Duck with beetroot salad

When I saw Anne's post about the match made in heaven that is beetroot and goat's cheese, I knew I wanted some. But I was also quite sure that Paul - not the biggest fan of the beet - would have something to say about it if I just handed him a plate of the salad.

So I had a think and decided that the other thing that just loves beetroot is duck. There is something about the sweet fattiness of the duck that works superbly with the sweet earthiness of beetroot. As a quick fling-together supper it is pretty good too. A bag of washed spinach leaves, a vac-pack of cooked beetroot (obviously it would be better if I roasted my own - pref a heritage mixture of different coloured beets pulled from my own garden but FFS it's Monday), a round of chevre, a handful of toasted pinenuts, a garlicky, mustardy dressing. When the pinenuts come out of the pan the duck breasts go in. 6 minutes a side for these plump lumps. Yum!

My inner red-neck

You have to admit, the Americans know a lot about BBQing pork. If James Villas is to be believed (and his recipe for fruitcake is the best ever, so I am inclined to believe him) every Southern child grew up with crackling in his hand and BBQ in his soul.

So when I decided that today was the day for pork (inspired - on a very small scale - by Heather's epic hog roast) I looked across the pond for guidance. Firstly, the all-important beverage. I figured that nothing channels the inner red-neck like JD, so I went for a Lynchberg lemonade (Jack Daniels, cointreau & lemonade) to keep me company while I was cooking.

I whipped up a batch of James Villas' Carolina vinegar sauce, bottled most of it and kept some back for dinner. If you like acid flavours, this is heaven - vinegar, ketchup, worcestershire sauce, chilli, mustard etc, all cooked together to a thin sauce.

Then I made some wholemeal beer bread, with the intention of turning my pork into sandwiches. The batter had the weirdest darn texture I have ever met (sort of fluffy), but cooked to a delicious, crumbly, and completely unsandwichable bread. Brilliant for mopping up juices though.

I rubbed a lovely piece of pork belly with salt, pepper and grated nutmeg and let it sit while Paul did the blokey thing with charcoal and hickory chips.

35 minutes with the lid on the Weber and it was fab. The juiciest and most delicious pork, the lovely vinegary sauce, a good pile of celeriac remoulade (because my dear husband couldn't bear the idea of coleslaw) and the excellent malty wheaty bread.

So, as opposed as I am to American foreign policy (and my sad conviction that Obama is going down because the good ol' boys will come out just to vote against a black man), I am totally in favour of pork Southern style. I may well do grits and red-eye gravy for breakfast tomorrow.

Friday night

Here it is, Friday again, and as ever, we have the Friday afternoon dilemma. I finish work at 4 on a Friday. My husband finishes 5.30-6pm. So if we want to meet up and do stuff, I either have to do an unfeasible amount of extra work, or find things to fill in time that do not involve buying more shoes. Because I really have enough shoes to be getting on with (for this season...)

Today I hit upon the answer. The salon where I get my hair (head and body) dealt with has a loyalty card, and in my purse was a full card. So I phoned and asked if I could redeem it for a file & varnish at 4.15. And calloo callay they could. I asked for their sluttiest red. It had gone gloopy and I was asked to make another choice. I went for the anti-red, with a glass of champagne and a dish of kettle crisps, because it is a classy sort of joint.

So it was with brilliant turquoise nails that I set forth down the Monopoly board of London streets. Across Leicester Sq (£260), down Piccadilly (£280), along Bond St (£320) and into the heart of Mayfair. To go to a pub that I was assured did home-made pork scratchings. And even better - served a whole sheet of pork scratchings on a wooden board with a mallet to break them up with.

Alas - our plans hit a snag at this point. The Windmill (3 times winner of Britain's best steak & kidney pie competition) has stopped doing the pork scratchings. We made do with a lesser bar snack - a really fabulous 8" sausage roll. Nicely seasoned and with lovely flaky pastry. At this point I realised that I should have brought my camera and made do with the phone... Stonking shadow on the parsley, I thought. And it is Mayfair, so when I insisted on dead horse (and was polite enough to call it ketchup) they brought out Heinz.
Of course, woman cannot live by sausage roll alone, so we crossed Regent St (£300) and went to La Trouvaille, just off Carnaby St which is a really lovely place to go if you want a plate of something nice and a glass of something sippable.

The charcuterie plate is an old fave, but I didn't think it was absolutely enough for 2, so I encouraged Paul to get half a dozen oysters, and while he was distracted by these plump Brittany beauties I dived into the pork. Rillettes (better texture than my home made but not as well-flavoured) a lovely pate, a sort of salami (quite mild but rolled in pepper), some ham and a sausage that reminds me of something we used to get from Iseli's Swiss butcher in Ashfield when I was a child. Cornichon, pickled onions, 2 sorts of bread. I had a glass of rose, he had a glass of a pretty butch red.

