Jottage from Cambridge - Corner Shop Spanakopitta

Mixing the spinach, onion,
lemon and egg

It was hard to resist making something called ‘Spanakopitta’ even though I wasn’t wholly convinced that I was going to like it. Although I love spinach a dish containing a whole kilogram of the stuff seemed a bit excessive. Anyway as my mother wrote in her last blog Hugh rarely disappoints, and I’ve found over the last few weeks that what I would have dismissed straightaway suddenly seems quite tempting. It’s a truism I think that the more you cook the more appetite you have for cooking and, what would have looked like an alien recipe with ‘they surely won’t sell that in Sainsbury’s ingredients’, seems like a dish that can be knocked up between the end of Tristan’s dinner and the beginning of the game show that I’ve become strangely addicted to, ‘Pointless’. 

Adding the feta and pine nut

The Spanakopitta took about 30 minutes to put together – I am in total agreement with my mother about the amount of washing up that that Hugh’s meals require though and I’m sure it took at least the same amount of time to get my kitchen ship-shape again. It was a satisfying thing to make. I plonked Tristan in the high chair so that he could watch the spinach wilt on the stove, the pine-nuts toast under the grill and the onion gently sauté with the fresh thyme that competes for sunlight with the basil and hyacinths on my windowsill. I put it in the fridge and cooked it later on that evening so that my husband could enjoy a meal straight from the oven: he generally has to warm up his meals in the microwave as I’ve eaten a couple of hours earlier. It was a total success, though Theo thought that it could have done with more feta. We have more filling left over than pastry so I’ve decided to make little pasties with the remainder of the spinach concoction. Unfortunately the pie was a bit too salty to share with Tristan, but we’re planning on making the lamb with lemon and barley this weekend (Everyday book p.220) which I am certain he is going to love. 

The End Result

     

Jottage from Cambridge - Digestives

I wasn’t all that thrilled that it was Monday yesterday either (see previous post). My poor husband left for work at the crack of dawn to attend an early morning meeting, and it already felt like it was going to be a long week. However I did have something to look forward to. A couple of my close friends were coming round with their babies, and I had promised them tea and cake. However, not quite having the strength to make a cake I thought I would make Hugh’s digestives (Everyday, p.88) which my mum had told me were delicious. I set to work taking out all the ingredients I would need and assembling them on the kitchen table. Theo and I have a very impressive range of sugars so I wasn’t surprised to find that I had the required soft brown variety. The biscuits took no time at all to make and I thought they looked quite tasty when I took them out of the oven. I was just relaxing with Tristan when another friend mailed to say she was in town and was I doing anything. I decided to invite her to the house too, but that would require making another batch of biscuits as the pile I had made looked a bit paltry for four adults. 

James, Tristan, Isabel and Margot 

I had actually made a big batch of dough (Hugh says that it keeps in the fridge for a few days) so all I had to do was warm it up with my hands (it turns as hard as rock after an hour or two in the cold), roll out and put in the oven. So, by 2.30 when everyone arrived the kettle was on and I had a nice looking plate of biscuits. I decided to add a few chocolate digestives that I had in the cupboard just in case my homemade ones weren’t all that pleasant. So the outcome … Well either no-one was that hungry or my biscuits weren’t especially good. Alas, I think probably the latter. They were far too salty, and certainly to be kept well away from the babies. I did actually give Tristan a bit of one but he wasn’t that interested – though it wasn’t yellow and banana-shaped so not all that surprising. I reluctantly ate a couple but the pile remained undisturbed for most of the afternoon. 

Uneaten plate of digestives (the plate looked the same after all the tea had been drunk)

Everyone was too polite to take the McVities as I had made such a fuss about making my own biscuits (to the extent that I told everyone that they had been invited round purely so I could write a new post for my blog). I tried to tempt Theo when he got back from work but he nibbled the corner of one and then agreed with me that they were far too salty. So, that was my first Hugh disaster. I might try them again without salt, but for now I will be content with the shop-bought kind. 

