You can’t say you haven’t thought about it these past few days. A few spots of drizzle and it’s pie o’clock.

One thing I didn’t expect to find myself making though was a vegetarian pie. It’s inspired by the Italian Easter pie, torta pasqualina and the filling is a deeply savoury mixture of roasted artichokes, crème fraiche, eggs, cheese and spinach. I just can’t get enough spinach into my body at the moment and it’s so darn cheap in Peckham; 3 or 4 huge bunches for just 1 of your shiny quids – that’s about 400g  of spinach once you’ve trimmed the stalks and it’s ready to use. I cast my eye over the sorry looking shelves in Tesco Express yesterday for comparison – £1.40 for 260g of baby leaves in an inflated plastic bag. What a rip. It’s baby spinach yes, but I prefer the mature, ballsy stuff to be honest.

One thing that doesn’t come cheap however, is a decent egg. I used Clarence Court eggs for The Big Lunch and I’ve developed a bit of a habit; Cotswold Legbars are my favourite ‘old breed’ with their rough textured, pastel-blue shells and rich amber yolks. This recipe uses a lot: 6 in the filling mix, 4 on top. They set the filling as well as enrich it though, so you can cut a slice without everything oozing out. I wanted the mixture to be quite coarse but absent mindedly puréed the lot. It didn’t matter, the result was a pleasant light texture.

So it’s not a traditional torta, but it is a very tasty variation. Usually, the pie contains ricotta but I used crème fraiche and a bit of grated cheddar because well, that’s what I had. It’s amazing really, just how satisfying this pie is. I lay in bed one night and seriously considered getting up in the wee hours for a nibble.

The olive oil pastry is rolled out very thin and arranged in layers – traditionally 33, to represent the number of years that Christ supposedly lived. There was no way I was doing that many layers (coming from a woman who skins chickpeas) and anyway, I can’t imagine it being particularly pleasant to eat. I managed 5 or 6, and felt rather chuffed about it, particularly because they were clearly distinguishable in the cooked pie. My recipe uses 8 tablespoons of olive oil, which I’m not sure is much in the way of fat in pastry-land, and yet it’s very silky. A keeper.

We ate indecently large wedges with a simple tomato and onion salad; perfectly ripe fruits layered with red and spring onions, drizzled with good balsamic and olive oil, salted and peppered. I never thought it possible, but this pie was every bit as satisfying as a meaty version.

Torta Pasqualina (to make a more classic torta, substitute the crème fraiche and cheddar cheese with ricotta and some Parmesan if you have it).

This fills a 23cm spring form cake tin.

800g spinach (this is the equivalent of 6 large bunches bought in the mighty Peckham)
200g crème fraiche
A large handful of large cheddar cheese
1 massive onion, chopped fairly small
2 fat cloves of garlic, finely chopped
1 large handful (about 30g) flat leaf parsley
250g roasted artichokes from a jar
10 eggs

For the pastry

660g plain (all purpose) flour
8 tablespoons olive oil
2 teaspoons salt
1 egg, for glazing
About 230ml cold water

First, make the pastry. Combine the flour, oil and salt in large bowl. Gradually add the water and mix to form a dough that is fairly stiff. Turn it out out onto lightly floured surface and knead until smooth and elastic, about 15 minutes then transfer to a bowl, cover and leave it for 30 minutes in the fridge.

Allow the spinach to wilt down in a dry pan then allow to cool and squeeze out as much water as you can. Soften the chopped onion gently in a tablespoon of olive oil for about 10 minutes, then add the finely chopped garlic and artichokes for a few minutes longer, stirring regularly. Combine this mixture with the parsley, creme fraiche, cheese and 6 of the eggs. You can do this in a blender but do remember to pulse not blend! Season heavily with salt and pepper.

Preheat the oven to 220C

Brush the tin with olive oil and divide the dough into 10 pieces. Roll each piece out very thinly on a lightly floured surface so that they are large enough to fit the pan. I used 6 layers on the bottom and 4 on top and brushed each layer with olive oil before adding the next. Add your filling, then make 4 indentations in the top and crack in the other 4 eggs. If you feel there is too much white you can get rid of some by letting some run off as if you were separating the egg.

Add your pastry layers to the top then crimp the sides and brush the whole pie with beaten egg. Bake the pie for 45 minutes to 1 hour. It should be golden brown all over.

