dulcis in fundo

Ever since before we bought a house and moved into it, one of my "not exactly requirements but sort of on the back of my mind" was to have a big windowsill where I could put herb pots to grow. You see the previous house had absolutely none of that, the kitchen window (being the most appropriate one) was very low, reaching behind the cupboards (which means it pretty much took a body-builder to open it!) and had no sill, and in the other rooms the windowsills (if any) were 4cm wide. Not even enough space for one of those tiny cactus pots...

So finally, when we bought our house, and although that was not a deal-breaker, I was happy to notice a VERY big and wide windowsill in the kitchen, tiled as well (extra useful if you spill water over the plants and the wall, like I do!) and I set about finally buying and planting my herbs. I had a sad-looking deadling of a basil, which when taken out of his miniscule pot grew to extremes, and also some rosemary, thyme and mint joined him soon after. And I got them pretty red pots too, as I wanted a black, white and red theme for the new kitchen.

I, of course, wanted the herbs more for eating, rather than decoration, so I thought I would soon deplete them, but they have been growing so fast and well that I keep having to dig out recipes that require lots of them to use them up, as I hate cutting off bits and throwing them away just to keep them healthy.

Being Greek I love basil, and the way it makes a whole room smell when you "rub its head" affectionately (yes, you'll see most people, grannies and children alike, in Greece "caressing" basil when they pass by it to release the scent and enjoy it!) and lemons are also so deeply ingrained in my culture that if something's edible, you'll find a Greek squeezing lemon juice on top of it, from bread to meat/fish/vegetables, to olive oil (to make a dressing), to fried potatoes, absolutely anything.

This pasta caters to two needs, firstly my basil's "coiffure" and secondly my love for lemony things. Since the other half is not that keen on lemon, while he's away for a long trip to the US between jobs I took advantage and made this one-pot wonder quite a few times, it's so simple and quick, and even vegetarian (knowing me, that's shocking!). Try it, with some ground Belper Knolle on top (a very nice parmesan-ish kind of Swiss cheese wrapped in a layer of pepper, I discovered it one day in a Swiss cheese stall in the Borough Market), or even some za'atar sprinkled in the sauce, and you will not be disappointed. Plus you might have to get a basil plant and slaughter it frequently, to satisfy your need for more of this pasta!

Boil the linguine until al dente. Drain but keep a couple of spoonfuls of the water in the pot, and return the pasta to it. Pour in the cream, lemon zest and juice, parmesan, za'atar and basil, and mix well on gentle heat until the cheese is melted.

Put in a bowl or plate, grate some Belper Knolle on top and enjoy!

Ah... something healthy finally. It's been a couple of months since I've been feeling like I've been eating quite badly, and a recent "your body fat percentage has increased by 5% in the last two years" in my health check report didn’t help in appeasing the evil spirits in my head, so I decided to stop my usual easy-access morning cereal (mainly chocolate based ones, I hate cereal so I have to make it somehow more appealing, although with the things you read on the packs, even the healthiest-looking ones have tons of sugar and salt in them) and start making my own again.

When I first arrived in London back in 2006, I remember I was making every couple of weeks my favourite muesli (I wrongly called it that, as I realise now it's baked, so the right name is granola!) but I hadn't made any in years, and it's something that I really used to love, it's healthy, has no sugar or salt, and kept me going for quite a while in the mornings.

Lately I've been feeling quite heavy and slow, it's not just food-related, but also the nasty weather (with a break of 2 weeks of sun) we've been having, which makes you want to curl up next to the radiator, and eat lots of crappy things, and the fact that my country, Greece, is getting slowly destroyed to the last bit. Depressing news always abounded about it, but now they're everywhere I look, in every newspaper cover when I go to the office kitchen to have my lunch, in every internet news site, and even in all my friends' facebook walls... So it's not that difficult to get down with all of that, and the potential doom and gloom of not having a summer at all for the next 3 months...

To give myself a boost, I decided to buy some ingredients and start making this granola again, at least this way I would feel a bit less guilty about eating rubbish for breakfast, and maybe it would help lift my spirits a bit as well. I always use Greek honey, firstly to try and support my country (we export so little...), and secondly because I love its more intense, almost treacly taste. In Greece you can get thyme honey, which is even better, if you manage to spot some in a deli in the UK, or if you travel to Greece, buy some and you'll remember me. Thyme honey aside, this granola is very simple, quick to make, and keeps very well in a sealed jar/box/tupperware – that is if you don't devour it in the first few days (and need to make more!)

Mixed nut, dried fruit, coconut and chocolate granola

Source: Inspired by a Rowse honey recipe

Serves 2

Line a big deep tray with greaseproof paper (I use a turkey baking tin). Mix all the ingredients together, apart from the dried fruit and chocolate, and place in the tray.

Bake in a preheated oven at 160°C for 20-25 minutes until golden, stirring every 5-10 minutes to make sure nothing burns and the honey doesn't all get stuck in one place.

Take out of the oven and leave to cool completely. Add the mixed dried fruit and chocolate drops, mix again, and place in a jar or plastic container with a tight lid. This will keep for about a month, in room temperature. 

