Kitchen Memories

Put a pan of water on to boil with a pinch of salt. Add the sea kale to the boiling water and cook for 4–5 minutes or until just tender, then, using a slotted spoon, carefully transfer on to kitchen paper and dab off any excess water. Divide the kale between the plates. Arrange 3 or 4 orange slices here and there on the kale and add a generous blob of mayonnaise. Scatter the viola flowers and a few leaves of the purslane or lamb’s lettuce over the top, then add a very light drizzle of extra-virgin olive oil. Season with salt and pepper.

LEMONY CHICKEN WITH FRESH CORIANDER

My sister Hester is a very organised person and over the years has kept notes of recipes from friends and family. This recipe is taken from the notes that she wrote while watching Rose (who had recently returned from Kerala) pounding and grinding the many spices that make the lemony chicken so fresh and vibrant. It became a regular supper in the house whenever we wanted something spicy and, as long as you get all the ingredients prepared first, it is fairly quick and easy to make.

There is a wonderfully pleasurable moment when you add the pounded spices to the fresh ginger and garlic in the hot oil – all the aromas are released and the whole kitchen fills with exotic smells.

SERVES 4

20g fresh root ginger, peeled and chopped into small chunks

3 garlic cloves, peeled

¼ tsp ground turmeric

2 tsp coriander seeds

2 tsp cumin seeds

¼ tsp cayenne pepper

1 medium-sized chicken, jointed into its various parts (the butcher will do this for you)

3 tbsp olive oil

juice of 1½ lemons

1 fresh green chilli, stalk removed, then finely chopped (deseed if you prefer it less hot)

1 small bunch of fresh coriander, leaves picked from their stems, washed, dried and finely chopped

sea salt and black pepper

Put the ginger into the food processor with 2–3 tablespoons of water and blend to a paste.

Put the garlic, turmeric, coriander and cumin seeds and cayenne pepper into a pestle and mortar and pound together.

Season the chicken pieces well all over with salt and pepper

Heat a drizzle of the olive oil in a shallow, heavy-based pan, add the chicken pieces and brown them on all sides – it may be easier to brown them in batches if your pan is too small to fit them in without overlapping. Using a slotted spoon, transfer the chicken to a bowl.

Put the garlic and spice mixture into the still-hot pan (you may need to add a little more oil) and stir to release their flavours. Add the ginger and chopped chilli and stir-fry for a minute or so. Add the chicken pieces and any juices that have been released, then add 8 tablespoons of water and the lemon juice. Stir, then turn up the heat and bring to a boil, cover with a tight-fitting lid and turn the heat right down to a gentle simmer. Cook for 15 minutes until the chicken is tender and cooked through. Remove the lid and scatter the chopped coriander over. Serve with spiced basmati rice (see here).

SPICED BASMATI RICE

FOR 4 (GENEROUSLY)

300g basmati rice

2 tbsp olive oil

1 small red onion, peeled and finely chopped

½ small fresh green chilli, cut in half lengthways, deseeded, stalk removed, then finely chopped

2 garlic cloves, peeled and finely chopped

500ml chicken stock

sea salt

FOR THE GARAM MASALA

1 tbsp cardamom pods, husks removed – leaving 1 tsp cardamom seeds

½ cinnamon stick

1 tsp black cumin seeds

2 whole cloves

¼ whole nutmeg, grated on the zest part of the grater

½ tsp whole black peppercorns

Grind all the ingredients for the garam masala together in a pestle and mortar or coffee grinder.

Put the rice in a colander or sieve and wash under cold water until the water runs clear. Put the rice in a large bowl, cover with cold water and leave to soak for minutes, then leave to drain for 20 minutes or so.

Heat the olive oil in a heavy-based pan over a medium heat, add the onion and fry gently until light golden in colour. Add the chilli and garlic and cook for a further 2–3 minutes. Add the garam masala and cook for a further minute or so, then add the rice and stir together well, so that the rice is coated with the spices and oil. Add just enough chicken stock to cover the rice and season with a little salt, then cover with a lid and bring to the boil. Turn the heat down and simmer over a very low heat for 5 minutes. Take off the heat and leave covered for 10 minutes – the steam will keep the rice nice and fluffy. Taste to check if the rice is ready – it should have a little bite.

