Fiona Beckett recently threw down the challenge to produce the ‘ultimate’ macaroni cheese. I think it’s fair to say I was up for that with bells on. My enthusiasm escalated to such lofty heights that I ended up producing a cheesy carbilicious beast of mammoth proportions; a behemoth capable of providing an extra  insulating layer around my ribs that would keep out the winter chills and probably stay put well into spring. It fed two of us twice a day for two days plus three men for dinner on a third.

Before Creation of course, there was only me. Me and my hungry brain trying to figure out what would make my ‘ultimate’ mac ‘n cheese. I dipped my toe into the idea of going down the purist route (read ‘no pork’), but I’ve learned not to try and trick my tastebuds for the sake of principle. Usually I use bacon, but this time I wanted to somehow gently infuse the porky flavour throughout the dish and hit on the idea of simmering a small ham hock to make stock before cooking the macaroni in the golden swiney liquor. Pasta cooked in ham stock. Yes. The meat I teased from the bone into silky pink nuggets; every now and then a porcine treasure bobbed up from the bubbling cheesy depths.

When it comes to the cheese, I’m a cheddar girl. Extra mature, naturally. A mac needs guts and only x-rated quantities of a well ripened cheddar can produce the tang I crave; melted into silky bechamel with a smidge of the Montgomery smoked to play off the pork, finished with a good shake of white pepper. I often prefer its sharp, ripe intensity over the black stuff; hugely underrated.

And finally to the crust. For me, it must be crisper than a  winter morning in Siberia and for this I could think of nothing more suitable than Japanese panko crumbs, mixed with yet more CHEESE.

Shattering crust, cheesy steam, rich, gooey pasta; sauce oozing through every tube. Crispy burnt edge bits tumble into soft, unctuous, silken stodge. How could I forget such a classic? The divine chorus of carb and dairy, singing to the tune of winter weight gain.

Mac ‘n Cheese for an Army

The quantities here got a bit out of hand so you might want to halve it! This filled a  14 x 12 x 3 inch dish if you want to feed your entire neighbourhood. Do the hock first, then while the pasta is cooking, make your cheesy sauce. If the pasta is done before the sauce, add a few drops of oil and stir to stop it sticking together.

For the hock

1 small ham hock
1 bay leaf
Six black peppercorns
A few parsley stalks
1 carrot, halved
1 stick celery, halved
1 onion, halved and stuck with a couple of cloves

Place the hock in a large pan and cover with water. Simmer for a few hours then strain into a bowl and reserve the stock for cooking the pasta. Flake the meat from the bone, taking care to avoid any bits of skin or sinew, chop into bite size chunks and reserve for mixing into the mac.

For the sauce

Triple this bechamel recipe, adding about 500g cheddar of your choice plus 150g smoked cheddar melted in at the end. Season with plenty of white pepper but no salt (the hock and cheese are both salty).

425ml milk
40g butter
20g plain flour
A swift grating of nutmeg (optional)
White pepper to taste

Melt the butter over a gentle heat and add the flour, stirring quite vigorously to make a paste. Let this cook for a few minutes, stirring vigorously the whole time. Begin adding the milk a little at a time, making sure each bit is incorporated fully before adding the next. Towards the end you can start pouring larger amounts in there. Add the nutmeg and cook over a low heat, stirring, for about 10-15 minutes. When it starts to thicken, add the cheese and allow it to melt. Season with the white pepper to taste. If you need to keep it to one side, cover with some greaseproof paper to stop a skin forming.

For the macaroni

700g dried macaroni

Cook the macaroni in the reserved ham stock, topping up with a little water if necessary.

For the topping

Panko breadcrumbs (enough to cover), mixed with a good couple of handfuls of grated cheddar. I grated a bit more on top and added a bit of parmesan too simply because I had it lying around but that’s optional.

Assembling and cooking the mac

Mix the sauce with the macaroni and ham hock pieces then check the seasoning before piling into a well buttered baking dish. Sprinkle on the crumb topping, grating on more cheese if desired. Bake at 200C until golden brown and crisp. Allow to cool a little before serving and serve with a salad of bitter winter leaves or a summer salad with a sharp dressing.

I finally got around to making Gastrogeek’s aubergine dhal after months of bleating on about it. The addition of smoky burnt aubergine flesh is simply inspired and the dish lived up to expectations even after the long build up. With a lot left over though, I wanted to try experimenting with stuffed parathas, which would also solve the problem of not having any bread left to scoop everything up with.