Ah bread... Really, if there is one thing that I miss in this country, it's probably good bread. Something that is intrinsically simple and can be found in every corner in other countries (France, Italy, Spain, Greece...) here is a "gourmet" item, only to be found in posh neighbourhood delicatessens, artisanal bakeries in just a few obscure areas of the capital, and, best-case-scenario, some food markets. All of the above of course sell bread at a cost that would make any French/Italian/Spanish/Greek person laugh and quickly run away... £5 for a focaccia? £4.50 for a ciabatta? £4 for a baguette? Come on, it's just flour, water and yeast, of which 3 ingredients one comes for free through the tap!

Facing this frustration of spongy/squishy/bouncy/never-hardening madness, or otherwise called "supermarket Chorleywood process rubbish bread", all these years I had tried many times to make bread at home, with not so great results. I know it's easy, and I know it's simple, but the manual labour of kneading quite a few times, plus all the waiting for it to rise annoyed me, and the end result was nothing like the 1 Euro loaf you can get in any corner bakery in Greece. Plus if you think of it logically, how much money do you charge for your time? If you're getting paid £6 an hour in your normal job, and you take 3 hours to make bread, that means your loaf costs an overabundant £24, which makes it actually cheaper and easier for you to take the train to E5 bakehouse and get some great loaves from there!

Hence, the breadmaker comes into the picture! I had never been sure about these things, but when a friend told me that it was great waking up to the smell of freshly-baked bread, I thought I'd go for one. I slowly brainwashed the other half (also a REAL bread lover) over some time, so I finally got one as a nameday present last year! I got the one that was rated as the best at the time (and probably was the most expensive one as well), and I have to say that I love how it makes life easier. Sort of. There are two aspects of it, at least that I have tried, and I'll tell you the results. First, you can make bread the VERY easy way, which is throw all the ingredients in the machine, programme it, and then it does everything on its own, and you wake up in the morning with the aforementioned nice smell. The bread made this way is better definitely than the supermarket ones, but due to the breadmaker bin shape it always will be a squareish loaf, with soft crust. That's ok for sandwiches that are going to be toasted, but if you're looking for something different and crusty, there's the other option.

Dough. Same as before, you throw everything in, machine does everything, but DOES NOT BAKE. So it takes less time, and when done you can shape the dough yourself, let it rise once in a warmish place (I use the oven at 40°C as in this country of constant winter no place in my house is ever warmish enough!), knead a bit, shape, let rise again and then bake. Yes, it's still gonna take up some time off your life, but the main "getting sticky and messy, and kneading 15 minutes till you think a personal trainer would be giving you the puppy-treatment in comparison" thing is gone!

I have up to now made extremely successful sweet breads of various provenances (Greek tsoureki, Mexican Pan de muerto, English hot cross buns, Italian panettone, Mexican Rosca de Reyes) as well as this nice focaccia. It's never going to be the focaccia you will buy from an Italian bakery, but it's a pretty good substitute, and the best solution I've managed to find in order to not have to change 2 buses and 3 tubes from where I live (or just 1 train + 1 airplane!) to get a decent one...

Put all the dough ingredients in the order they are mentioned in the breadmaker bin and choose the standard dough programme (mine takes about 45 minutes). 

Take out the dough and knead for a bit. Put in a large bowl and cover with a clean towel, then place in an oven at 40°C for an hour (or until doubled). 

Take out, roll and pat the dough into a 30cm x 25cm rectangle on a greased baking tray. Make indentations over the dough with your finger, and allow to prove in the 40°C oven for another 30-40 minutes, until doubled.

Drizzle with olive oil and sprinkle with rosemary and sea salt. Bake in a preheated oven at 210°C for 10 minutes, then check and return to the oven for a couple more minutes if not ready and golden.

We all have things we've liked eating since we were kids (pizza, French fries, souvlaki for me, in about that order of preference), and then there are some things we've never eaten in our lives and suddenly we discover and they become all-time favourites that we cook again and again. For me, these kind of things were mainly added to my diet when I left Greece and came to the hub of international cuisine called Britain (yes, I know most people would snigger at that, but seriously, it's way more advanced than my poor little homeland, and you CAN find pretty much everything you want either in specialised shops or online for any cuisine in the world!). One of the things I had never had in Greece was Thai food, which is now probably my top favourite cuisine, up there with Italian (find me 1 person in the world who doesn't like Italian, and I'll probably... spit on them, but trust me, that person doesn't exist!), and although you can find quite good restaurants in Britain, you can also now increasingly find Thai ingredients everywhere, from fish sauce to curry pastes, and from kaffir lime leaves to galangal.

I don't try to recreate Thai food at home much. We have a couple of good Thai favourites that we usually eat when we go out to Thai restaurants, and those are far too difficult to recreate (or rather look easy but fail miserably every time I've tried) but one of our latest favourites to make at home, especially when looking for something quick and light, and the fridge is empty, are these Thai crabcakes that I first spotted James Martin making in Saturday Kitchen (possibly one of my rare Saturday morning indulgences, if I manage to wake up early enough that is...).

If you've got some canned crabmeat, a potato or two and some stale bread and spices, that's about it, and they are amazingly lovely (I know potato is not very Thai in any way, but that's why I'm not calling them Thai!) and way way waaaaaaaaay better than any fishcakes or crabcakes or any other -cakes I've had in a Thai restaurant anywhere in the world (including Thailand!) So good, that we actually made them for our New Year Eve's dinner, while watching the fireworks falling over the London Eye on TV (chickenpox time, remember?)