A weekend brunch is about chilling in the homestead; for me this is the most important time to be ducking in and out of  local shops and showing some love for the hood. Anyway let’s face it, if your Friday nights are anything like mine you probably can’t move your sorry ass too far from the sofa anyway come Saturday morning. It’s a case of a Supermarket Sweep* style dash – gather the goods – in and out – back home to rustle up something warming, protein-heavy and importantly, filling.

So, it’s a Peckham twist on yer classic egg, sausage and tomato combination and it goes like this: in a decent, heavy frying pan brown some sausage slices (I used some beefy ones from Persepolis but you could use chorizo or similar, whatever you can find), then set them aside and soften some good old onion, garlic and chilli (I used fruity and fierce scotch bonnet). Add a tin of good quality tinned toms and 2 generous handfuls of spinach. Finally, crack a couple of eggs on top and let simmer until they’re cooked. A sprinkle of citric sumac, a warmed wedge of onion seed-speckled bread and a dollop of coriander flecked labneh (strained yoghurt) complete the Peckham theme. If it’s the season and you can get your hands on it, Must-e-Moussir (yoghurt with spring garlic) works a treat too.

This still tastes delicious even if you’ve dodged the hangover, but it’s a damn fine cure if you didn’t.

*For a truly disturbing ‘dance’ remix of the Supermarket Sweep theme tune featuring host Dale Winton, various shoppers and a guy in high-waisted bleached denim, click here.

The tava is still my favourite new toy. For a while, I didn’t even put it away but just let it sit on the worktop so I could look at it more, like a new pair of shoes that you just can’t put in the cupboard. I started basic with chapatis and then felt ready to move on to parathas. It was supposed to be a gentle learning curve until I spotted this gorgeous stuffed version; it had to be done.

This is from the brilliant ‘Indian’ by Das Sreedharan; hopefully I won’t get into trouble for publishing another of his recipes. I can’t understand why the book isn’t more popular to be honest. I found mine for a stupidly low price and quite a few others have told me how they found it in a bargain bin. Das is from Kerala and it’s packed full of South Indian recipes; coconut, curry leaves and mustard seeds are predominant flavours throughout.

Apparently, this recipe is based on “the popular Ceylonese tradition of flat, thin bread dough stuffed with…seafood masala.” You make the paratha dough (wholemeal flour and oil) and then slap it on the hot tava before smearing with the mix of  prawns, egg, onion, chilli and spices. This cooks briefly and then you flip so that the coating sears and sizzles instantly on the tava. You flip again and then roll it all up.

They are dangerously moreish. Crisp paratha and soft, spiced stuffing, fragrant with the essential curry leaf; every now and then a succulent prawn. It’s really tempting to re-make and pack ‘em to bursting but this is one of those times to resist – knowing when to stop and all that. They look weird while you’re cooking them (a bit like someone sicked up on a paratha – there’s no denying it), but once rolled, we’re talking high quality stuffed carb here – we ate four each in one sitting and yearned for more.

I suggest you make a steaming great heap of them. There’s nothing else for it. You won’t need any accompaniments except perhaps something to dunk them into – they’re a meal in themselves.

Adipoli Parathas (from Indian by Das Sreedharan)
(makes eight)

225g wholemeal flour
4 tablespoons vegetable oil, plus extra for brushing

For the filling

8 tablespoons vegetable oil
1/2 teaspoon mustard seeds
2.5 cm piece ginger, peeled and grated
2 onions, peeled and finely chopped
1 green chilli, chopped
10 curry leaves
1/2 teaspoon turmeric
150g raw prawns, peeled
2 eggs, beaten (I used 3)
salt

To make the paratha dough, put the flour in a bowl and gradually stir in the oil and about 150ml water to make a soft, pliable dough. Knead for 3-4 minutes, then return to the bowl, cover and set aside for an hour.

To make the filling, heat the oil in a frying pan. Add the mustard seeds and when the start to pop, add the ginger, onions, chilli and curry leaves. Cook over medium to low heat for 5 minutes, stirring every now and then until soft. Add turmeric and salt and cook for 1 minute then add the prawns until pink and cooked through. Remove the mix from the pan and set aside.

Divide the dough into 8 equal portions. Roll one into a ball before rolling out into a circle as thinly as possible. It should be paper thin and about 8-9 inches in diameter.

Heat a tava, griddle or frying pan and brush with oil. When hot, slap on a circle of dough (the heat should be medium). Cook until it starts to turn golden. Stir the eggs into the prawn mix, lower the heat and then spread 3 scant tablespoons onto the paratha. Leave until the egg is pretty much cooked and then flip, searing the mix onto the paratha. Wait until it is stuck well on there before you flip again and cook briefly. You want it nicely golden underneath.

