Hot Ricotta Dip with Thyme, Chilli and Garlic

The word 'dip' implies a cold mixture, but why shouldn't it be piping hot, molten and herby? Because winter's coming roaring towards us in the Cape, my thoughts have turned to comforting food, so here's my first cold-weather recipe of the season.

I'm such a fan of good ricotta cheese. I admit that it doesn't have the sexy, fatty, stringiness of melted hard cheeses, or the creamy crumbliness of a good feta or similar white cheese. But I love the plainness and cleanness of the taste of ricotta, and its wonderful grainy texture.

Here's a basic recipe for a hot ricotta dip that you can gussy up with all sort of interesting ingredients. Here, I've used chopped artichoke hearts, lemon juice, garlic, herbs and dried chilli flakes, but you can really add anything you please, provided that it's an ingredient that tastes good hot. Avocado, for example, is out, and I'd avoid anything with a vaguely bitter taste, such as olives.

Make sure you serve this piping hot, and straight away. The leftovers are lovely on hot toast, for breakfast. This makes quite a large quantity, but the recipe is easily halved.

Hot Ricotta Dip with Herbs, Chilli and Garlic
350 g fresh ricotta cheese
100 g finely grated Pecorino or Parmesan
1½ tsp (7.5 ml) dried red chilli flakes
the juice of half a lemon
a clove of garlic, peeled and very finely chopped
2 tsp (10 ml) fresh thyme leaves
2 tsp (10 ml) finely snipped chives
2 T (30 ml) olive oil
a tin of artichoke hearts, drained and chopped
salt and milled black pepper, to taste

Heat the oven to 180ºC. Set aside a quarter of the grated Pecorino. Put all the remaining ingredients into a mixing bowl and stir very well to combine. The mixture should form a slightly firm paste. If it looks too dry, add a little milk. Pack the mixture into bowls and top with the remaining grated Pecorino. Bake at 180º C for ten minutes, or until the mixture is bubbling and heated right through. Now turn on the oven grill and grill for a few minutes, or until the topping is golden. Serve very hot, with nachos or crackers.

Serves 6 to 8 as a starter

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Luxurious Cauliflower Cheese with Bacon and Leeks

It always surprises me how many kids love cauliflower cheese because, face it, this is not the most attractive of vegetables. I make a big dish of this perennial family favourite once a fortnight or so, and although there are sometimes moans from the teens, there is never a morsel left in the dish.

If your kids turn up their noses at this humble dish, try my souped-up version, which is packed with flavour and many calories, containing as it does butter, bacon, wine, Parmesan and cream.

Do you notice how unapologetic I sound about this? I am, because life would be very miserable indeed, in my opinion, if it weren't for butter, bacon and cream. Do cut the strips of fat off the bacon rashers, though, as the fat will make the sauce oily.

The decadent topping of butter-fried breadcrumbs was suggested to me by someone on Twitter, who told me that this is a traditional Polish topping. If this is just too rich for you, sprinkle the top of the dish with equal quantities of dried breadcrumbs and grated Parmesan.

Luxurious Cauliflower Cheese with Bacon and Leeks

2 small cauliflowers, broken into florets
4 Tbsp (60 ml) butter
8 rashers back bacon, fat removed, diced
4 medium leeks, white parts only, finely sliced
1 clove garlic, peeled and crushed
a bay leaf
a large sprig of fresh thyme
½ cup (125 ml) white wine
100 ml flour
700 ml milk
2 tsp (10 ml) Dijon mustard
juice of half a lemon
1½ cups (about 150 g) grated Cheddar
3 Tbsp (45 ml) grated Parmesan
½ cup (125 ml) cream
salt and white pepper

To top:
1 cup (250 ml) fresh breadcrumbs
100 g butter
a little paprika or cayenne pepper

Heat the oven to 180 ºC.

Cook the cauliflower in rapidly boiling salted water for about 7-8 minutes, or until just tender. Drain well and set aside.

Heat the butter in a large saucepan and add the bacon bits. Fry for 2 minutes, then tip in the sliced leeks, garlic, bay leaf and thyme sprig. Turn down the heat and cook gently for about 7 minutes, or until the leeks are soft. Add the wine, turn up the heat, and bubble briskly until almost all the liquid has evaporated.

Now sprinkle the flour over the leeks and stir well. Add the milk, a little at a time, stirring continuously as the sauce thickens. Allow to bubble gently for a few minutes to cook away any floury taste.

Stir in the mustard and lemon juice, and remove from the heat. Fish out the thyme and the bayleaf and discard. Now add the grated cheddar and Parmesan, and continue stirring until the cheese has completely melted. Finally, stir in the cream.

Season to taste with salt and white pepper.

Pile the cooked cauliflower into a greased ovenproof dish and pour the sauce evenly over the top, nudging the florets so that the sauce seeps between them.

To make the topping, heat some butter in a frying pan and add the breadcrumbs. Fry until golden. Pour the butter/breadcrumb mix all over the top of the cauliflower cheese.