Jottage from Lancaster/Cambridge - Lemon Tart

I have been lacking a bit in inspiration over the festive season, hence not putting up any new posts at all. However I couldn’t resist reporting on the concoction of a very delicious lemon tart. The recipe came from the River Cottage Family Cookbook (pp. 52-3) – one of my Christmas presents. The book is full of lovely pictures and is clearly meant to be used by young children (there are quite a few pictures of cute kids peeling, chopping and eating things). It is neatly divided up into the major food groups – flour, milk, eggs etc. – with descriptions at the beginning of each chapter about what extraordinary things can be created from the most basic ingredients. The lemon tart was the most obvious thing to make as my mother had already bought a load of lemons, and my husband adores lemon tart more than pretty much anything else. Supermarket brands of lemon tart are generally pretty good, and for about 3.99 you can get yourself a nice tart which might even be sprinkled with some icing sugar. I was intrigued to know what it would taste like if I made it myself though.

Ethan and Amelia making breadcrumbs from butter and flour

This was my first attempt at making a lemon tart and I had no idea how time-consuming it was going to be. Hugh’s recipe was fairly straightforward  but there were a surprising number of steps and not much explanation at certain points – for example, he didn’t explain why the pastry needed to be pricked with a fork, or why a baking sheet needed to be warmed up in the oven. Also, what on earth are baking beans for and what would have happened if we hadn’t used them? Pastry is pretty fragile stuff it seems, and needs a lot of care and attention. I gathered the assistance of my 5 year old nephew, Ethan, and 2 year old niece Amelia, and – as the pictures below reveal – they got stuck in mixing the flour and butter together.

Tristan making sure that we follow the recipe correctly

However I couldn’t really interest them in the next stage (too many Christmas presents to play with)– a pity as there can’t be many things more satisfying than mixing together butter, sugar, eggs and lemons. We poured the gloopy mix into our perfect pastry case and warmed it slightly under the grill before eating. Unlike shop bought tarts the filling was very runny, but it was a perfect shade of yellow – not pale at all, but the colour of real lemons. There were no complaints at the table that night, and there wasn’t a scrap of pastry left.

The final product - edges slightly burned as we didn't read the bit which suggested you cover the sides in foil

Jottage from Lancaster/Cambridge - Lemon Tart the prequel

I bought the River Cottage Family Cookbook from Beverley. That's not to say that I didn't have it already as I had bought a copy from Amazon, but I saw one for 4.99 in W H Smith and I thought I would buy one for Heather. It wasn't long after this that the dilemma hit me - should I give my daughter the new one - or the second hand Amazon copy? In the end, she confidently picked up the new one and declared it as 'hers' which solved it very neatly. But that's not the point of this blog. As we are all together this Christmas there has been a lot of opportunities for cooking big quantities and some chance of cooking with the children. 


In the end, it was Heather who decided to have a go at the Lemon Tart. She has written her blog about this in Lemon Tart Part 1 so there isn't much more to say about that - but that it was really, really lovely. Much nicer than anything you can buy in the shops and far more lemony. So I thought I would introduce some of the cooks involved:

Ethan aged 5

Amelia aged 2

Tristan aged 9 months

Jottage from Cambridge – The Art of the Kitchen

When I was about eight months pregnant my bump suddenly started to grow in size by the day and, before long, it was almost impossible to get past my husband in our tiny kitchen. Cooking is something that we’ve always enjoyed doing together (n.b. Hugh’s Chicken Curry is a fabulous recipe to make with another person as there are lots of components (each complicated in their own way, and worthy of admiration by your other half) which are thrown into the same pot), but given the size of our kitchen it was always going to be a challenge in this house – even without a bump! So, imagine my delight when we started looking to buy a property in Cambridge and the place we agreed on had an enormous kitchen – in fact it was the biggest kitchen I had ever had the pleasure of using on a daily basis. So, this made me think about some of the kitchens I have had to contend with, and how they compare. Also, from writing this post, I have realised that over the past ten years I have switched loyalties (from Delia, to Jamie and now to River Cottage) depending on where I’ve lived and personal circumstances. 

Unsurprisingly the kitchen I encountered at my University Hall of Residence wasn’t up to much, and Baked Bean toasties were probably the extent of my culinary repertoire for those three years. I do remember buying packets of Safeway Savers fish fingers too so perhaps I did use the oven. (Like everyone else I had a Student Cookbook, though I’m certain I never used it.) It wasn’t until I was studying for my second degree that I discovered pesto. It was a perfect match and, after a night out or a day of dull seminars, nothing quite compared to spaghetti mixed with pesto and tomatoes and sprinkled with parmesan. I lived with three girls that I didn’t get on with at all so, although the kitchen in our shared house was ok, I didn’t want to spend any more time in it than I had to  another reason why I consumed so much pesto. 