Most recipes instructed to make a dough first, then roll each piece out, spoon a blob of cold dhal in the centre and then pinch it around and seal as if making a dumpling. The ball is then pressed down and rolled out, thus incorporating the lentils. I suppose you could call that ’stuffed’ – the dhal was certainly stuffed inside the dough at one point, but the rolling basically just mushed the whole lot together.

This method does not make things easy when it comes to rolling. Despite liberal flouring, it was hard not to end up in a big, sticky mess as the lentils burst forth from the dough with alarming force, taking no taming whatsoever no matter how gently I rolled and flipped and turned. There had to be an easier way.

It made sense to me to try mixing equal amounts of flour and dhal at the very beginning, so the curry becomes the water that holds the dough together. Since they are not really ’stuffed’ anyway then what would it matter? I made another batch and it worked well; I added just a drop of water to bring it together completely and the result was a much more workable dough that rolled out to a neater, thinner paratha. I didn’t fold the dough over though, so they weren’t as flaky as a regular paratha. Next time, next time.

I cooked them in a cast iron skillet in a little oil, brushing each with an indecent amount of ghee. We scooped up mouthfuls of leftover rogan josh, pumpkin and coconut curry and one of my favourite chutneys: walnut and mint. The recipe comes from Madhur Jaffrey’s ‘Curry Bible’ and is well worth a try. You just stick walnuts, mint, garlic, chillies and lemon juice in the blender, then mix with seasoned plain yoghurt. The result is rather hot with a tangy kick from the yoghurt and it has that immensely satisfying texture of blended walnuts, just like that of muhammara.

I’m not exactly the world’s most skilful paratha maker, but I did manage to produce some buttery, toasty, curry scooper-uppers, which had a pleasing sour and smoky kick and a bit of texture variation from the lentils. A welcome addition to the leftovers repertoire and one well worth the extra couple of pounds in weight gained due to my inability to control myself around clarified butter.

Dhal ‘Stuffed’ Parathas

This isn’t the most authentic recipe you’re going to come across but it is easy, so do what you will.

Equal amounts of dhal (cold) and chapatti flour. If you can’t find chapatti flour then use a 50/50 mix of wholemeal and white flour.
A pinch of salt
Ghee, for brushing
Oil, for frying (I used groundnut)

Mix the dahl and flour together with your hands and then add a drop of water if needed to bring it together. Knead it on a lightly floured surface until the dough becomes smooth (apart from the lentils, obviously). Then cover and leave to rest for about 10 minutes.

Divide into balls roughly the size of a small lemon and roll out to 10-15cm wide circles. You basically want to get them nice and thin. You can then try folding the parathas like I forgot to do, in half and half again before re-rolling. This should give you some nice flaky layers. I imagine this might be harder with the stuffed ones however, as the lentils make the dough a bit lumpier.

Heat a heavy pan until very hot (I used a cast iron skillet), then fry each in a little oil (about 1tsp) on both sides until brown blistered patches appear. Brush liberally with ghee once cooked and set aside on a warm plate while you finish the batch.

Madhur Jaffrey’s Walnut and Mint Chutney (from The Curry Bible)

60g walnuts
30g mint leaves
1 clove garlic
1 tablespoon lemon juice
4 tablespoons plain yoghurt
4 birds eye chillies (I used 2 larger green ones)
1/2 teaspoon salt

Whizz the walnuts, garlic, mint, chillies, lemon juice, salt and 5 tablespoons water in a blender until you have a smooth paste. Using a fork, whip the yoghurt in a separate bowl until light and fluffy. Mix the paste from the blender into this. Taste and adjust the balance of seasonings as necessary.

Last Sunday Lizzie and I took part in the Nom Nom Nom cooking competition hosted by Cookery School and Qype. Pairs of contestants were challenged to come up with a three course menu (including one cold course), which was ’simple, sexy, sustainable and seasonal’. To be perfectly honest, we entered on a bit of a whim and then as the competition day loomed near, quickly realised we would actually have to cook stuff, and that it would be judged by the likes of Dan Lepard, Tom Aikens and Allegra McEvedy. Eeek!

