Easter

Just a flying visit...

For a change I've not spent the day slaving over a hot stove, instead I've been wading through Easter Eggs and other various seasonal treats.

That's right, who needs to cook on Easter Sunday when we're inundated with eggs and chocolate, I've enough here to last me till... well next Easter. Actually, while I'm here, could someone explain why we celebrate with eggs, it's beyond me?

Anyway, the real reason I'm blogging - I have a confession to make. Back on Ash Wednesday I wrote that I would be giving up on chocolates, sweets and fizzy drinks for lent... well... lets just say it's not gone so well.

But I have a valid reason, it has become a tradition to eat such rubbish on a Thursday afternoon while I present some student radio... I blame Amy (she's a bad influence).

If you do feel let down, please feel free to comment below... but be kind, I have made some progress! But avoiding the good stuff (the stuff that's 'bad' for me) is much harder than this cooking malarkey. 

Tea Time

Over the last month I have served up various dishes from around the world, well mainly Europe, but then I'm nothing if not continental.

You've had tapas and soup to start, Mums spaghetti bolognese for a main and a choice between pancakes and crumble for dessert. So, what's left - tea or coffee?

When Mum said she was going to teach me to make tea I thought leaf it out, but she was serious. She compared my last cup of tea to cats pee - well that's rude and can cats make tea, maybe they could... if they had thumbs?

Anyway, it's Mum's show and I guess making tea is a valuable life skill - so here goes... head first into tea making...

Well, there isn't much I can say about the lesson... First I gathered up all my components, to save time if things got hectic (as seen on the right). Filled and boiled the kettle (with water of course)... while you're waiting for a kettle to boil... you have to entertain yourself for a while.

Traditionalists will argue that the best tea has to be made in a pot but muggins here argues that making it in the mug saves on washing up and therefore is more economical - FACT.

Anyway, once the kettle had boiled I had the arduous task of pouring the boiled water onto the tea bag in the mug. You may think this is easy but navigating boiling water into a 15 centimeter circumference is far from easy - but I managed.

But here is the really important bit, judging when to remove that teabag. Its a crucial factor in order to maximise taste, colour and overall satisfaction to the tea belly. It's difficult to know whether people like it weak, strong, or somewhere in the middle and however you make it, it wont be right.

But Mum is teaching me to make a 'good' cup of tea so I left it for a few minutes to brew.

Once Mum had given me the nod (she was milking this for all it was worth), I fished the bag out... added some milk (again this changes with taste) and served.

The lesson was in the bag.

A completely different challenge but the same outcome, I'm getting the hang of this cooking malarkey.

¡Viva España!

Look... It's me (on the left)

Today we go a little bit continental. Last summer I spent some time in Barcelona but as far as food was concerned I only had a budget that stretched to some crusty bread and a slice of cheese, with an apple for a treat. I was gutted that I missed out on the local tapas.

So, this week I'm turning up the heat on my cooking journey. Mum is taking me back to Spain (no, not literally just metaphorically speaking) to teach me to cook tapas. We're not looking to cook typical tapas like squid, chorizo or king prawns... I'm going to produce some mini meatballs.

You may be thinking that I have bitten off more than I can chew, seeing as Mum is also a tapas novice, and you'd probably be quite right because to be honest this challenge was hard ta-pass.

I'm working with ingredients which I have come to love in my previous lessons. Dicing an onion has become second nature but that doesn't mean that they don't still catch me out. It got me this time, the critter and I've sprung a leek, tears streaming down my face... I've either rubbed my eye or the smell of the onion has tickled my nose - I'm not sure which but the onion eyes have got me AGAIN but I soldier on.

Suddenly things take a nasty turn. I'm merrily chopping my way through the offending onion when disaster strikes and I attempt to slice off my finger! Oh, okay the knife slipped and tickled my finger - it didn't break the skin, there was no blood and a blue plaster was not required (although they do look quite cool - but imagine finding one in your food?)

My first accident since I have started my cooking journey and I feel lucky to have all of my digits intact. Today's first lesson comes in the form of personal survival - be careful when you're chopping, make a finger barrier against the side of the knife... it's hard to explain (I'll make a video lesson). Alternatively, in true Blue Peter fashion, ask a responsible adult to help you (Mum...)

Now, when it came to browning the onion and other ingredients I wasn't actually allowed to let them brown, I had to let them turn transparent, which was a little... confusing to say the least but I managed.

Once the fried, see-through onions had cooled it was time to make balls - along with the mince, bread crumbs and a WHAT... an egg yolk! How on earth do you get the yolk out of an egg? This must be a yolk right? My Nan once taught me that separating eggs was simple, you just move them apart like two naughty children (mind you she'd had a few sherries, so I'm not so sure she was serious).

Anyway, getting back to the cooking and egg separating was really awful. I had to crack the egg in half with a knife and let the egg white (the white bit of the egg) drip out over my fingers. At the same time I had to tip the yolk from one half of the shell to the other. It wasn't pleasant, I'm really not an egg fan.