Peel the potato and chop it into small cubes. Place in a pot of cold water, with a pinch of salt, and boil until the cubes are tender and a knife easily goes through them (around 15-20 minutes). While the potatoes are boiling, flake the crabmeat, making sure there is no pieces of shell.

Drain, return to the pan, and mash as well as you can with a potato masher. Add the butter, double cream, curry, chilli and garlic powder, and mix well. Season to taste with salt and pepper.

Mix in the crabmeat until fully incorporated, then shape into 4 balls, and flatten slightly. In a small plate spread the breadcrumbs and roll the crabcakes until covered on all sides.

Heat the oil in a frying pan and add the crabcakes, cooking them until they are golden on both sides (5 minutes each side). Serve with sweet chilli sauce and some salad leaves.

Hmmm... biscotti... The year before last we went to Italy at Christmas-time and spent a few days with a lovely friend and her family, who gave us the best Christmas we've had in our lives... It was so memorable and warm that everything about it wakes up cuddly feelings in me still, and in-between the madness of food food food that we had, I remember something I had never tried before, "ricciarelli", crunchy outside and soft inside, which are some unique cookies from Siena, traditionally eaten at Christmas time with a glass of Vin Santo.

I love Vin Santo. Have I ever said how much I love Vin Santo? I brought a bottle back with me when I went to Santorini a few years ago (they make a really nice "version" there!) and I have been treasuring it to the point that I was giving severe killing looks to my partner's father when he saw it and had a few glassfuls at some point... There's still some left, and I use it very sparingly, as I'm not sure I can find as good a bottle anytime soon, but thinking of Vin Santo and that Christmas, another thing came up in my memories. Biscotti! I also love biscotti, they are amazing on their own, but even better with a cup of coffee to dip in, made a tiny bit softer to bite and also absorbing all the coffee flavours like a sponge...

We make some similar cookies in Greece (paximadia), which I absolutely love and they follow the same kind of double-baking method, only they are usually flavoured with aniseed. I had never made biscotti before, but neither do I like the hard as cement versions you can find in British shops (I remember even some from Konditor & Cook were inedible without serious coffee/tea dippage), so I thought I would try to make some, to see if a. they would turn out genuine and remind me or the ones in Roma, and b. they would be slightly less tooth-breaking than the shop-bought ones you can find here.

They came out quite good, not as tooth-breaking (phew...) and were praised all around. I have to say I'm quite happy with my first attempt, and I'll be trying them again in the future, maybe with some different flavour combinations (pistachio anyone?) A little caffettino makes this a match made in heaven!


Coffee, hazelnut, walnut and raisin biscotti
Source: Mixture of different recipes I found online

Makes around 40

• 210g plain flour, sifted
• ½ tsp baking powder
• ½ tsp instant coffee powder
• 150g caster sugar
• A pinch of salt
• 60g butter
• 2 eggs
• ½ tsp vanilla extract
• 55g hazelnuts
• 55g walnuts
• 30g raisins

Preheat the oven to 180°C. Blend the flour, baking powder, coffee, sugar and the pinch of salt in a food processor for a few seconds, then add the butter and mix until it all looks like breadcrumbs. Add the eggs and vanilla extract and blend again until it becomes a smooth dough.

Knead the dough on a floured countertop, incorporating the hazelnuts, walnuts and raisins. Divide into two parts and, using lightly floured hands, shape each into a log of about 20 centimetres long. Place the logs on a lined baking tray, pressing the top down to make it a bit more flat.

Bake for 35 minutes. Cool for about 20 minutes, and reduce the oven temperature to 170°C. Cut the logs into one-centimetre slices, place them sideways on the tray and bake for 30 minutes (turning once halfway during the cooking time). Cool, and store in an airtight container, they will last for about 2-3 weeks.

I never make new year's resolutions. They're kind of stupid, and I feel that they can just throw you into a deep depression if year after year you count how many you "failed at". But, every new year I see things that I like, like people deciding to take one new photo for every day of the year, or changing things in their life that they always wanted to do, or even just deciding it's a darn good time to start using their food leftovers more efficiently! So, inspired by them all, I thought that this year I would make an extra effort to cook new things I've never cooked before as frequently as I can (see, if I said every day, that would be setting me up already for failure... don't we all need to have an disgustingly oily takeaway pizza every now and then, and go out to eat a few times too?) and for the past few days I've managed to stick to it.

Luckily I'm not a cookbook hoarder, as I rarely find that I like (or want to make) more than 10% of the recipes in any cookbook, and if it's just 10% it's more worth it borrowing the book from the library and getting some free photocopies made in the office than buying the whole book (let alone that we already have 6 bookcases and no more space in the house). However, I do hoard recipes from all kinds of places, from free supermarket magazines, to things I saw online in blogs or newsletters and printed out to keep for future use, and also from the one cooking magazine that I have a (free, got it with Tesco clubcard points) subscription to...