Dust very lightly with paprika or cayenne pepper and bake at 180º C for 20 minutes, or until golden and bubbling

Serve with a crisp green salad.

Serves 6 - 8

If you like this, try my Cauliflower with Butter, Lemon, Parsley and Crispy Breadcrumbs

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Elinor's Salad of Broad Beans and Asparagus, topped with a Poached Egg and Parmesan Shavings

Okay, my daughter Elinor, age 10, didn't actually want to eat this salad, but, because she grew these broad beans herself, she was enchanted to see her crop mature into edible vegetables. And there is something so rewarding about planting seeds and seeing them transform into fresh, crunchy things you can eat.  >>  Click here to go straight to the recipe.

To the credit of my children, they have, over time, eagerly planted all sorts of things: seeds, seedlings, marbles, socks, toys, fish-fingers, stiff hamsters, rigid budgies and, on one memorable occasion, a bare foot through a glass window. Mostly, the results of these plantings have been pathetic (and painful and expensive, in the case of the foot).  Small children have no patience, and they lose interest so quickly.   Watering a seedling that shows no inclination to turn into a carrot within four hours holds no appeal for a child.  Particularly - and this was my mistake in my earlier mommy-gardening years - if it was sown in a barren, shady patch at the saddest end of the garden.

All that changed three years ago, when I asked a friend - a professional garden landscaper- to do a little revamp of my suburban patch. There were three things she insisted upon: a) that every bed in this 60-year-old garden should be excavated to a depth of 75 cm, and refilled with a dark, rich, fruit-cakey soil mixture b) that an irrigation system be installed and c) that I buy an enormous amount of good compost. If these three things were done, she said, I would reap the rewards for many years to come.

She was quite right (thanks, Tracey!).  My garden jungled, and twelve months later, when a black frost killed the ornamental shrubs in a 50-cm-wide strip running down one garden wall, I pulled them out, recomposted the beds and planted every vegetable and herb and tree that I could lay my hands on. The reward: bountiful crops of lovely fresh greens and veggies. Which just goes to show that you really don't need a lot of space to grow your own food.

Anyway, Elinor has eagerly inspected her mustard greens, rocket, lettuce, carrots and broad beans - all grown from packets - every day for months.  And when the beans were finally harvested and eaten - by me, greedily, and with slurping noises - well, this girl was in heaven: I heard her singing as she picked her crop.

This is not to say that there is any monetary profit whatsoever in growing your own vegetables on a small scale (although it's definitely cheaper to grow your own herbs). The yield is really tiny, and it's far, far cheaper to buy them from your local greengrocer. But, then again, you will have the satisfaction of knowing that you've shown your child how to grow something, and how delicious that something tastes like when it is plucked straight out of the earth.  You will also know exactly where that produce came from, and you can even bask in the knowledge that it is really, truly  and terribly organic.  (See my post about the dubious greeniness of growing your own veg).      

This recipe needs and deserves a hot poached egg, with a runny centre.  If you are not confident about poaching an egg in boiling water (and this is extremely tricky, given the humdrum quality of South African eggs), use my cling-film method, which you will find in the recipe below.  

Elinor's Salad of Broad Beans and Asparagus, topped with a Poached Egg and Parmesan Shavings

For the dressing:
a small clove of fresh garlic, peeled
a pinch of salt
4 T (60 ml) olive oil
the juice of a lemon
half a teaspoon (2.5 ml) Dijon mustard

For the salad:
1 cup (250 ml) fresh broad beans [fava beans], taken out of their pods
10 small spears of fresh asparagus, sliced into 3-cm-long pieces
a handful (about half a cup; 125 ml) flat-leaf parsley, very finely chopped
2 fresh eggs
1 T (25 ml) white vinegar (see notes below about egg-poaching)
a small wedge of Parmesan cheese (Grana Padano or Pecorino will do)
freshly milled black pepper

First make the dressing. Crush the garlic (in a mortar, with the salt, or with a garlic crusher) and, in a little bowl, whisk it together with the other dressing ingredients.

Bring a pan of salted water to a rolling boil. Tip in all the broad beans, and cook for three minutes.  Remove   from the boiling water, using a slotted spoon, and place in a bowl. If you are dealing with big broad beans, slip off their white skins by making a small slit with a knife and squeezing them gently. If they are tiny, leave them as they are. Now add the asparagus to the water and cook at a rapid boil for 4-5 minutes, or until  just tender. Remove, drain well and add to the bowl containing the beans. Leave the water boiling.

Now poach the eggs: if you're using the traditional method, add a splash of white vinegar to the water, which should be gently boiling.  Break the first egg into a tea cup.  Using a big spoon, stir the water rapidly to create a vortex. Gently tip the egg into the boiling water.  Poach for three to four minutes, or until the egg white is cooked through, but the yolk is still runny. Remove the egg with a slotted spoon and set aside.  Do the same with the second egg.