Mum was eggspecting a disaster but she was quite shocked at how well it all went. She said it was an 'eggcellent' effort - not sure she meant this, she should really leave the yolks to me... or is that just shell-fish of me?

So it's time to get my hands dirty; I had to play with my balls... WOW now come on, I had to turn the mince mix into meatballs - I know what you were thinking and what you get up to in your kitchen is entirely up to you... but not here.

Once the meatballs were frying in the pan I turned my attention to the sauce.

But hang on a second, it suddenly strikes me that I've forgotten to add the chilli to the meatball mix. Lesson number two is expensive - make sure all your ingredients actually go into the dish (expensive because I only bought the chilli for this dish and then didn't use it - damn!)

Back to the sauce, I dropped the now pricked tomatoes into boiling water for 30 seconds, picked them out and stripped them of their skin. Now I had to squeeze the naked tomatoes to get the pips out, which somehow reminded me of milking a cow which is rather strange because as far as I know I've never milked a cow (take it away Farmer Jack). I just squeezed the tomatoes and pips and juice flew out at all angles - quite messy but effective and really good fun...

The tomatoes were chopped and added to the meatballs along with the lemon, remaining onions and garlic and slowly cooked until hot... finished and served - tapas dish complete.

I'm now a continental chef with experience in both Spanish and Italian dishes... surely something for the CV?

Zees continental cooking malarkey isn't zat difficult... is eet?

Don't forget to check out my Recipe Page if you would like to re-create any of my dishes - can you cut it?

Crumble

No, don't worry I'm not beaten yet... but it is the turn of an easy dessert.

Traditionally, Mum isn't a big dessert person (by that I mean a fan, not a person running round as a dessert - although that would be funny... to have a strudel for a Mum), so usually I would have to make do with a Muller yogurt or something similar. Saying that, it doesn't mean she doesn't know how to make them.

Today I decided which dessert I would like to know how to make, one which seems relatively easy and is coincidentally a personal favorite - Apple Crumble.

For those of you who have been following since day one or have read the previous posts, you may have realised I have a preparation problem when it comes to cooking - peeling in particular, but today I'm off on the right foot.

Peeling the apples wasn't a problem, in fact I'm getting that good with a peeler in hand I'm starting to see how long I can make a continuous peeling. I must have got one to at least 12cm of peel. So today Mum had nothing to say that would hurt my peelings.



A tool every kitchen needs

But it's no use getting excited... Mum pipped me to it and my first criticism came when I was taking the life (core) out of the apple. I'd quartered each apple and I was slicing the core out of each quarter... 'no, not like that', I was wasting to much of the 'good stuff'. So Mum told me to slice in halfway from each side, that way I would have less waste (probably not explaining this strategy too well?). Anyway, the result appeared to be the same, the core came out.

Once I'd diced the apples they sweated on a low heat, with a bit of sugar, until they turned slightly mushy. I have to admit I was tempted to wash them when Mum said they cooked by sweating - bit like a sauna really - not very appletising.

While the apples were cooking themselves we turned our attention to the crumble. Now, I quite enjoy making crumbles... it's not very often you're allowed to play with your food. So once I'd measure out the flour, sugar and marge (there was a reason why you use margarine not butter but I forget) I began turning it all into a crumble. Here I learn lesson number two (sorry, lesson number one was how to get to the core of an apple problem) don't let the mix touch your palms... I have no idea why but what Mum says goes.

Once the crumble looked like... well crumbs and the apples were happily sweaty it was a case of chucking them in a bowl and into the oven, obviously apple under crumble.

Here's a bonus... I made custard. When I asked Mum what quantities to use she replied 'two parts sand to one part cement'. Now were not building a house or anything, of course she meant two spoons of sugar and one of custard powder... then add your milk (which would be water if you are looking for a cement mix) and you're away.

It's all relatively simple, although I did attempt to make more custard shortly after and in all honesty I crumbled under the pressure, it was like gunge, might have to re-address this bugger.

But, this cooking malarkey isn't that difficult... saying that it's time to step things up a gear.

Image courtesy of 'food network store'

Spoggy Boggy

How is this for progress? Last Thursday I took on my first main course, which I thought was relatively easy.

Sticking with the theme of a simple three course feast, Mum decided she would teach me a traditional Morrey Spaghetti Bolognese (she likes to think we have Italian ancestors, but I'm not convinced).

After a brief conversation on Wednesday evening I had a choice between cooking Toad in the Hole or Spag Bol. I decided to turn down the toad as it's particularly difficult to catch the little critters at this time of year - the slippery little customers prefer much warmer weather.

Before I begin to waffle about my lesson I have to tell you that I came across a nifty spaghetti measuring gadget lying around the kitchen. A plastic tool, which appears to be supervised by a mouse. I still can't quite work out the connection between the spaghetti and the mouse but it seems to work.

We digress, thinking back to my first lesson cooking tomato soup, I was immediately faced with the same onion challenge I failed at last time. However, I had decided to look for a way to avoid the painful onion eyes and asked Mum for a top tip. She suggested that I leave the root of the offending onion intact and guess what it worked! It was brilliant, not a tear shed.