GUINEA FOWL WITH PROSCIUTTO, MASCARPONE AND LEMON

Theo Randall, the head chef at the River Café for many wonderful years, taught me how, with just a few simple ingredients, to turn a dull breast of chicken into something more exciting to eat … a little lemon zest grated into creamy mascarpone with some finely chopped rosemary and then stuffed between the chicken’s flesh and skin, followed by – to add more flavour – a small slice from the end of the Parma ham (this is the bit where the flavour is intensified, where the fat is just as sweet as the meaty bits). I like to make it with guinea fowl, with its slightly gamey flavour.

FOR 4

150g mascarpone

1 sprig of fresh rosemary, leaves picked from their stems, washed, dried and finely chopped

1 small unwaxed lemon

4 guinea fowl breast supremes, skin on, or 4 chicken supremes with wing attached

4 slices of prosciutto

olive oil

a knob of butter

sea salt and black pepper

Preheat the oven to 210ºC (190ºC fan) Gas 6½ Put the mascarpone and chopped rosemary in a bowl. Grate the lemon on the zest part of the grater and add to the bowl. Season with salt and pepper and mix together.

Place each supreme on a board and push your fingers up between the skin and the flesh to make an opening. Reserve a generous spoonful of the mascarpone mixture for the sauce. Put a spoonful of the mixture between the skin and flesh, then insert a slice of prosciutto to lie flat against the skin (if the slice is too large, tear it in half). Season the breasts on the outside.

Use a small roasting tin or shallow, flameproof, ovenproof dish large enough to hold the supremes in one layer. Heat a drizzle of olive oil and the butter in the tin or dish and brown the breasts on both sides until golden. Place in the oven for 15 minutes until cooked. Transfer the breasts to a serving dish and keep warm. Add the reserved mascarpone to the hot pan with a squeeze of lemon – the mascarpone will melt and mingle with the lemon juice to make a delicious sauce to pour over the breasts. Serve straight away.

BROAD BEANS AND MINT

FOR 4

1kg broad beans in their pods

2 garlic cloves, peeled and crudely cut into slices

2–3 sprigs of fresh mint, washed and dried

extra-virgin olive oil

salt and black pepper

Bring a pan of water to a boil while you are podding the beans, then put the beans in. Cook for 3–4 minutes – the smaller and younger they are the less cooking is needed. Drain, then put in a bowl with the garlic and mint. Pour enough extra-virgin olive oil over to coat the beans, then season with salt and pepper. Let the hot beans take on the flavour of the garlicky, minty olive oil for 3 minutes or so, then remove the raw garlic pieces and the mint before serving.

BROAD-LEAVED ROCKET

Broad-leaved rocket is incredibly easy to grow as a cut-and-come-again salad leaf. It has a wonderful peppery flavour that goes so well with tomatoes, or if you need a leaf that ‘cuts’ into other flavours, or as an alternative to flat-leaf parsley. It is just so useful to have available on your windowsill or in the garden – you will always have some fresh green leaves to add to your meal without having to go and buy the commercially produced wild rocket, which tends to lack flavour.

Rocket will grow pretty much anywhere, in shade or sunlight. You can sprinkle a few seeds in pots that contain trees, shrubs or perennials, or on a bare patch of soil. It germinates in a few days and can be picked after a few weeks. The first growth is less peppery than the second, when the stems become thicker and the leaves a slightly darker green with a stronger flavour. March/April is a good time to sow seed – every twelve weeks or so will give a continuous crop. When the summer gets going the plants tend to bolt, producing small, delicate, white flowers, which can be used in salads. After this the plants will be too tired to produce anything more worth picking, by which time your new sowing will have got under way and should be ready for picking the first young leaves.

Rocket will self-seed if you leave the flowers on. Sow direct around mid-March as the ground starts to warm up.