You now just roll it up. I kept mine warm in a very low oven while I made the rest. I served them cut into two or three pieces each with a yoghurty dipping sauce which had some coriander, chilli and lemon juice stirred through (I think). A dusting of chilli powder on the parathas is really good.

The phrase ‘seasonal eating’ has now been so over used that it’s become slightly cringe worthy, like the idea of eating only locally sourced produce and all the sickly lingo that goes with it – ‘locavore’ being the best example. The principles behind these concepts are well meaning, yet it appears we have lost all sense of perspective. For a while, it seemed like anyone who ate a pepper in winter was going to get locked up for doing it and it’s a shame we got to that stage because it masks the bigger picture, which is about the pure pleasure of experiencing something at its best.

I’m thinking about this because I was invited to visit the Riverford organic farm in Devon last weekend. The weather was glorious and our hangovers were massive, having been fed and watered very well at the award winning Riverford Field Kitchen the evening before. Our merriment continued well into the night after leaving the restaurant and there were some hairy moments bouncing around in the back of that Land Rover the next day I can tell you. Guy Watson, the owner and founder of the Riverford business, saw this as the best way for us to see as much of the farm as possible. “You look like you’re struggling a bit Helen” he remarked. He was right.

Guy Watson is the sort of bloke who is just in exactly the right place, doing exactly the right thing. This man is part of the farm. From his expertise, to the well used knife he often produces to deftly pluck a cabbage or bisect a leek, to his smile-lined, sun-weathered face. He understands the ecosystem he’s dealing with and works with it -apparently the key to successful organic farming.

We start the tour with a bit of poly tunnel action. Lettuces and other leaves grow in the muggy plastic structures, apparently so fast that ‘you can almost hear them’ doing it. There is the usual compact, crinkled gem and some more interesting stuff like dandelion leaves – bitter and earthy. Apparently not many customers are keen but Guy really enjoys them and so do I.

We bounce from field to field plucking leeks, spring greens and rhubarb. We are all fascinated by the purple sprouting broccoli, with one of us remarking on how ignorant we sometimes are about the way vegetables grow. A final burst of energy saw everyone huffing towards the garlic wood – Riverford customers get 2-3 bunches per season in their vegetable box (they’ve done a survey and apparently this is the average preference). My big bunch has gone into a soup and frittata. Neither novel ideas, both delicious.

I used to get a vegetable box, but I cancelled it about a year ago because, quite frankly, I got bored. It wasn’t a Riverford box though, and I’m not just puffing hot air when I say that I find their boxes more interesting. A bunch of dandelion leaves and wild garlic would both be most welcome. Of course in the dead of winter, when it’s all carrots, carrots and woody parsnips, it’s a real struggle for anyone to stay enthused. Through the spring and summer though, I rather miss the surprise of cracking open the box; things move fast and favourites are superseded quickly.

This is the challenge of eating seasonally. I am suspicious of most people who say they don’t eat any aubergines or spring onions in winter (although I bet Guy doesn’t). For me, the important thing is to celebrate stuff that grows in this country and grows well, at its best. A perfectly sweet and scarlet British strawberry is a classic example. It’s about supporting our British fruit and veg when it’s really doing its thing.

Riverford Organics
http://www.riverford.co.uk

Purple sprouting broccoli is dancing its last fandango in April. Here’s a recipe.

Purple Sprouting Broccoli and Reblochon Frittata

Reblochon cheese, sliced
1 large handful purple sprouting broccoli stems
1 handful wild garlic leaves, shredded or a couple of crushed regular cloves
6 eggs, beaten
1 medium onion, sliced
1 small leek, sliced
2 tablespoons chopped parsley (I used curly)
Salt and pepper

Plunge the broccoli stems into boiling salted water for a few minutes, then drain and rinse under cold water. Soften the onions and leek in a little olive oil in a skillet or frying pan on a gentle heat (and also the garlic cloves, if using) for about 5 minutes until good and soft. Arrange half the broccoli stems on top. Season the beaten eggs with salt and pepper and mix in the parsley and wild garlic if using and pour this evenly over the broccoli/onion mix. Add the rest of the broccoli and push down into the egg before laying the cheese slices on top.

Cook over a low-moderate heat until you can see the frittata cooking at the edges. You can then pop it under a medium hot grill to finish. Watch it though, because the top cooks fast. Lovely warm but often even better cold for lunch the next day.