Coming to that last one, although I have loads of recipes in a box, I find myself lately tending to make more and more frequently recipes from past issues of my delicious magazines (lovingly ripped off from the mag, before it takes its lonely road to recycling, and maybe one day becomes again a magazine... it's a funny thought that one recipe could be recycled and appear as another in a future magazine... ah, I'm such a hopeless recycling-obsessed romantic...). I find that they are usually very accurate (which can be the curse of blogs and other more unofficially-sourced recipes, which omit ingredients, forget to describe what you do with them in the process, and then you realise that your bread/stew/pie ended up as a stone/sock water/something out of Alien lying in the floor of the oven...

Since I like pork, cider and sage, I decided to try this one, and it turned out very nice, without any adjustments, and it's quite easy too... And you do get to drink the rest of the cider, which I guess is an extra bonus!

Season the steaks on both sides with salt and pepper. Melt the butter and olive oil over a high heat in a frying pan large enough to hold the steaks and apple slices. When the butter starts foaming, add the steaks and cook 2-3 minutes on each side until browned. Turn over again, add the apples and cook for 5 minutes, until the apples are softened and browned and the steaks cooked.

Pour the cider, mix in the crème fraîche and sage and let it all bubble for a few minutes, until the sauce is a bit thickened. Serve with roast potatoes (recipe here).

Ah, ah... Not only were my last two posts all full of whining (mostly about 2011 misfortunes), but the unluck continues until the end of the year... I'm so happy I'll be rid of it by tomorrow, and hopefully 2012 will be a little wee bit more easygoing... So, what happened now? Well, first Santa (I mistyped Satan, I'm wondering about THAT kind of Freudian slip...) brought my 35-year-old boyfriend chickenpox (YES, chickenpox of all things, for the "little" child!), which meant that all plans for New Year's Eve are cancelled, as he has to be in quarantine so he won't give it to the rest of the world. Luckily I had already had it when I was small, so I won't get it, but I'm not going to leave him in house isolation and go out to have fun on my own... A quiet night it is then. I had again many plans for this bank holiday weekend, and I had booked since months a restaurant I wanted to go to for my Birthday dinner (on Tue, which is also the first day back to work, and therefore a miserable day by definition), but all that will have to wait... I have to say I am now getting quite fed up of cancelling things, especially the ones with no refunds. But as I said, I have high hopes for 2012, and it's almost here!

To continue the misfortune story, since the little chickenpox-ridden one was looking like a sad (Dalmatian) puppy, I decided to make this tart that I had in a list of "cool new things to make during the holidays" since a while, and it was indeed really good and managed to lift both of our spirits a tiny bit. After I made it and we ate it, I went to the kitchen to put the plates in the dishwasher, and when I turned on the light it went "poof!", and the kitchen, bathroom and guestroom lights went out... Thinking it must be the fuse, I went with a flashlight (the joys of it being dark already after lunchtime...) and switched all the fuses between themselves, but no result. At the same time, the oven is also not working, but luckily the hob, the lights under the kitchen cupboards, the sockets and subsequently the fridge still have power, so at least we won't starve to death/have takeaway for New Year's Eve or lose all the nice food we have piled up in there. What a better way to start the year than peeing with a candle...

And when I thought, what more can happen, now it's almost 2012, I opened my nut drawer to get some cashew nuts and found that a mouse had taken affectionate bites off pretty much half the stuff in there, and it must have been quite stupid too, as it had taken bites of all the plastic wrappings, but not of the nuts themselves. Argggggggggh... All these nuts are now in the rubbish, fantastic. The ones that survived (the unopened ones and some that were not to its liking it seems) are now safely inside a tupperware, but I really hate the idea that there might be a mouse lurking around somewhere behind the cupboards...

Anyway, enough now, tomorrow is a new day, a new year and hopefully some new good karma! Happy New Year everyone!

Remember what I was saying in my previous post? 2011 has definitely not been a good year, and from what I gather from grumbling friends, not just for me... Thinking that the end of the year couldn't bring any more disasters, we had arranged for my mom and aunt to come and stay with us for the holidays (beautiful visions of endless food, shopping together, visiting Christmas markets and favourite exhibitions + throw a show or two in the mix, arise in my imagination...), however a last-minute old relative being hospitalised in critical condition meant that the trip had to be cancelled, one day before they were meant to arrive.

Hence, depression ensues = time to make sweets descends upon me. I am a quite strong proponent of the Como agua para chocolate theory (if you're sad, you'll make sad food, if you're happy your food will taste amazing and bring happiness to those who eat it), so I'd rather just cheer up and make sweets, than have my feelings ruin a good bowl of dough. And since I've never made mince pies before in my life, and I was planning to anyway (I had found a "alternative" inspiring recipe in delicious magazine and had already made the mincemeat a month ago in anticipation), I quickly set to make these. Having never tried it, I was a bit sceptical, but they were a resounding success, and people told me that they were even the best ones they've had (my answer was "it must be the alcohol"). Since they are not covered with the typical pastry on top, but with a frangipane-like almond mix, I decided I shall call them "frangiminci pies"!