COOKING WITH ROSE

My memories of cooking with Rose picture her slicing, prodding, mixing, tying, rolling, chopping – she loved her mezzaluna for chopping the herbs when she was making salsa verde. Kitchen equipment essentials were quite basic. Pasta was rolled out with a glass bottle if the rolling pin couldn’t be found. Mayonnaise was made in the pestle and mortar; pastry, cakes, eggs and cream were hand-whisked in a bowl. Meat was minced in a hand-operated meat grinder clamped to the side of the table.

Not having a food processor or KitchenAid made the preparation of food both social and instructive; friends would be given a board, a knife and a glass of wine with directions on how finely to chop the garlic or how to remove the sprouting, bitter green shoot in the winter cloves. Peppercorns were crushed in a crude wooden bowl with a large round stone just before cooking so that their oils remained fresh. Pressing ‘pulse’ on the processor seemed a cold and distant way to chop the civilising herbs … Rose’s hands were constantly moving like little birds – lots of contact with whatever ingredient was being prepared seemed to bring life into every aspect of the making of a meal. A good friend remarked, after Rose’s death, that she had taught him how to live.

Rose was an incredible teacher in that you came away from your experience of cooking with her and somehow life had changed. Her attention to the possibilities of the ingredients she used and the nature and character of the condition they were in would determine how she prepared and cooked them. She was also quite scary – if I questioned whether it was really necessary to peel the individual skins off every chickpea she had boiled (and a normal 500g packet is a lot of chickpeas), she would give me one of her intensely penetrating glares.

CAMONE TOMATO, COPPA DI PARMA AND RICOTTA SALAD

‘Camone’ tomatoes arrive at the beginning of spring, imported from Sicily. They are sold on the stem with medium-sized greeny-red fruits. They have a tangy quality that reflects the lack of sun that sweetens the tomatoes later in the season. I love the firm texture and taste of this tomato, which goes so well with the light and creamy ricotta and the deep earthy and sweet flavours of the coppa (the cured rolled shoulder of pig).

FOR 4

1 small bunch of fresh marjoram, leaves picked from their stems, washed and dried (about 3 tbsp of leaves)

extra-virgin olive oil

1 lemon

3–4 ‘Camone’ tomatoes (or ‘Marinda’, another early variety with a firm, slightly crunchy texture and fantastic flavour)

12 slices of coppa di Parma (cured pork shoulder)

150g buffalo ricotta

a few leaves of broad-leaved rocket or lamb’s lettuce, washed and dried

sea salt and black pepper

Make the salmoriglio (sauce) by crushing the marjoram leaves with a pinch of sea salt in the pestle and mortar until a rough paste is formed. Add 2 tablespoons of extra-virgin olive oil and a squeeze of lemon and stir together.

Slice the tomatoes in half crossways (not through the stem) and then cut roughly into pieces so that you have odd shapes. Season with a little salt (remember that the salmoriglio has some in) and pepper and coat with a little extra-virgin olive oil.

Put a few pieces of tomato on to each plate, divide the coppa up and curl it through the tomatoes as if it were unfolding. Spoon teaspoons of the buffalo ricotta over the salad and add a few rocket or lamb’s lettuce leaves. Dribble the salmoriglio sparingly over the top.

RABBIT STEW

We had rabbits as pets when we were little. My brother Dante refused to let our mother put rabbit on the menu at the River Café for years and then one day it featured: the pet was on the plate.

Nothing makes me feel like spring is here more than broad beans. I love them with rabbit cooked with herbs, carrots and some white wine.

Farmed rabbit flesh is delicate and tender compared to wild rabbit, which tends to be tougher and has a stronger, gamier flavour.