With this in mind we decided it might be a wise move to test it out first rather than going in cold. Despite the practice session being worryingly peppered with mini crises – notably a transport fail, a broken oven, a bee sting and a box of eggs that jumped straight from the fridge to the floor, we were pleased with the results. Our menu was to follow a fruity theme, with a crab and mango salad to start, followed by duck with gooseberry sauce, chard and fondant potato and a dessert of cherry samosas with apple marscapone.

We’d managed to push on through our practice session with the help of some generous gin and tonics and so in honour of the beverage decided to call ourselves the Go Go Gin Girls and back it up by sinking three rounds each throughout the course of the competition proper. Pretty good going I think you’ll agree.

The refreshment was most welcome after a frantic dash around sunny Marylebone Farmers Market followed by a last minute panic spree round Waitrose, which we found shut when we first arrived. Despite this irritating setback which saw us enduring half an hour in the devil’s coffee shop – Starbucks, we managed to find all necessary ingredients and hot footed it back to the cookery school with literally minutes to spare.

I’m pleased to say that we managed to turn out the whole meal exactly as planned – on time, well cooked and we thought, delicious. The only problem really was that, erm, we lost. We held our breath as the winners were announced – ‘here’s a clue…the first course was something fishy’ (yes!), ‘followed by duck..’ (yes! our hearts were really pounding now) ‘…and the winning team is…The French Connection!’ Oh. WE WERE ROBBED! And thoroughly serving winners they were too, closely followed by runners up More Ginger’s Vicar?

All is not lost though readers, oh no, for there is such as thing as the ‘viewers choice awards’ – and so this is where you fascinating, intelligent, good looking, witty readers come in. Please, please vote for the Go Go Gin Girls! Here’s the link or you can click on the Nom Nom Nom badge in the right hand column. We’ll be posting the main course and dessert over the next couple of weeks but in the meantime, did I mention, VOTE FOR US!*

Crab and Mango Salad (serves 1)

100g crab meat – a mixture of white and brown
1/4 mango, diced into 1cm cubes
Small handful mixed leaves
The green parts from 1 spring onion, finely sliced
Sesame seeds to garnish

For the dressing

1 small red chillli, de-seeded and chopped
1 small handful mint leaves and coriander leaves, chopped
1 small clove garlic
Juice of 1/2 lime
1 small piece ginger (about 2cm square), chopped
A good pinch of sugar
1 tbsp flavourless oil
Salt and pepper

- Begin by making the dressing. Crush the garlic, ginger and chilli in a pestle and mortar with the salt until it is broken down and combined. Add the mint, coriander, lime juice, pepper and sugar and work in well. Add the oil and mix again. Adjust the quantities as necessary.
- Combine the crab meat with the mango cubes.
- Place a chef’s ring in the middle of a plate and add the mixed leaves, pressing down gently. On top of this add the crab and mango mixture, again pressing down gently before gently lifting off the ring.
- Swirl the dressing around the sides and sparingly scatter with spring onion slices. Garnish the crab with sesame seeds and serve.

*I’ve never used so many exclamation marks in a blog post. Can you tell we would like to win?
For Lizzie’s post about the starter and a drunken hug picture, click here.

Thanks to Chris Osburn for the top and bottom photos.

I was invited to a preview of Belgo Centraal’s ‘Lobsterfest’ recently, a special menu available throughout the month of June with the aim of celebrating, well, the lobster. It’s an ingredient I usually associate with either paying a fair wad in a restaurant or (for much less money and twice the excitement), the ultimate coastal holiday pleasure of eating by the sea side just steps away from where it landed. Obviously I was willing to give Belgo’s lobsters a chance though and I wondered how well a central London beery place would treat them.

Inside, Belgo Centraal is a vast space with communal style dining benches, an open kitchen and lots of signage depicting references to Belgian beers. The place was absolutely rammed on a Wednesday evening, creating a nice buzzy atmosphere.

The waiting staff are donned in what I think might be traditional beer serving outfits – elaborately stringed aprons – which look like they might be a bit of a nightmare when it comes to relieving oneself as per the man on glass above. Our waiter did seem knowledgable about the beer too though so perhaps it’s not all just for show.

After appropriate refreshment then, we started the fest with a (very) cheesy-mustardy lobster Thermidor (£8.80) and a red Thai lobster (£8.50), both of which, if I’m completely honest, would benefit from a much lighter touch to let the lobster flavour shine through.