Scuttled home and still had time for a bottle of cava, an episode of Chuck and a frustrating period trying to figure out how to get the bloody photos off my phone. The perfect Friday night.

Cheesy veg bake

Hey even hardened omnivores like us need a meat-free meal from time -to-time. The cheesy veg bake is fairly regular for us. This one does away with making roux etc but you still end up with a pretty decent, creamy sauce. I can't remember whose recipe this was originally (in a newspaper, I think), but I do remember that I have improved it beyond all measure.

Cheesy veg bake

Saute a couple of sliced, washed leeks in butter. Add a large bag of baby spinach (wilted by pouring a jug of boiling water over it as it sits in a colander in the sink. Stab at the mass of spinach a bit with your spoon, to separate it out.

Add a small jar of marinated artichoke hearts, drained, then stir in grated nutmeg, a heaped teaspoon of dijon mustard, ground white pepper and 200g crumbled gorgonzola piccante. As the cheese is starting to melt but before it makes a hideous mess of your pan, pour it into a baking dish. Top with a bit more crumbled gorgonzola and some pinenuts. If I had remembered that I had a bag of panko breadcrumbs in the pantry, I would have used some of them too. We bought a big tub of cheap pinenuts at the Asian supermarket a while back, so I could afford to be profligate with them. Bake at 180C for about 1/2 hour until everything is bubbly and melted and browned on top. Serves 2 as is, 4 with rice, 6 as a side dish.

The simple things

It can be hard to beat a BBQd sausage. These were lovely coarse-cut ones flavoured with nutmeg and black pepper.

St John the Baptist's Day

Today is the feast day of St John the Baptist. Which means it is time to harvest your green walnuts for making liqueurs and candied walnuts. I jumped the gun yesterday and brought some in while my husband was BBQing sausages for dinner, but today I will be collecting more. This post on the walnut liqueur is inspiring, and I will certainly follow one of Judy's methods. I find this Dutch recipe for candied green walnuts (you need to scroll down a bit) fascinating, because it shows that the Dutch agree with the Italians on the right day for your harvesting, but also I swear it is talking about a sweetmeat that Elizabeth David writes about in Italian Food. I must dig out that reference and cross-check.

Apricot and Ginger Curd

For this month's Foodie Blogroll Joust the nominated ingredients were apricots, ginger and butter. I decided to make a fruit curd, with layers of different forms of apricot and ginger so I started from this recipe and then went my own way.

Apricot and Ginger Curd (makes about 750ml)

10 dried apricots ~ roughly chopped
10 fresh apricots (about 400g) ~ washed, stoned and quartered
1 medium bramley apple ~ peeled, cored and chopped
2 tbs lemon juice
50ml green ginger wine
120g caster sugar
120g butter
2 eggs, beaten
2 knobs of stem ginger ~ sliced into julienne

Combine the dried and fresh apricots, apple, lemon juice, ginger wine and sugar in a pan and cook gently over a low heat until the sugar has dissolved and the fruit is collapsing to fluff. Cool, then process until quite smooth. Place in a bowl over a pan of simmering water and add the eggs and butter, cut into cubes, and the stem ginger. Cook, stirring constantly, until thickened (but before the eggs scramble). Pot while still hot into sterilised jars.

This doesn't have as much sugar or acid in it as a lemon curd, so it'll last a couple of weeks in the fridge but not that long.

Once you have your pot of curd, you can eat it on toast or scones , or you can layer it with Greek yogurt and crumbled ginger biscuits for a really easy dessert, or you can use it as the main flavouring for an absolutely killer cheesecake. I am really pleased how the cheesecake turned out actually, smooth and rich and perfectly tangy.

Apricot and Ginger Cheesecake

Crumb crust made from 1 packet oatmeal biscuits, 100g ground almonds, 1/2 tsp ground ginger and about 75g melted butter, pressed into base and sides of 10" springform caketin.

450g cream cheese
2tbs plain flour
3tbs caster sugar
250ml apricot and ginger curd ~ plus extra for glazing
2 eggs ~ beaten

Beat the cream cheese until fluffy, then add the other ingredients and mix well. Pour into crumb crust and bake at 180C for 45 minutes. Remove from oven, spread with a thin layer of extra curd (about 3-4tbs) and return to oven and bake another 20 minutes, then turn off the heat and allow to cool slowly.