Soup: celeriac and bramley apple

Last winter for a while I posted a soup recipe every week. This winter, as soon as the cold winter started, I started making soup again. For a long while I got away with last year's recipes, but eventually I got bored and started again.

 

I like this soup because the smooth, earthy flavour of the celariac goes so well with the sharp freshness of the apples. It's tasty, filling, easy and healthy - next to no fat, and no Weightwatchers points.

A soup so scrumptious it got me blogging again: Thai carrot and coriander

The weekly huge batches of soup started up again about six weeks ago. Once again it's cold enough in Edinburgh for a huge mug of warm, comforting soup to be the best possible lunch option.

Up until this weekend I'd been repeating myself, cooking things I'd done (and usually blogged) before. One week the weekend was so busy we bought a stack of cans of soup instead. The world didn't end, although gratifyingly they weren't as good, as healthy or as cheap as the ones I make.

But this one is so good I had to share. It's based on one my aunt gave us for lunch when we went to visit last weekend - a delicious bought fresh soup. The budget's too tight for us to buy fresh soup for weekday lunches, so when we got home we decided to experiment, and came up with the following. It's got a kick to it, and is thoroughly warming and filling on a cool day. Lovely. And if you care about such things it's very low fat, and only one propoint a portion.

Guacamole-ish

I've been having some luck with the special offers corner in my local Waitrose lately. After the £1.11 beef joint which yielded two steaks and two rather yummy salads, I've been casting my eye over it every time I walk past. I've never got that lucky again, but for one, wonderful week, it became apparent that someone was putting the ripe and ready to eat avocados into the discount shelf at 6pm on the day they went out of date. As ripe and ready to eat avocados rarely are, I grabbed them thinking they'd be good - and most of them were. Bizarrely, though, one pack of two consisted of one gorgeously soft avocado - and one so hard it could have been made of rubber.

I'd planned to make this guacamole recipe, one from the hairy bikers that I picked because it didn't contain cream or mayo or anything else odd - I wanted it to taste super-fresh, not like a dip. But the recipe calls for three avocados. I'd planned to make it with two, reducing things slightly - I used a couple of chillies, rather than four, and just one tomato - which would have been fine. But after the rubber avocado, I found myself with a pile of chopped other ingredients, and just one av. So I shrugged and ended up making it with one.

It worked. The result was light, fresh and zingy. It still had the creaminess of the one super ripe avocado, but in texture it was more like a salsa. As someone who's never been that fussed by most salsas - I'm not the world's biggest tomato fan - it was like a perfect blend of salsa and guacamole.

It tasted so light and fresh I didn't want it with tortilla chips or anything greasy - so instead, we use lettuce leaves. They were perfect - little scoops. And because they were so healthy, I didn't feel in the least bit guilty about polishing off a lot of guacamole in one go!

Spicy parmasan crackers

  

It probably won't come as any surprise to anyone who's noticed the masthead that I rather like gin. The blog name comes from my twitter name, which in turn takes inspiration from a Dresden Dolls song, "Coin-operated boy", and was actually my husband's suggestion - the idea being that I come alive once gin is inserted. True, but in an emergency, wine, or even a nice cup of tea, will do.

But if I have a weakness for a nice gin and tonic, I have even more of a weakness for nibbly things to go with it. Although I like chocolate and enjoy cake, they're seldom my downfall. I am able, should I want to, to eat both in moderation.

When it comes to crisps and savoury nibbles, all moderation goes out of the window. These can't be kept in stock - they must be bought, a couple of packets on a Friday to last us the weekend. I've been known to hide packs of crisps bought on special offer in a different room so I don't see them when I'm opening the kitchen cupboards and become tempted. And while I love posh crisps, I love cheesy crispy things even more. You know the ones - the things that cost at least a couple of pounds a packet, where you look at the calories, go "that's not bad", and the realised it's per three nibbles. Who eats three nibbles?

So when I saw this recipe over at Domestic Sluttery, for parmesan and poppy seed crackers, I had to give them a go - especially as there was surprisingly little butter and parmesan in the recipe. (I am in no way suggesting these as a diet food. It's just they could be a lot worse.)

