & 16:30-21:00

After the success of the beer can chicken, I was keen to use the method again but this time with a duck and some cherry beer. As far as I know, cherry beer doesn’t come in cans so I bought a bottle and just tipped it into a regular beer can (king size Stella cans so I could get more beer in - credit to Chris for that idea).

I think I’ve got the BBQ ‘indirect cooking’ method pretty much down now - it basically involves moving the hot coals to the sides of the BBQ and using a roasting tray to catch the fat. The lid needs to be on to get the heat circulating. My two major concerns were ensuring that the drip tray was deep enough (as a duck is so fatty) and also taking steps to get maximum crispiness of skin. Twitter is always useful in these situations and some great advice came from @justcookit who advised scoring and salting heavily an hour or so before, then dusting off and salting again, to draw some moisture out.

The next question was what to serve it with. I didn’t want anything hot as the weather is too glorious. Again, Twitter to the rescue and a joint effort between @SimonMajumdar and @theboydonefood produced the idea of a fruity slaw of red cabbage, raisins and orange zest. Simon suggested using smetana, which I had to google and could probably have sourced in the Polish deli nearby but I was strapped for time and so subsituted sour cream. It worked well. I fancied a handful of sour cherries to continue the cherry-duck theme but couldn’t find any so a packet of cranberries lurking at the back of the cupboard it was and a fine slaw was born.

As the time came to eat the duck, the lid was lifted to a chorus of oohs and aahs (yes two people can make a chorus) - the skin all over the bird was beautifully crisp. We rejoiced. The bird was removed, covered with foil and left to rest. Ten minutes passed and then, a moment of horrible realisation. I’d set the bird to rest breast down…the crispy skin - noooo! I’m sad to report that yes, a teensy bit of crispness had been lost but…I’m over it. A little bit. The fat overall was just - wow. Duck takes on smoke like a dream. The meat was a bit overcooked but still blushing, incredibly moist and I detected, I think, a slight hint of fruit.

The slaw worked well, cutting through the richness of the duck but I think next time I’ll make some kind of cherry chutney affair to boost the cherry flavour a bit. Overall though, I declare the venture a resounding success - apart from one little drunken fail in the middle. Must remember not to steam myself in cherry beer as well as the bird next time…

The beer can method is here. Remember to score and salt the duck for an hour before cooking and of course, rest it breast side up.

I’m sure you all know the format of the Taste of London festival by now - a selection of London’s top restaurants serve up miniature versions of their dishes for Monopoly money (festival currency or ‘crowns’ - £1 for 2) and hungry punters like you and me snap up as many as possible while swanning around Regent’s Park in the sunshine. So, on Sunday, the final day of the festival, a group of us hungry bloggers did exactly that. Here’s my pick of the dishes that wowed and those which could have done better…

No sooner had we walked through the gate than Fino sucked us right in with their impressive paella pan brimming with arroz negro - deeply satisfying rice cooked with squid ink, which packed a hefty umami punch and bore treats of prawns and squid in its rich, murky depths. Their lamb cutlets with ajo blanco were also spectacularly juicy and tender. Both simple dishes but both packed with flavour.

Seven hour braised lamb with balsamic onions and mash (Tom’s Kitchen) was another stand out dish and apparently the most popular at the festival on the previous day. Heavenly melty tender pulled meat with sweet and sharp onions and the lightest cloud of mash. A bit of a gamble serving up roast meat and tatties on a summers day but one that clearly paid off.

Another honourable mention must go to this seared marinated salmon with fennel and grapefruit salad from Boxwood cafe. I can’t really be bothered with cooked salmon but adore it raw and this generous portion was just lightly seared without and raw and silky within. Perfect. Slivers of wafer thin fennel and a citrus burst of grapefruit freshened the dish.

My highlight of the day (from my favourite restaurant overall) was this strawberry and hibiscus bellini from The Ledbury. A fragrant hibiscus mix lay underneath the most intensely fruity strawberry foam. For me, this drink was perfect in every way. We started giggling with our very first sips and didn’t stop oohing and aahing until the whole thing was gone and we walked away giddy with pleasure. It was served with a freshly fried jammy doughnut which satisfied the inner child but seriously, it was all about that bellini.

The Ledbury’s main course was also a winner - celeriac baked in ash (made using hay apparently), with hazelnuts, summer truffle and a kromeski of wild boar. The kromeski turned out to be a little fried parcel with a super crisp outside encasing deep, rich, tender boar meat. The celeriac was totally transformed - slightly bitter, slightly sweet and visually unrecognisable although, it has occurred to me since that it isn’t in season. Still, whatever, I really don’t care because it tasted great and I am now saving furiously (as are my festival companions) for a full on dinner at The Ledbury (that’s their starter at the top by the way).

And here are the dishes I felt were disappointing…firstly, this tomato pasta from L’Anima was just rather boring. Perhaps at a different time and place it might have been ambrosial (e.g. your mate’s house on a weeknight) but in the midst of all the exciting flavours at Taste, it was simply lost. I’m sorry to say their chicken alla Romana also fared quite badly with our group for the same reason. Perhaps we just had palate fatigue. That said, their offering of fettucine with wild mushrooms and summer truffles was spectacular (it carried a price tag of £24 crowns (£12) to match).

And finally, probably the worst dish of the day for me - sweetbreads and lamb’s tongue from Hereford Road which sounded fantastic but in reality was absolutely crying out for seasoning. The accompanying parsley salad was also a let down. It was just all parsley but not in the same way as the vibrant, piquant salad which comes with roast bone marrow at St. John is all parsley - it was just dry and uninspiring.

Happily, most of what we ate at Taste was delicious but, at £25 per ticket before you’ve even bought any food, you’re really crossing your fingers that it will be. On this occasion, The Guardian dished out press passes to readers and bloggers as part of their #tastefringe event, which allowed us free entry in exchange for tweeting in tandem with our munching (read our collective tweets here). The festival provides the opportunity to sample dishes from many different restaurants and of course I thoroughly enjoyed doing just that but I must admit - without the privilege of the press pass, the cost of Taste of London would have been a prohibitive one for me this year.

You can see the full extent of our gluttony in my Flickr set here.

Crumpets are the ultimate comfort food for me - all toasty and spongy and most importantly, outrageously buttery. Tea is an essential accompaniment. Many problems can be solved with a double round of brews and crumpets. Everyone has a favourite way to eat them - eggy crumps, Marmite crumps, jammy crumps, I could go on. When it comes down to it though, my favourite way to eat them is just pure and simple, nowt but batter and butter.

You can imagine how it pains me then that I have never, ever managed to make a decent crumpet and it’s not for want of trying I can assure you. I’ve followed recipes which use baking powder and those without, I’ve tried resting it once, twice or not at all. I’ve tried varying the heat levels and I’ve tried cooking them with and without rings.*

Every time the batter starts to cook however, the bubbles start to rise to the top and pop a few times and then something just…stops. Actually, it’s more than that - somehow, the holes manage to actually re-seal themselves. What is that all about?! Every time I end up with a stodgy batter patty with a pool of butter swimming on top. The fat cannot get in and this is bad, very bad indeed.

So, this is a plea for help people - share your secrets please! One of you must surely have the key to a good bit of crumpet?

*I’ve tried so many recipes that I haven’t bothered to list them all but if you type ‘crumpet recipe’ into Google I’ve basically worked my way through the first page.