Moving to London for my first job in 2000 I lived in a cheap flat in Cricklewood with a surprisingly large kitchen. Suddenly I had sophisticated friends who weren’t afraid to attend private views at the Serpentine Gallery with arty types. They invited me round for homemade pizzas and meals that didn’t come out of a packet. It was all very frightening, especially when one of my very best friends described coming round to another person’s house and being served pizza from a box! I was that very friend, though she had clearly forgotten it was me and I didn’t confess to such a faux-pas. However, I didn’t really take advantage of this big kitchen (and I was fairly terrified of my landlady who lived with me at the time and I didn’t want to spend too much time weighing out ingredients in our shared space), so going out to Pizza Express or Wagamamas became an almost weekly event. Also I never went out with anyone for long enough in those early years to need more than one recipe, so experimenting in the kitchen was hardly a priority. When I invited a boy round for dinner I would always give them pasta served with roast veg, passata and bacon. This was exactly what I gave to Theo (my now husband) when he first came round. It was quite frightening when I realised we were becoming more committed to each other, and a second invitation would be necessary. I didn’t know what on earth to serve up that would impress him (though my pasta dish probably didn’t win his heart so a good cook probably wasn’t top of his criteria for a girlfriend). Delia came to the rescue. Over the following months I served him up all kinds of meals which I printed out at work from Delia online. We also discovered that cooking was something we enjoyed doing together so some of the burden was taken off my shoulders. He adored cooking with fish, not something I had eaten much of previously – see ‘A Fishy Dilemma’ – and the stir fry became the fast-food option rather than pizza.  

I’m part of the generation who adores Jamie Oliver. I doubt that I have any friends who don’t have a pile of his books stacked up on their kitchen counters with well-worn pages. Moving to Manchester in 2007 I bought one of those characterless flats in the ‘trendy’ Northern Quarter, and Jamie became part of the furniture. All painted white (the lease actually forbids the tenants from painting the walls any other colour) the kitchen was an add-on to the main living space. Although it wasn’t very big, I found it perfectly suited my needs. The trick was not to make anything too complicated (which is where Jamie really comes in) so that when friends came round for dinner they wouldn’t see me getting all flustered in the kitchen. Instead I would pour them a glass of wine and try and keep myself sober while I made a recipe I knew by heart. I invited various new acquaintances round for dinner, and a risotto of some kind, or indeed homemade pizza (see Jamie’s Italian), was always on the menu. 

From Manchester to Cambridge, and I have already described the contrasting kitchens I have experienced here. As you can see from the photo I now have ample space – Tristan is at the centre of things and around him are cupboards, and a huge stove which have eight hobs, and two ovens! I even have a shelf in one cupboard for my expanding collection of Tupperware. I will definitely make the most of my new fancy kitchen and, in the spirit of this blog, will endeavour to concoct as many things as possible from my River Cottage cookbook. Living just off Mill Road with a wealth of food shops surrounding me I should be able to source all the ingredients and, with dinner parties becoming rare treats, it feels worth venturing beyond Jamie and Delia and into new territory. 

Too small for me and a bump...

Big enough for all of us and more...

Jottage from Cambridge - Polenta and How Much Does it Cost to Feed a Baby?

I have managed to get through the first thirty-four years of my life without using polenta, or indeed knowing what it is. Yet when I typed ‘polenta’ into the recipe finder on Epicurious, 173 recipes were returned, including a dazzling array of cheesecakes, stews and lasagnes. Thanks to Hugh I now have a large packet of the bright yellow stuff sitting in my cupboard, having used it to make the polenta chips (Baby & Toddler Cookbook) for Tristan. Polenta is ever such a funny thing. Made from yellow cornmeal it quickly thickens up into a grainy paste if you add a splash of water. I don’t find the taste particularly pleasant, and most of Tristan’s chips ended up on the floor – though the quantity of leftovers is by no means a measure of how much Tristan likes or dislikes something. More about that later.