I liked the recipe, but made a couple of changes for the sake of ease - I didn't bother refrigerating the dough for ten minutes before rolling it into shape, as I have cold enough hands that it didn't go all sticky. And because it was slightly stickier than it would otherwise have been, I was able to roll it in the poppyseeds without needing to mess around with an egg glaze.

Because I wanted nibbles, I rolled it much smaller than recommended - roughly an inch in diameter. This meant that when I cut it up, after being good and putting it into the fridge for half an hour, I had hundreds of the things. Well, eighty.

After baking they certainly looked the part. Only thing was - they were VERY spicey, which was odd, since the recipe only described a "gentle warmth". I don't know if my cayenne pepper is particularly strong, but half a teaspoon was a lot, and they were perhaps more hot than was fun (still finished them all, natch). So next time I'll halve the cayenne. But there will be a next time. Possibly this weekend.

Comfort food: cuppy egg

When I was a little girl, my mother would sometimes - as a great treat - give us cuppy egg for supper, or for lunch when we were off school sick.

It was the most simple thing - egg, chopped with butter and a pinch of salt, served in a tea cup, eaten with a teaspoon, with toast.

I've made it every now and then since, mostly as a quick snack for one - a lunch; a simple but luxurious solitary supper.

But the other day I was feeling brittle. Emotionally and physically tender, for no particular reason. And when it came to lunchtime, and The Husband was suggesting all sorts of special salads, I stuck my bottom lip out and explained I wanted cuppy egg.

It was only when I started cooking it that I realised I'd never served it to him - I've probably made it for myself when getting better from feeling ill once or twice, but never for him. In fact, he was expecting the slightly more sophisticated oeufs en cocotte - for which, a recipe another time, I promise.

But a smile broke out as he realised what he was actually getting, and the result - above - was delicious. I realised we didn't have any teacups, so instead I served it in a couple of mugs, with hot, buttered toast.

So, here you go. For the days when you're feeling a little fragile.

Cuppy Egg

Ingredients (per person)
Two eggs
Knob of butter
Chives (optional, my mum never used them, but they do add something)
Pinch of salt
Bread and butter for toast.

Hard boil your eggs (about 9 minutes, put the toast on about a minute before they're done), and then replace the hot water in the pan with cold, to stop the edge of the yolks going grey.
Working quickly, peel and quarter your eggs, one by one, and drop the pieces into your teacup or small mug.
Add a knob of butter and a pinch of salt.
Using two knives in a scissor movement, chop the eggs and butter up into small pieces in the cup, and mix it all up, until you have something that can easily be eaten with a teaspoon.
Chop the chives over the top if using.
The toast should pop up just about now. Butter it and quarter it, and serve on a plate with the cup or mug of egg, and a teaspoon. The teaspoon is important!

I eat it partly with the spoon, partly scooping the mixture onto the toast.

Now go and curl up somewhere with a good book and a cup of tea. It'll all be better soon.

An easy lunch at home: portabella mushroom and halloumi burgers

Another weekend lunch recipe that's just too easy to be called a recipe.

Portabella mushrooms instead of burgers is hardly a new idea. I first came across the idea in a Nigel Slater book years ago, and now they've made their way onto pretty much every pub menu as a veggie burger alternative.

But I hadn't done one at home for ages, and so on Saturday, we had this for lunch. And on Sunday, too, because the burger buns came in packs of four, we didn't have any room in the freezer, and it was lovely.

Per person:
A portabella mushroom, the size of a burger, or if you can only get smaller ones, enough to fill a burger bun.
A few slices of halloumi
If you have a jar of roasted red peppers around, or a red pepper, worth popping one in
Something with chilli - I used sweet chilli sauce
A scrape of mayo
A burger bun.

Grill the mushrooms and halloumi, turning after a few moments when needed. If you're using fresh peppers, grill alongside, if not, just whack 'em under the grill for the last few seconds to warm up a bit. At some point while they're grilling, put the burger buns under the grill for a few seconds to toast.

Whip out the burger buns, spread with mayo and your chilli sauce of choice.

When everything is done, assemble into an amazing stack of burger-like goodness and DEVOUR.

I was so keen to eat my burger that I didn't check if the picture I'd taken was sharp. I've done my best in photoshop, but sorry, it's still not great! I served it with green salad with a squeeze of lime juice on top - if it had been supper, not lunch, I would have added wedges alongside.