My favourite snack for approximately the last ten years has been a soft boiled egg with anchovy soldiers. Fact. That’s a long time in service; I feel I’ve earned my stripes and the right to experiment with something that is nigh-on perfect already. It’s time to take things to the next level.

A baked egg has the added indulgence of butter and cream and of course, increased size on its side. The spinach in this one was almost a bridge too far but I got away with it, no doubt due to my lengthy service to the cause. The anchovy soldiers need no introduction – just don’t be shy with the butter.

Baked Eggs with Anchovy Soldiers

Personally, I won’t bother putting the spinach in next time but if you do fancy it, just wilt it down in a pan first, then squeeze out as much moisture as you can before adding to the ramekin, otherwise it will be watery.

Butter
Single cream
One large egg
Salt and pepper

Add your spinach to the ramekin if using and then carefully break in the egg. Add a splash of cream plus a little dab of butter on top and season well with pepper. You may want to add a little salt but remember those anchovies. Bake in the centre of a 180C oven until the egg is just cooked. Serve with toasty dippers slathered generously in butter and topped with as much anchovy fillet as you dare. Sometimes I use white pepper instead of black. Rock ‘n roll.

Is it just me, or does anyone else spend their time in the pub this way? Debating important and potentially life-changing conundrums such as – ‘pork or beef?’ (if you could only eat one for the rest of your life), ‘tomato ketchup or brown sauce?’ (in a bacon sandwich, naturally) and now this – the probability of turning out a decent, oven-baked scotch egg*. Instinct says it can’t be done, but then I started wondering – maybe we should be giving the baking a chance? Just how well could they really hold up against traditionally fried counterparts? There’s only one way to find out for a geek like me.

I used a recipe from Paganum’s food blog, fitting because they also supplied the meat (me gushing about them here) and followed the basic gist, swapping parsley for sage and employing a cheeky little clingfilm method for the assembly.

Lay out a meaty bed for your hard-boiled egg on a piece of clingfilm.

Plonk the egg in the middle.

Gather up the sides and squish the meat around the egg.

And, they are ready for a good egging and crumbing…

…like so. Except, FAIL #1: I didn’t have enough oil for deep frying and so had to shallow fry and cross my fingers instead. They looked great, an excellent golden colour, so I carefully spooned them out to let the excess oil drain off.

Then an excruciating wait (at least three minutes), before I finally gave in and cut one open. Only to find…raw sausagemeat – oops. I made the sausage layer too thick, leaving it still uncooked in places. Either that, or the shallow frying method failed me. Probably a bit of both (FAIL #2).

So, they go in the oven with the baked eggs anyway, which basically ruins the experiment. In the interests of all being right and good however, here’s the results.

As you can see, the oven baked egg looks anaemic in comparison to the fried and it doesn’t have the same calibre of ‘crust’. That said, those baked eggs are pretty damn crispy anyway (I turned them during cooking) – still immensely satisfying. And inside?

The baked is on the right in this picture and I can honestly say, no difference whatsoever within the crumb – both as perfectly juicy and delicious as the other. So all things considered, there ain’t much between them but you’re going to go for the fried, right? Right. Because the golden crunch is important dammit! All of which means that here we have yet another example of why you don’t bother making a low fat version of a high fat snack. It’s never going to be the same, you’re missing the point.

And so what advice can I actually pass on after all that fuss? Don’t eat three scotch eggs all to yourself, that’s what. Not all in the space of an hour anyway. The after effects are not desirable and include nausea, guilt and an extra inch on the waistline. On the upside, the taste and texture is out of this world – a totally different experience to those supermarket fakes – yucky egg mayonnaise inside grey, textureless flesh (God knows what that’s made from), and don’t forget the suspiciously hued crumb.

Next time, I’ll either stick with the frying or try misting the baked eggs with oil to brown them up more. I’ll also be having another bash at making home made salad cream to go with them, although I won’t be using this recipe, which needed so much adjustment on my part, it’s too complicated to pass on.

In the meantime, Chris has made some pork and apple ‘sausages’ with the leftover meat, which will later be transformed (I am told), into a toad in the hole, with onion gravy.  Considering Chris’s gift for making perfect Yorkshire puddings, this is a very exciting prospect for my tummy – not to mention perfectly suited to the unusual winter weather!

* Yes I realise all three of those examples involve pork.