Now, peeling the ingredients appears to be a downfall in my cooking - last time carrots, this time garlic. I'd eventually peeled the two cloves as instructed by Mum who had told me that they would be easier to peel if I nipped their ends off. Next thing I heard 'that's half of the garlic gone you noodle' - now I thought we were cooking with spaghetti not noodles but apparently I was being far too generous with my waste. Oh well, not to worry.

Once I'd prepared the vegetables it was just a case of throwing all of the components into the pan. First up, browning the mince, which incidentally turns a grey sort of colour, was relatively easy with the onions and the garlic.

Usually at this point in proceedings, Mum might be tempted to throw in a Dolmio mix (or any other branded tomato based sauce). Seriously though when is your Dolmio day? My challenge was to make my own sauce.

With a squirt of tomato puree, a couple of tins of chopped tomatoes, some beef stock and chopped herbs we had the base to our sauce. But Mum wasn't finished there... with a dash of Worcestershire Sauce and some Lazy Chillies the mix was almost complete (by the way Mum claims that the last two are secret ingredients, so probably best not to tell anyone). Just as an aside, I've no idea what makes a chilli lazy, anyone?

Unlike last week Mum wasn't following a recipe because apparently cooking Bolognese is like riding a bike, 'once you have done it you don’t forget'. It's one of those meals you can have so often that it becomes boring, but it's surprising what different things you can come up with, off the top of your head, to zing it up a bit. 

Another thing which occurred to me whilst doing this is that when we came to looking in one of Jamie Oliver's cook books for a recipe for Spag Bol, we found that he seems to have a bit of an obsession with adding celery and carrots to all his meals. Now, you already know my feelings about my vegetable/tomato soup so you can imagine my surprise when Jamie's recipe for Spag Bol is almost identical, except for the obvious addition of minced beef. I'm not one to blow my own trumpet (cue fanfare) but I have to say, this Spag Bol was looking good and smelling incredible, move over Jamie.

As the spaghetti cooked I took the opportunity to check out an old wives tale. Apparently, according to some random old wife, rather than standing looking at the spaghetti boiling and generally umming and arring whether it's done, the old wife says 'if it sticks it's done, if it isn't it'll fall'.  I decided to lob a piece at the wall - the spaghetti was done - it stuck.

So there you have it, reasonably easy spaghetti bolognese.

This cooking malarkey isn't really difficult... is it? 

 

Oh, and if you grow tomatoes in your greenhouse I'm coming after you because there seems to be a theme in my cooking.

Ash Wednesday

Ash Wednesday is widely associated with food because it is the beginning of Lent. Now, I'm not usually one to carry on with the Shrove Tuesday thing past my pancakes, but this year I have decided to give it a go.

In the interest of my blog and to increase any chances of becoming a master chef I have decided to give up chocolate, sweets and fizzy drinks.

You may ask 'what has this got to do with your cooking blog?' well there is method in my madness because too often I substitute a good meal with a bar of Dairy Milk or a bag of Jelly Beans.

So, fizzy drinks aside, this should lead to me cooking more and consequently needing more lessons - after all I can't live on tomato soup alone.

I'm going to have to be more proactive about my cooking but I am still trying to figure out why I included fizzy drinks?

Oh well, we'll see how long this lasts.

Pancake Day

Well, here's a little treat... I was expecting to be blogging about a simple main course this evening but instead I am tossing up a topical challenge.

It's Shrove Tuesday and if you are anything like me that means it's PANCAKE DAY. Now this occasion crops up every year so you would think that we would all know how to make pancakes? Well I don't, or at least I didn't.

As always there is a cheat to this and buying a ready mix would be easy, just add water give it a shake and you're away, but frankly that would be flipping wrong because that's just not learning to cook. So I'm taking my second lesson and learning how to make pancakes - from scratch.

Now I was expecting to get battered during this lesson... I can't be doing with eggs! Once I'd measured my flour and milk, eggs were required (I thought Mum was yolking). Now I understand that raw meat comes from an animal and all that business but an egg comes from a chicken's backside... and the inside of an egg, well we won't even crack into that... first lesson of the day, don't think to much about the origin of eggs.

Anyway I get over my phobia and crack the egg into the mix.

Here I make mistake number one and decide to whisk the mixture using a fork, which proved to be eggstremely difficult. After a few minutes I was bush whacked so out came the electric whisk, I'm a wimp and technology wins. Lesson two, if it's powered by electricity use it!

Other than that everything about making the mix went swimmingly and my good form continued into the cooking process, until it came to flipping the pancake. Naturally Mum demonstrated the flippin procedure and I followed suit, however my first pancake turned into what can only be described as 'battered'. It was immediately discarded and I started again.

After that my pancakes were raved about and I'm sure certain tasters will leave comments (please leave comments).

I am now unofficially the best tosser in Shropshire.

Toppings at the bottom (don't ask)!

P.S Check out my how to make pancakes video on the recipes page.