I guess everything can be looked at optimistically. I've had a bloody cold of some sort or other since the 19^th of November, which kind of goes away only to "dress up" as something else and come back with a vengeance, culminating in a recent fever, and a few days spent working from home. Dangerous thing this working from home. While normally you wouldn't go to the office and work with a fever, being at home kind of gives you the idea that "oh, well, yeah, maybe, it's just a little bit of work", which eventually ends up in hours spent sitting in front of the PC. However, if my mom and aunt HAD come, things could potentially be worse, I could have given them the cold, we could have all be sniffling during Xmas, plus I wouldn't have stayed to work from home, and made these mince pies. On a day that really no work from home could be done. Because the Internet and all systems in my company were down. Just for the irony of the matter, may I add that we are an "online" company. Giggles ensue + mince pies are made during working hours = that's the spirit of Christmas!

Preheat the oven to 200°C. Core the apples and bake them in a lidded dish for 1 hour. They are ready when they are soft and the peel has sort of exploded around them. Scoop out the flesh of the apples and place in a big bowl to cool. When in room temperature, add the lemon zest and juice, and then the rest of the ingredients, mixing well with each addition. Cover the bowl with clingfilm and leave it to rest in a cool place, stirring every few hours. It can be used on the same day, but ideally you should allow it to "develop" over a month, so after a couple of days of stirring move it into sterilized jars and seal, making sure there are as few air bubbles as possible. I allowed it to rest for 25 days, and it was yummy.

To make the pastry put in a food processor the flour, sugar, salt, butter and pulse until the mix resembles breadcrumbs. With the processor running, slowly add the eggs until a dough is just formed. Take the dough out, knead it a bit, wrap it with cling film and cool in the fridge.

To make the frangipane topping, beat the butter in a food processor or mixer until soft. With the processor/mixer running, slowly add the sugar, almonds, eggs and rum, until well incorporated. Move to a bowl and chill for at least 15 minutes.

Butter the holes of a muffin tray (I had a 12-hole tin, which I used 3 times to make all the pies). Roll out one third of the pastry on a well floured counter, until it is 3mm thick. With a fluted cookie cutter cut out 8cm rounds, and push them lightly into the muffin tin holes. Chill the whole muffin tray for 15 minutes, before filling with a big spoonful of mincemeat, and topping with a heaped teaspoonful of frangipane. Preheat the oven to 180°C, sprinkle the mince pies with the flaked almonds and bake for 20-25 minutes, until nicely browned.

Remove from the muffin tray while still hot and cool on a rack. I prefer my mince pies warm, so when you want to eat them put in an oven preheated to 160°C for 10 minutes, and then dust with icing sugar.

I know, I know. It's been a long time, no post. Oral spank spank. But I haven't given up, oh ye who worry and pester me! It's just that...well...life sometimes takes up time. Like, ALL OF IT. In the last few months a few hundred thousand distracting things happened, which took me away from blogging and pretty much from humanity, a few among which are:

So, now that things have sort of (just sort of) quietened down a bit, it's time to quickly dish out some Greek sweets for Christmas, just in case I tempt any late-Xmas-sweet-makers with these inspired, tree-shaped beauties!

I usually make these traditional sweets with my mom's recipe (passed down through generations) but this time I wanted to try something a bit more alternative, so I looked around and got inspired by Stelios Parliaros, who adds pistachios and rum to the mix, a sacrilege that probably would be met with some great ass-whooping by my elderly female relatives, but which surprisingly worked quite well. Since traditionally kourampiedes are sprinkled with orange blossom water, I thought of using Cointreau instead of rum, and I also mixed and smashed pistachios and almonds together which in the original recipe are left separated (some kourampiedes with one, some with the other), but if you can have the best of both worlds why not mix and match?

Have a great Christmas, and I hope 2012 brings a bit less panic, sorrow, hecticness and unexpected chaos in all our lives!

Preheat the oven to 180°C, place the almonds in a tray and roast for 6 minutes then add the pistachios and roast all the nuts for a further 6-7 minutes. When cooled, chop or smash into small pieces (I used a plastic bag and a rolling pin, but be careful, don’t turn them into dust, you need to have some bite there!)

Mix the butter with the 110g of icing sugar in a big food processor or mixer until light and fluffy. Add one by one the flour, baking powder, vanilla extract and Cointreau and mix well until all the ingredients are evenly incorporated.

Stir in the chopped nuts, and shape into rounds, or cut out different shapes with Christmassy cookie cutters. Place on a tray lined with baking parchment, making sure there is a 6-7 cm distance between them, as they tend to spread, and bake for 30 minutes (or until browned).

Take out of the oven, and before they have a chance to cool, turn them upside down and sprinkle with icing sugar. Immediately turn them the right way up, sprinkle with sugar again, and rest until cool. After they have cooled down, you can move them to a serving plate and sprinkle them with the rest of the sugar, for that genuine Greek Christmas overdose!

This weekend was the first really summery one we've had since last year, and luckily a couple of friends of ours, who had recently bought their first house, invited us for a BBQ on Saturday. The weather was beautiful, just BBQ-perfect, and the food was in infinite supply (just the way I like it!) and very tastily marinaded by the man of the house. But, as every time that there's good weather, what I was craving most for was some ice cream. So Sunday came, same temperature, and the time was ripe for whipping out the ice cream machine (don't think for a second that I haven't made ice cream at home since last summer, I'm an all-winter-ice-cream scoffing freak, but somehow it tastes even better when it's hot outside!) and making something new.