Sorry for the pause, I know it’s been a week – I’m taking exams at the moment. Right, it’s time for another asparagus recipe before I get distracted by all the other food ideas floating around in my head. In my last asparagus post, I mentioned how I wanted to re-discover it and that I did, by eating it thinly shaved and raw as a salad. Now I’m going to the opposite end of the spectrum with some roasted asparagus. Eating it raw retains a fresh, pea-like flavour which I recently read is “partly caused by 2-alkyl-3-methoxy-pyrazines” – I’m sorry, what?! Anyhow, roasting it draws out the water and intensifies the flavour, a totally different experience.

For this recipe, I also roasted some garlic, as I wanted the mellow cloves to add to my caramelised lemon dressing (you could just use a very small amount of fresh garlic if you don’t want to do this – 1/2 clove). To caramelise the lemons you simply cut them in half and cook them flesh side down in a hot pan for a few minutes until charred. You can then squeeze their golden, sweetened juice into your dressing or whatever else you fancy. It’s a great way to jazz up the humble lemon a bit and is something we always fling on the barbecue for drizzling over grilled meats and fish.

I’ve made a ‘mimosa’ with the eggs – or pushed ‘em through a sieve, which I think is a great way to add a little richness to vegetables without covering them in butter. There is also something about the process of making eggs mimosa that I find extremely satisfying. If you ever made ‘hair’ out of clay and a sieve at primary school then you know what I’m talking about. A touch of parmesan goes in with the eggs for extra flavour and saltiness and the final flourish is some crispy, chilli fried breadcrumbs - a welcome kick and a great textural contrast. So we have intensely flavoured roasted asparagus, rich, slightly salty eggs, sweet lemon dressing and those spicy crumbs. It’s a bit like a really lazy gratin with less sauce.

I was also inspired by one of my favourite bloggers this morning (Sophie from Mostly Eating), when I read her post about what she will be eating this week. Sophie is a nutritionist and her blog is full of healthy recipes and tips for maintaining a balanced diet. Believe it or not, healthy eating is something I feel pretty strongly about and so I thought I’d give you a little snapshot of the kind of thing I eat on a day to day basis because I don’t sit around eating Opera cake all the time – honest! For lunch today I made this courgette, parsley and olive farro with lemon and chilli.

It’s basically a combination of things that I had available so I’ve given the recipe below although you could just adapt as necessary. I must say that the courgette-parsley-olive combo makes great pasta sauce too, especially with plenty of garlic and parmesan. Yum.

One last thing – there is now a link in the left hand side bar to ‘Eat the Seasons’, a great resource highlighting ingredients that are at their best in the UK right now (with an option to switch to the US and Canada). There’s also time for a brief update on my urban garden which you can see is coming along just great, in fact, it’s growing abnormally quickly.

The tomatoes and potatoes are totally unstoppable and I have some exciting new additions arriving this week too.You can see in the pictures that we had rain overnight in London but, hang on a minute – what’s that bright, light stuff? Oh yeah, that’s SUN! Remember that, UK residents?! I think it might possibly be back……

The asparagus recipe was originally intended as an entry for Scott and Julia’s event – In the Bag, which showcases seasonal ingredients but I missed the deadline. Hey ho.

Asparagus with Parmesan – Eggs Mimosa, Caramelised Lemon Dressing and Chilli Crumbs

2 ‘bundles’ green asparagus (around 20 spears in total)
4 hard boiled eggs
Parmesan to taste
1 large lemon, halved
1 slice stale bread, crusts removed and blended to make crumbs
1 red chilli, de-seeded (or not, I didn’t!) and finely chopped
Olive oil for frying

For the dressing

3 fat cloves roasted garlic (or 1/2 clove fresh, crushed)
1 level teaspoon wholegrain mustard
Juice of one caramelised lemon
Black pepper
Extra Virgin olive oil

Preheat the oven to 180C/Gas4/350F

- Bend each asparagus spear until it snaps and discard the woody ends. Put the asparagus in a roasting tray, drizzle lightly with olive oil and season with salt and pepper. Roast for around 15 minutes, depending on thickness – they should be just tender.
- Meanwhile, peel the eggs, put them in a sieve with a good grating of parmesan and then push through the sieve into a bowl.
- Heat a pan for the lemon, halve it, add a little oil and char it, flesh side down until blackened. Then, set aside while you begin to make the dressing, below.
- For the dressing, mush the garlic in a pestle and mortar with a little sea salt. Add some black pepper and the mustard and stir to combine. Add the caramelised lemon juice and scrape some of the nice caramelised bits from the surface of the lemon half into the dressing too. Add a few tablespoons of extra virgin olive oil. Whisk to emulsify and adjust the quantities to your taste.
- To make the crumbs, fry the chopped chilli with the crumbs in a little olive oil until golden and crispy.
- Serve the asparagus with some of the dressing poured on top, then the eggs, more dressing and finally those crispy crumbs.