This was followed by a whole grilled lobster slathered in naughty Pernod butter and served with frites and salad (£16.95) and the Surf ‘n Turf, steak/lobster option, again with Pernod butter, frites and salad (£16.95). The steak was fairly unremarkable and personally I’m a black ‘n blue kind of gal but I still found myself chowing down happily due to the buttery goodness on top.

The stand out dishes for me were the rich bisque (not the best ever but good value at £4.95) and the lobster salad (£16.95) – generous chunks of meat with crispy vegetables in a light dressing – a simple preparation which allowed the sweet flavour of lobster to hog the limelight.

If you are looking to eat the most perfectly cooked or straight-from-the-sea freshest lobster of your life then you’re not going to find it here. What you will get however, is a shellfish supper, which you may or may not care to wash down with copious amounts of beer, that won’t break the bank.

Belgo Centraal
50 Earlham Street
Covent Garden
London
WC2H 9LJ
0207 813 2233
http://www.belgo-restaurants.co.uk/

If you have no idea what I’m talking about when I say, ‘Eating Eurovision‘ then um, where have you been?! If you follow me or any of the other participants on Twitter, you surely couldn’t fail to notice the desperate pleas for help. Our challenge (set by food journalist Andrew Webb), was to each draw a Eurovision participating country and then go forth into the city with the aim of seeking out some traditional cuisine. To be perfectly honest, I thanked my lucky stars when I pulled this Danish beauty out of the bag and tried not to show too much relief when others plucked countries like Moldova.

My first investigations yielded the suggestion (thanks Charmaine) of Madsen restaurant in Kensington and, although it does look rather nice, I wanted something a bit more traditional, more full-on nitty-gritty hardcore Danish. My trusty friend google turned up ‘The Danish Club‘ (a stones throw from Green Park tube), founded in 1883 and patronised by Queen Margrethe II of Denmark no less! Full of excitement, I was straight on the blower to the lovely Lizette Bang, who invited me (and my mate) over for a traditional ‘Danish Platter’ – result!

I will admit to feeling a little out of place when I rocked up in my usual clobber to find something akin to a beautiful stately home awaiting me. It was the kind of place where you automatically start whispering and worrying about your posture – pillars, chandeliers and paintings with eyes that follow you around the room. The staff inside were warm and charming however, and fears of not being worthy slipped away as we moved through to the dining room to begin our Danish adventure.

We kicked things off with a strong, dark and super malty Danish beer which Lizette tells me may have been ‘Christmas Beer’ (Juleøl) – so popular that the Danes drink it all year round.

A measure of seriously potent Aquavit (Akvavit) arrived at the same time but (on the advice of our waiter) remained untouched until the food arrived – the idea being that you sup it as an accompaniment to the herrings on the Danish platter. You take a bite of herring, followed by a sip of Aquavit.

The platter is apparently a very traditional meal, typically served at lunchtime and bulging with fish, fish and more fish. Oh, and meat. As suggested, we started with the herrings (my favourite part of the meal). There were three kinds – the first marinated in Madeira, the second straight up pickled and the third served in curry sauce – all sweet, soused and incredibly soft, almost buttery in texture. Among the other fish we devoured were smoked eel, fried plaice, prawns and smoked salmon. Among the meats, a Danish meatball (frikadeller), crispy bacon and pate with rye bread. It is the use of rye bread which makes Danish cuisine different from that of other Scandinavian countries apparently – the bread is spread with butter and the fish piled on top to make an open sandwich, or Smørrebrød.

Amongst all that fish nestled some welcome crunchy beetroot and mystery pickle, which my friend and I tried and failed to identify as pickled pear. Together with some crispy fried onions, the whole plate was a fishy, meaty extravaganza of contrasts although in the end, it defeated even two ladies with seemingly bottomless pits where our stomachs should be.

At this point the restaurant was really filling up, as was the surrounding bar. I imagine this place is a real haven for the Danish community in London – there are some 600 members of the club, although Lizette would like to encourage more of the 40,000 strong Danes in the capital to sign up. I left the Danish Club feeling rather privileged actually, to have been so generously invited and to have enjoyed such warm hospitality. A huge thank you to Lizette and the staff at the Danish club for making my Eurovision challenge a success and a pleasure.

Posts from the other participating bloggers here.