Ever since I went to Rome for the first time in 2003, I have been dreaming of the nutella ice cream I had in gelaterias everywhere. It was my favourite flavour from the ones I tried (and trust me, I tried many!) and for some reason on follow-up visits to Rome in later years the nutella ice cream I so loved was gone. What I wanted was a stracciatela-like vanilla ice cream with little hard nutella swirls you could bite into, and which was heavenly, but it seems it had either gone out of fashion in Rome, or it had been replaced by an "all-nutella" chocolatey-hazelnutty ice cream, which although very nice, was too sweet and chocolatey for me. If presented with the choice of only vanilla or only chocolate ice cream, I'm pretty sure 70-90% of the population would go for only chocolate, but I would go for vanilla, as I find too much chocolate "too much". So stracciatela is one of my favourite gelato flavours of all time, as it combines both vanilla and chocolate in just the right proportions.

Inspired by this, and not having tried to make stracciatela at home, I tried to invent a stracciatelonutella version, using a trusted recipe for vanilla ice cream and adding warmed up nutella in swirls before the ice cream was fully set in the freezer. It came out heavenly, and brought back all those memories of Roman Spring in 2003...

However, since the other half is not a big fan of ice cream (yes I know, does that species exist in nature, especially in its male version?), I had to make something to satisfy his puppy-dog look of "and I'm not getting any dessert? Bouhou!", that would go with the nutella ice cream. I've made these brownies dozens of times before, they always come out fantastic and the extra bonus that they are flourless makes them suitable for people who are gluten intolerant, plus you can sort of pretend they're healthier (which the other half does) and feel a bit less guilty (as if the chocolate, butter and almonds are not enough to make you rounder!). Instead of baking them in a tray, I got inspired by Tartelette and baked them in individual tart tins, which made them perfect for topping with generous ice cream scoops. Getting carried away, I added 3 scoops on mine one night, and then I had to be removed by a crane from the sofa and gently placed on my bed, to avoid bursting. I have to say, that's never to be done again...I'm sure there's a moral somewhere there about too much of a good thing... but I haven't heard of it yet...

Flourless chocolate brownies with nutella swirl ice cream
Source: Adapted from Allegra McEvedy and Gourmet Worrier

Makes 8 brownies and 800ml ice cream

For the brownies

• 175g 70% dark chocolate, chopped
• 90g butter
• 2 ½ tbsp strong coffee
• 2 eggs
• 220g granulated sugar
• ½ tsp vanilla extract
• 125g ground almonds
• ½ tsp baking powder

For the ice cream

• 2 cups full fat milk
• 1 cup double cream
• 1 cup single cream
• 8 tbsp sugar
• 1 tbsp vanilla extract with seeds (or vanilla seeds from 1 pod), I used this one
• 2 rounded tbsp nutella

A few weeks ago, as I mentioned in a previous post, my partner was in Athens for business, and I was left alone in London craving souvlaki, Greek pizza and everything else that he was posting in facebook as a status update with the words "I am eating Greek X now...yuuummm". However, to make it up to me (all those hours of suffering looking at facebook photos with my friends...grrr...) he was contracted to carry back a suitcaseful of Greek treats, plus the greatest (and heaviest) of them all, my mom's ancient pasta maker.

This little gem, a Marcato Ampia, was bought sometime in the 1980s by my mom who thought it would be a trendy item of kitchenalia (things imported from Italy were a big deal at the time in the Greek culinary gadget world!), plus it might at some point help her in making filo. Yes, filo. Now, anyone who knows what filo is can guess that the experiment failed miserably, and the pasta maker (clue, the suggested use is "in the NAME" μαμά!) stayed stacked in a cupboard, miserably gathering dust over the years, as my mom proclaimed "this metal thing is rubbish, all dough stick and do not clean!" (forgive the stereotypical Greek "translation"). After having gone through dozens of cookbooks, online recipes, and Italian friends' stories, I realised that making your own fresh pasta is not a scary task, and remembered the poor old Marcato, and resuscitated it finally!

My partner might have grumbled about carrying all that weight (mom had persuaded me it weighed only 1 kilo - more like 4 that is...), but in the long term he has come to terms with the "inconvenience", as the pasta this machine makes is AMAZING! And since I paid nothing for an "antique" item, I can't even complain about the investment. Plus there's something essentially romantic about kitchen bits and pieces being passed down from generation to generation (even the unused ones!), that makes me a bit sentimental.

Anyways, so pasta machine in hand (or rather on counter - it's too heavy to carry around purposelessly) I was ready for experimentation. And what would be the first recipe? Lasagne, tagliatelle, linguine? Nah, I need more challenging stuff, with filling! Quick search in my head, quick search on the internet, and definitely butternut squash overpowered all other options. I absolutely love ravioli di zucca al burro e salvia (pumpkin and sage ravioli) and as I had some butternut squash and pine nuts, I went for a classic recipe by Rick Stein, changing a few things along the way, and getting a few invaluable tips from Italian friends.

The ravioli turned out amazing, the filling was the best one I've had (up to now my favourite shop-bought ones were the award-winning Tesco Finest Pumpkin Ravioli) and definitely was beyond compare with even the Tesco ones! If you don't have a pasta machine it's still possible to make homemade pasta, but much more effortful, and since you can buy one not too expensively, it's highly recommended. You know what goes in your pasta, it can be as fresh as your eggs, and you will choose your filling, amount of salt and everything else (I actually didn't need to put any salt at all, the parmesan is enough, which is an extra bonus!)