Farro with Courgettes, Parsley and Olives

250g farro
3 small courgettes, grated
1 red chilli, finely chopped
Juice of 2 lemons
2 cloves garlic, finely chopped
1 red onion, finely sliced or diced
1 small bunch flat leaf parsley, leaves picked
20 kalamata olives, halved
Parmesan and lemon zest, to serve
1 tablespoon honey
3 tablespoons olive oil
Salt and pepper

- Put the grated courgettes in a colander, sprinkle with a little fine salt and put a plate on top to weight them down. Either put this in the sink or over a bowl to let the water drain out. I left them for about half an hour then got bored but they were fine.
- Cook the farro according to packet instructions.
- Soften the onion in olive oil until starting to caramelise, add the garlic and chilli for a couple of minutes and then add the courgettes (as soon as you smell any hint of the garlic burning, put your courgettes in).
- Cook the mixture for 10 minutes (ish). This is to lightly cook the courgettes and get rid of any remaining moisture.
- Whisk together the honey, lemon juice olive oil and some black pepper.
- Mix everything together in a serving bowl, pour over the dressing and finish with a good grating of parmesan and lemon zest.

As soon as the first asparagus appears I jump on it and consume as much as possible during the short 8 week season. It’s partly the delicate flavour which I find slightly addictive, partly the firm texture and the way it goes SO well with ingredients like ham, egg and cheese – but I’m sure my fascination owes a lot to novelty. I know that once the season is over, I can’t eat these delicious spears again until next year. Have you ever tried out of season, imported aspragus? It’s a load of rubbish. Asparagus from Peru? What?!

I’ve been lovingly gazing at the new quiche dish since I bought it, patiently waiting for the asparagus to appear. I bought the dish a few weeks ago in a charity shop, for a few pounds. Bargain. I buy a lot of my dishes in charity shops actually – you have to be in the mood though, it’s quite a skill rummaging through all the stuff you (really) don’t want just to find that diamond in the rough. I have the whole process down to a fine art now. It’s akin to the Londoner travelling mentality, which, if you are not familiar, involves every man and woman for themselves. Well, we’re not all like that of course, but there is an element of it in every Londoner – you know it’s true! It’s just that some of us can still manage to turn the corners of our mouths upwards into a SMILE and others have fogotten the art. Some of us can also manage to be polite and considerate, but now I’m sounding preachy so I’m going to stop.

So, quiche. I used pancetta in this one, together with some melting Gruyere, sautéed shallots and vibrant radish and pea shoots. Everything is held together with an unctuous dairy mix and finished with a fine grating of fabulous pecorino, a gift from a friend recently back from Italy. This pecorino is strong and studded with peppercorns.
I wanted something to cut through the richness of the quiche and thought this might be a good time to make my entry for Pixie and Rosie’s new event, ‘Putting Up‘. My entry is basically a variation on a previous pickle recipe that I loved so much I couldn’t wait to make again. I’ve just adapted it to the season. So, here we have a courgette, radish and kohlrabi pickle. It’s slightly mustardy and sweet-sour with cider vinegar and a touch of sugar. Its like a variation on Italian pickled veggies. It gave me an excuse to break out the Kilner jars again after last years chutney and pickled onions. I also used a good pinch of the ‘long peppers’ I bought at The Real Food Festival, crushed in the pestle and mortar but you can easily leave them out.

They have a sour taste and are quite different to a regular black peppercorn, fragrant and strong. I’ve mentioned before that they are catkins, isn’t that cool? The pickle will keep for months in the fridge – at least I think it will but I don’t anticipate it lasting that long.

Courgette, Radish and Kohlrabi Pickle

600ml cider vinegar
100g sugar
1 tablespoon wholegrain mustard
1.5 teaspoons black mustard seeds
1.5 tablespoons salt

20 red radishes
3 medium courgettes
2 small kohlrabi
1 very small onion
1 small sprig of dill, finely chopped

2 regular kilner-type jars or alternatives, sterilised (to sterilise your jars, wash them in hot soapy water and then rinse under very hot water. Put into a preheated oven (140C/275F/Gas 1 – minus any rubber seals – for 10 minutes).