Polenta is considered ‘peasant food’; perhaps less so now though as again I had to go to Arjuna to get a packet as it wasn’t stocked in the supermarket. It’s pretty cheap though (see photo) which leads me on to the next section of this post about the cost of feeding a baby.

All you really need in the first week of weaning is a carrot and a packet of baby rice (£1.64). In the next week you might introduce apples and pears, but the baby isn’t really going to eat anything which might break the bank. Within a couple of months though, when the baby is on three meals a day, the costs start rising and tins of sardines and mackerel, as well as unsalted butter, whole milk and yogurt (I have just acquired a yogurt maker – more on this coming soon), quickly become staples. However, although there are a few more packets in our larder (along with polenta, we now always have  Weetabix, porridge, baby pasta, and peanut butter, as well as the above), Tristan generally eats our leftovers. This, of course, saves time and money and means that I only really need to think about what to give him on toast for lunch as the other meals are covered. However, what if I had succumbed to all the brightly coloured pots and pouches which even the dinkiest Tesco and Sainsbury’s stock? Even Annabel Karmel who, judging from her Complete Baby & Toddler Meal Planner appears to encourage home cooking, has her own range of baby meals at £2.29 a pop. Heinz probably rule the school though with a range strangely called ‘Mums Own’, even though all Mum has done is open up her purse and gotten a few Clubcard points.  So imagine a typical day as below:


Breakfast: Heinz Mum's Own Recipe, Apple & Banana Breakfast 128g = 65p
Lunch: Heinz Mum's Own Recipe, Cheesy Tomato Pasta Stars 200g = 62p
Dinner: Heinz Mum's Own Recipe Vegetable Hot Pot with Chicken 250g = 84p + Heinz Egg Custard Dessert, 128g = £0.42
Total: £2.53


So each week you could be spending nearly £18 on baby food. (n.b. Sainsbury’s prices in November 2011)


Now, I don’t know anyone who actually feeds their little ones Heinz pots for every meal, but I bet some do. If you choose to be organic and buy the Ella’s Kitchen range or anything branded Plum you would be even poorer - in some stores each pouch costs £1 or more. These meals do serve a purpose though and, when you’re out and about, it’s really handy having a nutritious meal on hand (I know one baby who will only eat Hipp Porridge though which must be quite frustrating!) and I did have a variety of Ella’s Kitchen meals when we holidayed in Cornwall. In fact, in these days of baby-led, there’s a bit of a fear of being judged with a baby ready meal. In the café at Cambridge’s Botanical Gardens last weekend I had a box packed with peanut butter on toast cut into fingers, a banana and a pouch. I noticed the woman sitting across from us was trying to give her little girl of approximately the same age a few pieces of bread, and slices of cucumber. She also had spoons filled with some concoction laid out on the table for her daughter to pick up and put in her mouth. As Tristan didn’t seem to have eaten many of his peanut buttered fingers and the café floor was looking worse for wear, I contemplated opening my pouch of Ella’s Kitchen butternut squash, carrots, apples and prunes, but feared disapproving looks. I enviously looked at the other woman, though her daughter wasn’t making progress either and, as I was leaving, I noticed her getting out a little pot of Heinz baby food from her bag! That made me feel much better. So not only, in these austere times, can people still afford expensive baby food, but it also seems that many people are willing to follow Rapley up to a point and then succumb to puree which, if it comes from a pouch, has the texture and gloss of Pantene Pro-V, though hopefully tastes nicer.

Jottage from Cambridge - Soggy Weetabix or How to Start Weaning

The word ‘weaning’ in the context of babies is incredibly annoying. It seems to imply that they’re coming off something, so you could easily assume that, sometime between four and six months, you should stop feeding them milk, and exclusively offer solid food. Nothing could be further from the truth. Milk remains the most important source of

nourishment for babies until they’re at least a year old, and probably even beyond. So, when Tristan was five months old and I decided to start weaning I didn’t confine my feeding bras to the back of the wardrobe, but rather thought more carefully about the best time to
give Tristan milk feeds so that he was hungry enough to eat three meals a day too.
If you haven’t waited until the baby is six months old then you’re bound to start them off on baby rice and pureed carrot or, if you’re feeling really adventurous, both mixed together. There was quite a build-up of excitement to giving Tristan his first meal, and my husband and I both eagerly awaited his reaction as we launched the
Tommy Tippee spoon into his mouth. When I put the first spoonful of carrot in his mouth he gave me a terrified look, certain that this orange coloured mush was going to poison him. However, somehow the second spoonful wasn’t quite as bad as the first, and an ice cube sized portion of carrot was demolished within a few minutes. Of course the same meal took much longer the next day, but that’s just how weaning goes. Some days your baby’s inner Popeye comes out and he can’t get enough spinach, and then you’re worried that he’ll only ever eat mangos which are a particular shade of yellow. 