Put the cubed butternut squash in an overproof dish, toss with the olive oil, the fennel seeds and some black pepper and roast for 30 minutes at 220°C until tender and caramelised. Cool slightly and mash with a potato masher.

Pour the flour in a bowl and make a well in the centre. Break the egg in a separate bowl, beat well and pour into the centre of the flour "well". With a fork fold in the flour gradually from the outside of the egg towards the centre, mixing well constantly until it's all incorporated, then dig in with your hands and knead until you have a smooth soft ball. If it's too sticky add a bit more flour, if it's too dry add a bit of water, but if your egg is medium sized it should all work perfectly fine. Wrap the ball of dough with cling-film and leave in the fridge to rest for at least 15 minutes.

In the meantime prepare the filling by mixing the mashed butternut squash with the rest of the ingredients in a bowl. Once the pasta has had its rest, divide it into two bits and pass each one through a pasta machine, finishing with setting No 7 (the thinnest in my pasta machine). Lay one sheet of pasta on the counter, and place small spoonfuls of the filling in regular intervals, making sure to leave some space between them for the dough to stick. Wet the dough by dipping your finger in a glass of water and rubbing "water lines" between the filling and on the edges. Cover with the second sheet of pasta, pressing down to close and stick, and then cut with a pasta cutter between the ravioli, or if you don't have one you can use a pizza wheel (that's what I did!) or a knife. Trim the ravioli if some are too big and boil for a good 6 minutes (try them to make sure they're not undercooked, it will all depend on the thickness of your pasta sheets) in well-salted water.

Melt the butter with the sage leaves in a small saucepan, drain the pasta and toss in the melted butter, topping with lots of parmesan and some black pepper.

Preheat the oven to 200°C, and put some paper cupcake cases in a 12-muffin/cupcake tin. Mix the eggs with the sugar until light and fluffy, then add the milk and oil and combine well. Gradually add the flour mixed with the baking powder, salt, lemon zest and lime zest. Spoon the mixture into the cupcakes cases and bake for 25-30 minutes.

In the meantime make the lemon icing by mixing the sugar with the lemon juice quickly with a wooden spoon. Cool in the fridge until the cupcakes are out of the oven and totally cooled. Spread the icing over the cooled cupcakes and decorate with the lavender flowers.

I know I haven't written a post in a while. A long while. The main reason is that winter has brought with it the infamous English 3 o'clock nights (where by 3 o'clock in the afternoon everything is pitch black) meaning that taking decent photos of things I cook after work (which is mainly when I cook!) has become virtually impossible. As an antidote, we generally try to stay away from this country at this dreary time, and this has resulted in quite a lot of travelling, which – while full of food as usual – does not frequent blogging allow (in Yoda mode). However, since most have been asking for it and have been waiting for it, I wanted to at least post some photos of the most beautiful and delicious things I've had in my travels over the past few months.

2010 being the year of weddings, my three trips in November and December were all in order to attend weddings of friends scattered around the globe. Having being invited to 10 weddings since May, I was at least glad to be able to attend 4. And a funeral. But that's another story...

So, on we headed to Mexico for my boyfriend's good friend's wedding in the beginning of November, and since we were there anyway we decided to stay for 2 weeks (you don't go to the other side of the world and not take advantage, you might as well make the jetlag worth its while!) and visit a couple of places I had never been to before, namely San Miguel De Allende and Guanajuato. They were both beautiful, and I definitely recommend them. San Miguel is this artists' paradise, with picturesque houses in all kinds of colours, lovely relaxing courtyards and lots of good food! And Guanajuato is a bustling student city that competes with San Miguel for the Most-multicoloured-Mexican-city Award.

To start things off though, we first stopped in Mexico City, where my boyfriend's from, and where I've been 3 times before. And when in Mexico City the musts for me are: Brunch at Las Lupitas (lovely little place in Coyoacan, top left photo), some amazing steak and chips in a basket made out of potatoes (!) in the Argentinean Cambalache, and some freshly made tortillas from the corner shop, where they just taste divine warm out of the comal, sprinkled with some salt and rolled up. Mexican heaven...

And then, to finish it off, some cajeta crêpes, and cafe de olla! This coffee is possibly my favourite in the world, no matter how much I like espresso and Greek coffee (Turkish coffee actually, the Greeks just like to call it Greek, chauvinistic remnants of the Turkish invasion of Cyprus...) this just beats them all to a whimpering submission. Flavoured with cinnamon and pilloncillo (raw cane sugar) and "cooked" in a clay pot, even thinking of the earthy smell of this coffee gives me a warm fuzzy feeling! And since we were around during the Mexican Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead), we also got to get some sugar skulls as presents, along with a variety of sweets which you can find in the ubiquitous sweet shops scattered in Mexican markets.