- Cut all the vegetables into strips by hand, with a julienne peeler or using a grater.
- Put the veg in a large bowl, add the salt and cover with cold water. Stir to dissolve the salt and leave for around an hour or so. Drain the veg and pat them dry.
- Put the dill, vinegar, sugar, mustard and mustard seed into a saucepan and gently heat to a simmer. Let simmer for a few minutes and then cool until warm.
- Pour the liquid over the vegetables then decant everything into jars. Refrigerate.

Spring Quiche

Short crust pastry (I used ready-rolled, shocking! And I can’t remember how much I used, it was enough to line a 10″ quiche dish – sorry)
150g pancetta, cubed
13 asparagus spears, trimmed (hold at each end, bend gently until they snap, discard the woody end)
2 largeish shallots, finely sliced
1 clove garlic, crushed
A small handful of radish shoots and the same of pea shoots. You could substitute any leafy shoots here, or peas.
A small handful of chives, chopped
150ml milk
150ml double cream
3 large eggs
100g Gruyere cheese, grated
A grating of parmesan (optional)

A 10″ quiche or flan dish

Preheat oven to 180C/350F/Gas 4

- Roll out the pastry to cover the dish and carefully line it, patching up any holes, even the smallest, really well.
- Line the pastry with baking paper or foil and fill with baking beans, uncooked pulses or uncooked rice.
- Cook, middle shelf for 15 minutes. Remove, take out the paper and baking beans and prick all over the bottom with a fork. Cook 10 minutes more and allow to cool while you make the filling. turn the oven up to 190C/375F/Gas 5.
- Fry the shallots with the pancetta in a dry pan for a few minutes. Add the garlic for 30 seconds or so to soften, be careful not to burn.
- Mix the milk, cream, eggs and chives together with some black pepper (no salt, the pancetta is salty).
- Add the pancetta and shallot mixture to the pastry case and spread evenly. Sprinkle the shoots on top and then the cheese. Pour over the egg mix and arrange the asparagus on top, pushing down slightly to nestle them in. Grate some parmesan over if using.
- Cook, middle shelf for 30-35 minutes until golden brown and just set in the centre.

Frittatas are probably better than pasta for using up leftover bits and bobs, chuck it all together with some well beaten eggs and you’re sorted. The ingredients in this case are leftover from my Jersey Royal, Watercress and Feta Bread. I swapped feta for this ash-coated goat cheese, threw in some of my now-beloved Greek basil and drizzled it with some chunky black olive tapenade.

As ever, I like a slice of frittata much better cold, for lunch the next day. I guess it would be fairly healthy too, as long as you don’t cover it in cheese like I did. You’d be missing out though – on the golden crusty layer formed from a flash under the grill.

The trusty cast iron skillet has got to be the frittata maker’s best friend, in fact, it’s got be one of the most useful kitchen items ever. There’s nothing it can’t take – heat, soil, force, it’s indestructible. I am not however and the sheer weight of the thing has overwhelmed my puny wrists many a time.

I’m making the most of PSB (purple sprouting broccoli) season at the moment, it won’t be around for much longer and is just so much more exciting than it’s regular counterpart. A frittata is a perfect way to incorporate the flavours of the season without having to put in any effort at all.

I’ve been using a lot of kohlrabi this year too as I think it is such an underrated vegetable. For me, it’s best eaten raw to preserve that freshness and crisp texture. If you are lucky enough to find kohlrabi with leaves, don’t discard them, they are delish. Use them as you would spinach or other greens – I finely shredded them for this recipe.

Goat Cheese, PSB and Jersey Royal Frittata (with Black Olive Tapenade)

150g Jersey Royals, well washed and cut into bit size chunks
The leaves of one kohlrabi (or a handful of spinach or other greens), finely shredded
A small handful of watercress, chopped roughly
A small handful flat leaf parsley, chopped
A small handful Greek or regular basil
1-2 cloves garlic, crushed
1 medium onion, chopped (fairly chunky)
150g goat cheese log (not the really soft spreadable kind), cut into think slices
8 large eggs, beaten with a good grind of pepper and sea salt
A handful PSB

- Blanch the PSB in boiling salted water for a couple of minutes, then drain and refresh under cold water.
- Saute the onion in a little olive oil until softened, add the potato chunks, greens (and watercress) and garlic and saute for a couple more minutes.
- Spread this around in the pan to distribute evenly and lay the PSB on top, then sprinkle over half the herbs.
- Lay the goat cheese slices on top, then mix the remaining herbs into the eggs and pour over. Let cook gently for about 15 minutes or so until mostly set (apart from the top)
- Finish under a grill.
- Drizzle with black olive tapenade