A summer work packed lunch

 

A few weeks ago, I stopped posting weekly soup recipes, because I'd stopped making soup for packed lunches at work.

But what have I been eating in the meantime? Now, I'll admit that, having spent more days not working in April than working, thanks to a magical combination of bank holidays and birthday annual leave, I've not had to be quite as organised as usual. And there have been one or two weeks where I've just nipped out to the Co-op near work or even to Pret if I was feeling flush.

However, most of the time it's been salads, based around beans or grains, with lots of veg, and a little bit of cheese, or tuna, to perk it up.

This is one of my favourites - bulgar wheat salad. Very loosely based on tabbouleh. Even more so at the moment, when my new parsley plant is looking too fragile to plunder and I'm not putting any in!

These quantities serve 4, or two people for two days. I'll admit that if we're having something like this I'll boil double quantities of wheat on Sunday, get it cold as quickly as possible, save half, and make up four portions. To me, the veg is ok when chopped for up to two days, the bulgar wheat for four, which is why I do it that way. But follow your nose and your own standards when it comes to how long you think food lasts for!

150g bulgar wheat

Stock cube/powder

Four tomatoes

Half a cucumber

Half an onion diced very finely, or four spring onions, or a large bunch of chives

Juice and zest of a lemon

Tsp mustard

20 or so black olives, pitted and halved

100g of cheese - feta, goats, or halloumi you cook while the wheat is boiling are all lovely (I know this quantity might sound mean, but actually, it's plenty)

Cook the bulgar wheat as per packet instructions, only substituting water with stock made up with the cube or powder.

Cool it down as quickly as you can - I find spooning it out in thin layers in the flattish Tupperware I use for packed lunches helps this.

While it's cooling, dice your veg and divide them, the olives and the lemon zest evenly between the four containers. 

Finely dice or crumble your cheese, and split it evenly between the containers.

In a jam jar or similar, combine lemon juice and mustard. Put the lid on and shake, or mix in a more sedate fashion with a spoon.

Split this between the containers, and use a fork to mix up the ingredients and fluff up the bulgar wheat. 

I keep mine in the fridge at home, and on my desk once I get to work, and have never yet given myself food poisoning!

Soup of the week: spicey red lentil with cumin and tomato

This recipe has stood me in good stead for at least three years now, and it's probably the single recipe I've pressed on people most. There have been winters when we've had it pretty much every other week because all other inspiration has departed. Now, I try to have it less often, because that way I remember how truly delicious it is and appreciate how incredibly easy and cheap it is, without getting bored with it.

But we spent last weekend at a wedding, and I have to say by the time we got back on Sunday afternoon, exhausted, hungover and smiley, I was pretty proud of myself for heading towards the kitchen at all, even if it was just to heat up a supermarket faux takeaway, knock up another batch of blondies rather than trying something new, and to make the easiest soup I know.

The thing that's galling about this recipe, though, is that I've never managed to improve on it. I must have cooked it twenty times, but I've never found an adjustment that improves on the original. Changing the spicing slightly? Meh. Making it thicker, or thinner? Not right.

The only thing I've learnt is that it tastes better using a stock other than marigold bouillon powder. It's fine with it (and nine times out of ten that's what I have in the cupboard), but with chicken stock, real or cubed, or even another veg stock cube or powder that doesn't reek quite so much of celery, it's a bit nicer.

So here are the ingredients:

Here is a link to a Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall  recipe so good I can't improve it (I do tend to ignore the yoghurty bit though - life is short).

And here is the finished result, doubled up so it serves eight as ever.

Oh, and did I mention that, made with the right stock, not only is it veggie but it's also vegan? Man is a genius. That is all.

Soup of the week: cauliflower, smoked cheese and paprika

This week's soup comes from dashing out in my lunch-hour to pick up origami paper (yes, it was an urgent lunchtime dash, I'll explain all another time).

My office is in the West End of Edinburgh. It's surrounding by dinky sandwich shops, chi chi clothes shops for people paid rather a lot more than me, and the sort of places you can get origami paper at the last minute. So as I made my dash, I passed a number of chalk boards advertising various soups of the day. One of them said smoked cheese and cauliflower. I don't remember which shop it was, and I didn't nip in to pick some up - I'd already had a portion of butter bean, thyme and chilli oil soup - but the idea stayed in my head.