On next was the wedding. Of course Mexican weddings revolve around food, food and more food. You start with a tamarind margarita (with salt and chilli powder on the glass rim) at around 1, then go on to lunch, best bit of which was the shark gordita (had tried shark before but I wasn't impressed, this time it was mind-blowing!), desserts (some meringue/cream/fruit concoction that was positively cloud-esque) and then some dancing, more food, dancing, oh, let's have some Mexican sweets, dance a bit more, damn! it's already 7 at night, let's have someone bring around tortas ahogadas (oh god, that was spicy like hell, but oh so delicious I just couldn't stop having more and more despite burning to death... even thinking about it I'm drooling now!) and then on and on the feeding frenzy went!

We tried to pace ourselves, as we knew the next morning we had to have breakfast (the hotel had really cutely enveloped their butter in corn husks, making it look like mini tamales!), and then go to the newlyweds' house for post-wedding brunch. Yes, as if we hadn't been fed constantly until 1 o'clock the previous night (normally it would have been until 5 o'clock in the morning, only it was so bizarrely cold that the wedding guests ran home earlier than expected! Cold in Mexico...who would imagine!), we had to now choose between pozole and chicken flautas. Guess what. I had BOTH. I love chicken flautas, but it was the first time I tried pozole and I have to say it's not my thing. Thank God, at least there's one Mexican thing that I won't need to add to my already full belly next time I go there. Unlike tortilla soup. Oooooh, the tortilla soup. With little pieces of avocado. And chillies. And cheese. Miam miam is all I can say. Drooling just thinking about it now...

Next stop on the world trip was Athens, this time for my friend's wedding. My friend being a sweet-toothed girl we indulged not only in the prettiest wedding cake ever (served as individual mini-cake portions!) but in a selection of other little pots of pleasure, all of which of course I had to try. Initially I thought "Just a spoonful of each, so I can tell her which one was the best" and then after I saw that no one was eating the rest, I had to have them all. We don't waste food in my house, and especially cute desserts! (even after an endless wedding buffet!) After a brief stop in Rome to visit a very good friend of mine, who literally showered us in freshly-cut salami and fed us for 10 hours a day during Christmas and Boxing Day, we were off to Palermo in Sicily for the last wedding of the year. Having eaten quite a lot (as you can see by the above) during the preceding months, this was the top of the iceberg. Italians eat a lot, they eat even more in weddings, but what we didn't expect was a 10-course meal of the most amazing variety, of which we could eat a forkful each time, as we were waiting for the next and the next. The one thing that I positively devoured all of, was this sublime salad topped with the most amazing tuna carpaccio (marinated in a toasted hazelnut emulsion) I've ever tasted. I still have drooly dreams about it!

And just as you thought this madness might come to an end, here comes January, with its "most depressing week of the year", which we spent safely tucked in the sun of Singapore and Bali. Quick walk through Little India where colourful bananas were scattered everywhere, and then it was time for some famous Singaporean chilli crab in Jumbo. Burning hot, but oh so good! Even the getting messy bit was enjoyable. A few days later we were having rijsttafel in Bumbu Bali in Tanjung Benoa, and trying some of the best curried fish cooked in banana leaf in Sails in Amed.

A big handful of freshly grilled prawns on the beach (these are what I call gigantosaurus prawns!) were followed by pancakes with palm sugar (that even beats cajeta!) and some of the best food we had in Bali which was in a little café in the middle of the rice fields near Ubud, called Sari Organic. If you see "chicken with mushrooms" in a menu in Britain you definitely don't expect what you see above, and some more palm sugar adoration ensued when our banana fritters arrived with some extra yummy syrup of the palmy kind.

Ubud being kind of the touristic centre of Bali you can find some amazing food there, but we were also lucky to be staying in the area while a religious festival was taking place and the Pura Desa temple was covered in offerings consisting of the most amazingly arranged towers of... food! Apart from cakes and fruit there was also a pretty intricate "chandelier" of meat skewers and I can say my mouth stayed open for quite a while when I realised what it was, as from far away it just looked like a flower arrangement! Having gotten hungry with the cornucopia at the temple we had some sticky cashew nut chicken for dinner, followed by a modern twist to the traditional black rice pudding.

Last but not least, some of my favourite things that I tried in South East Asia were the Indonesian crackers (kind of like the Chinese prawn crackers but waaaaay better!) and SHOCK SHOCK SHOCK, pizza! There were two amazing varieties. One in Gili Air, a tiny island near Lombok, which – sans electricity but for some hotel/restaurant generators – has devised an ingenious idea. Wood-fire pizza ovens. Yes, pizza in Indonesia. And if you manage to get lucky, you get some Italians who have permanently moved there to make the most amazing prawn and mushroom pizza ever for you. Best dough I've had in life, and despite my severe scepticism about combining seafood with cheese, this was one of the most amazing pizzas I've had in the world. Including Italy. Sorry Italians, please don't kill me, did you notice I said that IT WAS AN ITALIAN who made this? Albeit in far more exotic lands. The other amazing pizza was in a Japanese place in a super-mall in Singapore. Again, despite the aforementioned scepticism, and bearing the good experience in Gili Air in mind, I was stunned by how good this prawn, bacon and wasabi mayo pizza was. Yes, wasabi. The Japanese are crazy with their culinary combinations, but that only makes me love them more. Japanese has to be one of my favourite cuisines right now. Definitely.

Ah... so that was eat [sic]. And if you didn't have enough already, I leave you with a smile on a plate...