Or, use my cheat's method: press a piece of clingfilm (saran wrap) into a ramekin dish or teacup, or a similarly sized bowl.  Allow the clingfilm generously to overlap the edges of the dish. Using your fingers, rub a little vegetable oil over the surface of the clingfilm (but only over those parts pressed up against the edges of the bowl).  Break the egg - keeping its yolk intact - into the lined dish.  Now gather up the edges, pull them upwards and twist them lightly together to make a small 'purse'. Submerge the 'purse' in the boiling water. You will need to hold this package while it cooks, or, at a pinch, you can drape its edges over the side of the pan. Cook for two and a half to three minutes, or until the egg white is cooked through, but the yolk is hot but still runny.  Lift the purse from the water  and put it on a chopping board. Carefully peel away and flatten the clingfilm. Gently slide a metal spatula under the egg to loosen it, taking care not to break the yolk.  Trim away any ragged edges, using a sharp knife.

Pour the dressing over the warm beans and asparagus and stir in the chopped parsley. Toss well to combine and season with salt and pepper.  Pile the salad onto a plate and top with the hot poached eggs. Using a potato peeler, shave thin slices off the cheese and scatter them over the salad.  Serve immediately.

Serves 2. 

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Heaven on a plate: Fillet, Mash and Rocket with Balsamic glaze

My recipe of the year - this really is heaven on a plate; the most sublime combination of flavours and textures. Actually, it's not my recipe, but my humble imitation of an exquisite plate of food served up at Al Fiume, a very good Italian country restaurant set on the banks of the lovely Hennops River, about 45 minutes' drive north of Johannesburg. In the kitchen is the inspired Giancarlo Pironi, formerly of Assaggi and arguably South Africa's best Italian chef.

This is the perfect dinner-party dish. It's easy to make and not at all fiddly, provided you move quickly, keep everything piping-hot and buy the very best matured fillet and and the pepperiest, freshest rocket and sharpest Parmesan. This recipe serves 10, but is easily halved.

I blush at the fact that this dish is vertically stacked on the plate (I detest towers of food, but in this case the piling of rocket upon steak upon mash is entirely justified).

Fillet with Mash, Rocket, Parmesan and a Balsamic Vinegar Glaze

2 whole fillet steaks
2 T (30 ml) Dijon mustard
2 T (30 ml) olive oil
3 T (45 ml) good soy sauce (Kikkoman)
salt and milled black pepper

oil and butter for frying

10 large floury potatoes, peeled and quartered
milk and butter

fresh rocket (about 3 'pillow packs', or enough to fill a medium salad bowl)
a wedge of cold Parmesan or Grana Padano
freshly squeezed juice of 2 lemons
a glug of olive oil

200 ml balsamic vinegar

An hour or two before you're going to cook them, trim and prepare the fillets (click here for details). Place the fillets in a ceramic dish and, using your hands, smear with the mustard and olive oil. Pour the soy sauce over the meat, cover with clingfilm and set aside (out of the fridge, so they can come up to room temperature).

Preheat the oven to 190°C and place a baking sheet in the oven to heat.

Put the potatoes into a pan of salted water, bring to the boil and cook until quite tender. Drain in a colander, allow to dry out for 5 minutes, and then put them back in the pan. Place the pan back on the heat, add a splash of milk and a large knob of butter, and mash until fluffy and very smooth. Season with salt and pepper, cover and keep hot.

In a large frying pan, heat some olive oil and butter until very hot - just short of smoking. Remove the fillets from the ceramic dish, shake off the liquid, season well with salt and pepper and place into the hot fat. Quickly brown the fillets on all sides until nicely caramelised (this should take about 6 -7 minutes). Put the fillets on the heated baking sheet and place them in the oven for 7-12 minutes, or until done (they should be a nice rosy pink inside - cut a slit in the thickest part of the fillet to check for doneness). Leave the frying pan and its juices on the stove. Put 10 plates in the warmer drawer.

While the fillet is baking, tip the rocket leaves into a deep bowl. Using a potato peeler, shave the Parmesan or Grana Padano into large thin flakes and add to the bowl. Now add the lemon juice and olive oil, in equal quantities, season with salt and pepper and toss well to coat.

Turn the heat on under the pan you fried the fillets in. Tip the liquid left in the ceramic marinating dish into the hot pan and stir well to loosen any sediment. Pour in the balsamic vinegar. Allow to bubble over a high heat until reduced by about half, to a slightly syrupy glaze.

To serve: Take the fillets out of the oven, cover and allow to rest for 5 minutes. Carve into 20 1-cm-thick slices. Put a generous mound of hot mashed potato into the centre of each plate and drizzle with a little olive oil. Place 2 slices of fillet on the mash (they should lean casually against the mound). Sprinkle with a few drops of balsamic glaze. Top with a generous handful - an extravagant crowning tuft - of the rocket and Parmesan.

Now, in best cheffy style, take a teaspoon of the balsamic glaze and make a pretentious designer dribble around the edges of the plate.

Serve immediately, to rapturous applause.

Serves 10.

Note: Don't shave the Parmesan in advance - it tends to dry out and get a bit greasy. Print Friendly