So when it came to making this week's vat of soup on Sunday, I decided to give it a go. And the result was great - I dipped a teaspoon in to taste it when it was done, and kept going back for more.

Ingredients (makes 8 portions)

 

Two cauliflowers

Two or three sticks of celery

Two onions
Two or three potatoes (afterthought - not pictured)
1.5 l or 3 pints veg stock (for a thick soup, add an extra half litre/pint for something thinner)
Two teaspoons smoked paprika (sweet)
150-200g smoked cheese (I used applewood smoked chedder)

Dice onions, celery and soften in a little oil.
Chop cauliflower into florets, finely chop stem, and add. Peel and dice potatoes, and add.
Add stock, paprika and bring to boil. Leave bubbling away for 20 minutes.

When soft, add grated cheese and blend using a stick blender.

Yes, more soup.

Mmm.

Ok, ok... it does taste a lot better than it looks

Anyone who's stuck with me through various interruptions will have gathered one thing: I cook a lot of soup. It's really all about practicality - there isn't really a nicer, easier way to have a warm, healthy, cheap and delicious lunch at work, especially in the Edinburgh winters and the deceptively cold Edinburgh springs.

Now we've given up on the veg box, though, I'm not faced with a once-a-fortnight recipe challenge involving a pile of unappetising, knobbly-looking veg and a stock cube. This means I can have more variety - look, no beetroot! - but also means I've been running out of ideas.

So when I read this recipe for Black Bean soup in Saturday's Guardian I had to give it a go. It's a Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall recipe, with tomatoes, beans, chilli and spices. I doubled up the quantities and there was enough for eight medium portions. I didn't bother blending any of it - he said to blend just half, but life's just too short for blending that can't be done easily with a stick blender in the cooking pot. I was out of ground coriander so substituted garam masala. I'm adding a dollop of sour cream and a couple of coriander leaves to each in the morning before taking it to work.

It's absolutely delicious. I was worried it would be too hot, but actually it just has the smallest kick - I might throw an extra chilli in next time. But it's both rich and fresh tasting. I can't wait to finish it all up.

Yet more soup

I've realised that almost all the recipes I've posted so far have been for soup.

This will end soon. But not quite yet.

May I bring you a recipe for the best coloured soup in the world?

This, like many of my soups, has sprung from necessity. Every fortnight, I separate the veg box (yes, I know, bloody Guardian-reading smug middle class nonsense. Guilty as charged) into what will be used in our every day dinners, and what just won't. The alien lifeforms below? Just won't.

And recently, the just-won't pile consisted of not one but TWO celeriac alongside several beetroot. Necessity being the mother of invention, I turned them into the following soup. Just look at that colour - and it even tasted good.

Bright pink and surprisingly yummy soup
 (This being a made up on the spot recipe, the quantities are imprecise. Taste as you go along and see what you think)
Two small or one big celeriac
Three medium beetroot
Small tub sour cream or creme fraiche (or half of each if, like me, that's what you've got hanging round your fridge)
Stock to cover (cubes are fine - I used beef, but veg or chicken will be fine)
Juice of one lemon
Tsp ground ginger
A slosh of red wine vinegar
Serves eight

1. Attempt to scrub your celeriac. Chop off the bits that won't come clean, peel and cut into large dice.
2. Peel and chop beetroot. Don't answer the front door until you've washed your hands or you'll be arrested for murder.
3. Bung in a massive pot and cover with stock/boiling water and roughly the right number of stock cubes. Boil until soft - about 15 minutes.
4. Puree with a stick blender.Check texture - if it's so thick it resembles a bright pink building material, add more water and blend more.
5. Lob in cream, ginger and lemon juice. Puree again to mix. 
6. Taste. I'm deeply suspicious of sweet tasting main courses, so I tend to lob in a tablespoon or two of red wine vinegar to sharpen it up. If you like it as it is, leave it.
7. Divide up into lots of containers - we had enough for 8. Freeze or keep in fridge, depending on when required.
8. Reheat in the microwave at work and enjoy, admiring the colour.

 (That picture is the only picture in this post where I've messed around with the colours, as it was taken on my phone. The more unnatural looking pink in the first picture? That's the colour the soup really is).