Overall my experience has been very positive though and Tristan, so long as he’s not too tired (note that overtiredness is the reason why most babies start yelling and arching their backs at the first sight of a spoon) eats pretty much everything, with the exception of lentils which, quite understandably, he absolutely loathes. The ice cube trays so beloved of Karmel and co. have now been replaced with little pots
(note that all the mummys in the know get their Tupperware from Poundland), and generally Tristan eats good sized portions. Within a few days I had moved on from carrots to butternut squash soup (with
extra cumin to give it a nice warm flavour), and really any combination of the following: spinach, potato, sweet corn, courgettes, baked beans, peas, and peppers, mixed up with meat or fish. So, now at
just over seven months, a typical day looks like the following:
7am: milk
8am Breakfast: Bowl of porridge mixed with grated apple or mashed up
banana, or Weetabix with milk. For us breakfast is always the easiest
meal, mainly because Tristan adores porridge. Weetabix, which I used
to dread having to eat as a child, I now consider one of the greatest
inventions of the last century.
10am: milk
11.30 Lunch: I generally do baby-led at lunchtime which is usually
something on toast, such as cheese and apple, (see Baby & Toddler
Cookbook p.175) sardines, cream cheese or baked beans. Unless you
weigh the food before and after your baby has spent time with it
(Hugh’s advice is that meals should last no longer than half an hour
which I think is just about right) it’s impossible to know how much
they’ve eaten, and indeed it’s incredible where you find half-eaten
bits of bread. Therefore I often give Tristan banana mixed with
full-fat natural or Greek yogurt afterwards just to make sure that
he’s eaten enough.
4pm milk
5pm Teatime:  I used to make a special meal for Tristan, but now I try
and give him the leftovers of whatever my husband and I have eaten the
night before. The only real no-no for babies (besides honey which is
the latest fad thing to avoid as it’s been associated with botulism,
and certain types of fish which contain lots of mercury) is salt
(sugar too isn’t allowed). Low-salt stock cubes are the answer (I
apologise Hugh but, however much time I might have to spare, I will
never bring myself to make my own stock), and unsalted butter. So
Tristan happily eats minced beef, risotto and any kind of meat stew
for his dinner. If the latter is a bit watery, which it often is after
a spell in the freezer, I add baby rice or baby pasta to thicken it
up.
7pm milk

Despite eating all this food and, since you’re no doubt wondering, I’ll tell you that Tristan still doesn’t sleep through the night, but demands a couple of night feeds, usually around 11pm and 3am. However,
although I moan all the time about the fact that my baby still isn’t sleeping through, there is something quite nice about touching base with Tristan during the night. We snuggle up together while everyone else is sleeping and think about all the lovely things we’re going to eat in the days ahead.

Jottage from Cambridge - Spelt

What is this obsession with spelt? This strange ingredient has
suddenly appeared on supermarket shelves, presumably in response to
all the food writers who seem to adore what Wikipedia introduces as a
‘hexaploid species of wheat’. According to the same source you’ve been
able to buy spelt from the supermarket for nearly five years now,
although products made from the stuff can only really be bought from
health food shops. I couldn’t wait to try Tristan on the Spelt and
Apple Stars (note that organic baby biscuits are horribly expensive,
even more so when you consider that half the biscuit will end up as a
crumb on your nicely hoovered floor) in the Baby & Toddler Cookbook
and, although my mother was sure that any old flour would do really, I
determined (this time) to follow Hugh’s recipe to the letter. Living
within walking distance of an Asda, Sainsbury’s and 24 Hour Tesco I
thought it would be piece of cake finding what Hugh specified as
‘unrefined spelt flour’. My quest was unsuccessful however, and
although I did manage to find spelt flour at all three supermarkets,
the place to buy ‘unrefined’ spelt flour remained something of a
mystery. Anyway I didn’t need to look any further than Arjuna on
Cambridge’s Mill Road.