FOR 4

1 whole rabbit, cut into its various parts, legs removed and saddle cut into similar-sized pieces (the butcher will do this)

20–30g unsalted butter

olive oil

4–6 spring carrots, washed, ends trimmed, chopped at an angle about cm thick

2 celery sticks, ends trimmed, cut into 1cm thick slices

2 garlic cloves, peeled and finely chopped

4 slices of pancetta or good-quality smoked streaky bacon, cut into mm pieces

a few sprigs of fresh rosemary or thyme, washed and dried

500ml good-quality dry white wine

salt and black pepper

Use a heavy-based pan with a lid that is large enough to hold the rabbit and the juices. Season the rabbit well on all sides with salt and pepper.

Put the pan on the heat and add half the butter and a drizzle of olive oil. When the butter starts to sizzle, add the rabbit pieces and brown the meat on all sides, then remove them to a plate. You may not have room in the pan to brown all the rabbit in one go, in which case do a few pieces at a time.

Add the remaining butter to the pan with 1 tablespoon of olive oil and the carrots and celery. Let them sweat gently for 8–10 minutes until they become slightly soft on the outside. Add the garlic and pancetta and continue to cook over a medium heat until the pancetta is just about to start turning golden in colour, then add the rosemary or thyme sprigs. Put the rabbit pieces back in the pan with any juices that have been released and add the wine, which should come about two-thirds of the way up the pan. (The rabbit need not be totally submerged.) Let the wine come to a boil, then put the lid on and turn the heat down to a gentle simmer (or you could put it in the oven at 200ºC (180ºC fan) Gas 6). Cook for about hour, occasionally turning the rabbit pieces over to keep them moist. Serve with broad beans and mint (see here).

EARLY MARCH

This is a strange time of year for ingredients. It can be cold, windy and frosty with days that have buds on stems outlined by blue skies. Leafy vegetables that grow above ground and need frost to taste their best have been delicious; cavolo nero and the chicory family have kept a balance with all the autumn root vegetables. It is time for change, to lighten up even though the produce remains quite limited. The game season finished at the end of February and the spring lamb has yet to come in.

The forced shoots of rhubarb and sea kale are an early sign of spring and are eaten almost as a delicacy. For me, sea kale marks a transition from the winter months into early spring. By eating the early sprouting shoots it seems as if you are literally eating a mouthful of a season to come.

Thinking about what to cook in March is really about how to change the way I approach the ingredients I have been cooking with all winter. There are new arrivals in the form of early carrots and small baby turnips, which have a vibrancy to them that is incredibly refreshing after months of earthy flavours. Beetroots in the shops, or stored since the autumn, look tired and are soft to the touch, with slackened skin that needs removing before they are boiled or roasted. They look ugly too, their skins like overcoats that have spent too long in the trenches covering the wrong type of sweetness. Whereas in summer beetroots can be pulled from the ground, their skins, taut and full of flavour, are kept on and they are delicious roasted or boiled whole when they are still relatively small and young.

At this time of year I want to make light of the ingredients available; griddling a chicken breast or poaching a chicken with a few carrots, leeks and celery seems less hearty and comforting than making a stew of it, which is more suited to cold nights. Early soft-leaved herbs such as marjoram, mint and parsley add an enlivening quality that reminds me of spring and new growth.

FLATTENED CHICKEN WITH HERBS AND LEMON

Beating the chicken breasts between two pieces of greaseproof paper until they are about cm thick and have spread out makes them tender and quick to cook on a grill or griddle. It feels good not to be baking or roasting or stewing after the winter months.

I often cut up a whole chicken if I am not going to use the whole bird in one meal, and then marinate it in lemon and olive oil and whatever herb is around. In March it is usually an evergreen herb such as rosemary, thyme or bay. This is a delicious way of cooking the breasts, but you can also use the boned-out thighs.

In March I serve the chicken with purple sprouting broccoli, as it has just come into season and is at its best. Later on you could have it with some broad beans and peas, or in the summer with a simple tomato salad. At the Sticky Wicket, in Antigua, they griddle flattened chicken to make a delicious hot sandwich with tomato, salad leaves, sour cream and the local chilli sauce.

It is important to eat the chicken as soon as possible after it has come off the grill, when the flesh is still juicy and full of flavour.