Another frittata -

Salmon frittata with salsa verde

Kohlrabi -

Radish & Kohlrabi Pickle
Fennel & Kohlrabi Salad
Kohlrabi, Fennel and Beetroot Salad

Just think of how far salads have come! Cast your mind back to when ‘salad’ in the UK meant a sorry offering of cucumber, unripe tomatoes and worst of all, iceberg lettuce. If there were a hierarchy of lettuces, iceberg (for me) would definitely be at the bottom. Except maybe in a roast chicken-mayo sandwich, that’s OK. Anyway, it looks like winter might finally be over and our salads are coming over all summery.

I think that good chopped salads should be layers of seasonal ingredients such as the purple sprouting broccoli and chicory that I’ve used in this one. A chopped salad can become something more than the sum of its parts. I’ve given it a fattoush – y spin here with toasted pitta and radishes. Sumac is traditionally used to give fattoush it’s sour taste but I didn’t have any and I think the dill flavour works really well.

The dressing for this salad is made with anchovies, garlic and lemon and it’s fantastic. I can’t take the credit for it though, it was made by Chris for his salad that inspired this post (above photo). It really gives everything a zing. Dressings are so crucial aren’t they? Can you believe that we visited a restaurant recently where the salad arrived naked?! Undressed salad? How joyless. Those croutons Chris made are pretty damn delicious too; ciabatta cubes fried in rosemary and olive oil, finished with a good sprinkling of sea salt. Oh, and it’s got crispy bacon on top which is never a bad thing if you ask me.

You could mix any veggies into this salad really, depending on what is available but I do urge you to try this dressing, especially with hard boiled eggs and olives.

Super Salad

1/2 small red onion, finely sliced
10 small radishes, finely sliced
A small bunch of dill chopped
A small bunch of parsley, leaves picked
4 baby leeks
A generous handful of purple sprouting broccoli
1 tin chickpeas, drained
2 small pittas, toasted and chopped into bite size pieces
2 or 3 hard boiled eggs
15-20 kalamata olives (the stone-in ones have a much better flavour but it depends on whether you can be bothered and/or have an olive pitter)
2 heads chicory, leaves separated
Chris’ anchovy dressing (see below)

- Um, mix everything together!

Chris’ Salad

A couple of handfuls of salad leaves
1 hass avocado, chopped (either do this last or squeeze some lemon juice on it)
4 rashers streaky bacon, grilled until crisp and chopped
A handful of cherry tomatoes
2 or 3 hard boiled eggs
A grating of parmesan to finish

For the croutons

1 small ciabatta roll, a day old if possible
Olive oil
A small sprig of rosemary, chopped
Sea salt

- Cube the ciabatta and fry in some olive oil and the rosemary until crisp. Finish with a generous sprinkling of sea salt.
- Mix with the other ingredients

Chris’ Anchovy dressing

12-15 anchovy fillets, finely chopped
1 small clove garlic, crushed
A small handful of chives, finely chopped
A small handful of parsley, finely chopped
Juice of half a lemon
A grind of black pepper
A small dash of cider vinegar
Enough extra virgin olive oil to loosen everything to a dressing

- Crush the garlic and add to a pestle and mortar (usually I would crush it in the mortar with a pinch of salt but consider those anchovies….).
- Add the anchovies and work them in really well.
- Do the same with the herbs – as much as you can so it is all emulsified.
- Add the black pepper, lemon juice and vinegar and mix.
- Add the olive oil and whisk to emulsify.

If you like salads try my

Farro Salad with Rose Harissa Dressing
Watermelon, Caerphilly and Pumpkin Seed Salad
Feta, Chicory and Orange Salad
Kohlrabi, Fennel and Beetroot Salad
Broad (and Soy) Bean Salad with Pancetta
Fennel and Kohlrabi Salad
Globe Artichoke Salad
Potato Salad
Pear and Beetroot Salad
Rainbow Tomato Salad with Buffalo Mozzarella

From the blogosphere -

Kalyn does a great chop salad
Cardamom Citrus Fruit Salad from Simply Recipes – Genius!
Roasted Butternut, Feta and Pine Nut Salad from Jeanne
Lebanese Potato Salad from Hommos and Tabbouli
Roasted Beetroot and Halloumi Salad from Wendy