Arjuna is the kind of store that I used to run a mile from, assuming
that they only stocked muesli, incredibly expensive organic skincare
products and everything either gluten, wheat or taste free. However on
the day I decided to make the short walk from my house down Mill Road
to Arjuna (note that my previous pram wouldn’t actually fit through
the door very easily so the trip was only really possible when I had
invested in a lightweight buggy) I was in for a huge treat. I spent at
least twenty minutes in there, eyeing up the different kinds of flour,
chocolates, and lovely baby foods (I don’t especially like muesli so
their display was wasted a bit on me). Most things were much cheaper
than in the supermarket too – this was clearly the place to buy herbs
and spices, as well as porridge oats and exotic juices. Of course I
found my wholemeal spelt flour too and, after I had been to buy a
star-shaped cookie cutter (I told you I was following Hugh’s recipe
diligently this time), I rushed home to make the cookies. Tristan
loved them, and I decided to take them to his swimming lesson so he
could share them with his baby friends. They naturally gobbled them
all up so I had to make another batch. Thankfully though I now have
enough unrefined spelt flour to last until he’s old enough to eat and
enjoy custard creams.

Jottage from Cambridge/Lancaster - Baked Chicken Curry

The thing about cookery books which puts me off the most is the long
list of ingredients required to make the meal, usually tantalisingly
illustrated opposite the very detailed, and occasionally wordy,
method. Who has fenugreek, turmeric or chilis on hand? Well,
strangely, and given that I now have a baby to feed who probably
shouldn’t be fed custard creams – note that there has never a custard
cream shortage in our household – I do have all of the above in our
larder. (Note that Tristan doesn’t need a teaspoon of fenugreek on his
banana porridge in the morning to make it go down, but I generally
spend much more time in the kitchen now, and I’m out and about more so
I have built up an impressive selection of herbs and spices.)


So, picking up a recipe book now doesn’t seem quite so daunting, and
when I turned to page 223 of the Everyday book the Chicken Curry
seemed like quite a straightforward dish. Of course I didn’t quite
have everything, but I thought that I probably wouldn’t be able to
taste the fennel seeds so why add them?, and a wilted red chilli which
had been in the fridge for a number of weeks would work in place of
the green chili specified in the recipe. And that I think is what
cooking is all about – knowing when to leave things out, and making
substitutions wherever possible. For a kick off this means that every
time I make the chicken curry it will taste slightly different, and
also I’ll hopefully end up throwing away less food from the fridge.
But cookery writers are loathe to admit that their recipe will still
work without that all important spoonful of cornflour, or that two
garlic cloves will work just as well as three. However Hugh (my mother
and I now refer to him by his first name as we feel that he is already
part of the family) does start off the method with the line … ‘If
you’ve got the time, toast the cumin etc.’ which does seem to imply
that if you want to knock up a chicken curry between the end of
Neighbours and getting the baby prepared for his bath then it’ll
probably taste just as nice. However, if your way of winding down is
by spending time in the kitchen then why not? – you might just end up
tasting that moment of extra trouble.


Well, how did it taste? It was just delicious – the chicken swimming
in a rich turmeric stained liquid and, like Hugh, we served it with a
neat pile of white rice. In fact my chicken curry looked exactly like
the picture in the book! I blended up a few of the leftovers and gave
it to Tristan the next day. He had no complaints either, though I
think he thought I should have added an extra teaspoonful of fenugreek
which I’ll make sure to do next time I turn to page 223.


I am adding a postscript here as I made the Chicken Curry after Heather tried it. We both made enough for two nights and she didn't think it was as good the second night - but we loved it just the same. As Heather says - it comes out exactly like the picture in the book...


Heather's Chicken Curry

My Chicken Curry...

The picture in the book...

 Amazing!!!!

Jottage from Cambridge/Lancaster

We just thought of it - one Friday night; to write a blog about our experiences cooking using the River Cottage Everyday recipe book and the River Cottage Baby and Toddler Cookbook.


How this came about and our thoughts and experiences along the way will be the subject of this blog and we are just writing it for our own amusement.


Firstly Tristan's lunch of cheese and apple on toast....

and Tristan eating it...

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Location:Cromwell Rd,Cambridge,United Kingdom