FOR 4

4 boned chicken breasts, skin on with the wing bone still attached (chicken supremes) or 4 boned chicken thighs

juice of 1 lemon

a few sprigs of fresh thyme or rosemary, leaves picked from their stems, washed, dried and finely chopped (about 1 tbsp)

2 tbsp olive oil

2–3 medium-sized sweet potatoes, peeled, washed and sliced lengthways into quarters

3 garlic cloves, peeled and crudely smashed

3 or 4 stems of fresh thyme, leaves picked from their stems, washed and dried

1 dried red chilli, crushed

200g purple sprouting broccoli

100g sour cream

2 fresh red chillies, cut in half lengthways, deseeded, stalk removed, then finely chopped

a few sprigs of fresh marjoram, leaves picked from their stems, washed and dried

sea salt and black pepper

Place each piece of chicken between two sheets of greaseproof paper and gently beat the meat until it has spread out to about cm thick. Put the chicken on a plate and squeeze half the lemon juice over. Scatter the tablespoon of thyme or rosemary leaves over the chicken, season with pepper and a drizzle of olive oil and leave to marinate for at least 1 hour.

Preheat the oven to 200ºC (180ºC fan) Gas 6. Put the sweet potato quarters into a bowl with the garlic, thyme leaves, a pinch of the dried chilli and enough olive oil to just coat the potatoes, then season with salt and pepper and toss together. Place in a baking dish and cook in the oven for 35–40 minutes, turning the sweet potatoes every now and again. They are ready when they offer no resistance to a knife tip and the outside is golden and slightly caramelised.

Put a pan of salted water on to boil for the broccoli. Prepare the broccoli by cutting off the thick stem at an angle, leaving 3–4cm still attached to the buds, then slice through the stem and buds lengthways. Leave any smaller, thinner stems intact, just remove the ends. The idea is that they should all cook at the same time and so should be of roughly the same thickness.

Salt the boiling water, then plunge the broccoli in and cook for 2–3 minutes until the stem is just tender when pierced with a knife. Drain in a colander, then return to the pan and pour a little olive oil over. Season with salt and pepper and keep it warm while you cook the chicken.

Heat the grill or griddle pan until smoking hot. Season the chicken with salt, place on the hot griddle or grill and leave to cook undisturbed for minutes or so, then turn and cook for a further 4–5 minutes until the flesh has cooked through. Remove from the heat, place on a board and leave to rest for a few minutes.

Slice the chicken at an angle into strips and serve with the sweet potato, broccoli and a spoonful of sour cream. We love chilli in our family, so I lightly scatter the chopped fresh chilli over the top with a few marjoram leaves and a squeeze of lemon. This makes all the difference.

BROAD BEAN SALAD

Young broad beans with their bright green pods are the first bean of spring. I know I will be cooking with them right through the summer, the beans swelling in size and fading in colour as the sun gets higher, the texture changing as the bean matures, becoming starchy and nuttier in flavour. But in late March, when they first appear (usually imported from Italy) with their tight young skins, small, young and fresh, they are sweet and crisp and provide relief after a winter of dried pulses.

FOR 4

750g fresh young broad beans in their pods, podded

1 tbsp olive oil

100g pancetta, cut into small cubes

1 garlic clove, peeled and sliced into slivers

2 dried red chillies, crushed

a few leaves of fresh mint, washed, dried and roughly chopped

3 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil

juice of ½ lemon

2 small round soft-leaf lettuce, leaves separated, washed and dried

200g feta cheese, roughly broken into pieces (barrel-aged feta is delicious if you can find it)

sea salt and black pepper

Blanch the broad beans in boiling, unsalted water for 3-4 minutes or until just cooked, depending on the size of the bean. Then drain.

Heat the olive oil in a frying pan and add the pancetta. As it starts to colour, add the garlic slivers and the crushed chillies. When the garlic turns golden, add the broad beans and mint and toss all the ingredients together.

To make a dressing, combine the extra-virgin olive oil with the juice of half a lemon in a small bowl, then season with a small amount of salt (both the pancetta and feta are salty) and pepper.