Kitchen Crumbs
Vignettes From an Ordinary Kitchen, Seasonal Recipe Recommendations, Cookbooks on Rotation
We end the year and start the next with lasagne. Made on New Year’s Eve (with a small glass of prosecco and a new year’s playlist), leftovers for New Year’s Day. I find making lasagne mediative, all the different components, layering them all together. It cannot be made in a rush, you have to settle in for a while, enjoy the steamed windows blurring the kitchen reflections illuminated against the dark night. The effort involved means it should either be created for a crowd or serve the two of you for more than one day. I always enjoy the feeling of knowing I have leftover lasagne for dinner tonight. It’s a good feeling to start the year with.
*
January can feel like the softness of a new notebook page. I like the possibility of it, thinking about all the life to be lived over the next twelve months. I also like the relief of it: December comes with a lot of mental load and it’s refreshing to wrap it up and then enter into a period of low pressure when it comes to socialising or making memories. I like being able to take it slow, tuck leftover Christmas chocolate into the pocket of my winter coat, make lots of hearty things that have the kitchen windows steaming up, use it as an opportunity to clear out and organise bits and bobs around the house. You have to be gentle with January though; she can throw a lot of winter bugs and grey days and we-have-been-cooped-up-with-the-kids-for-too-long-now moments at you. She’s not an easy one to love although every year I do try and give it a good shot. Usually via the kitchen.
*
I have spent far too much of my life thinking porridge is overhyped but also wanting to be on the hype because well, it’s such a good breakfast for setting you up for the day. It’s taken nearly thirty-four years, but I’ve finally found a method of making porridge that I like. You wouldn’t have thought combining oats and milk would require a lot of ‘method’ but it’s so easy to get it wrong. To have solid gloop instead of creamy goodness. It’s also so personal; everyone will have differing opinions of what makes the perfect porridge. Anyway, the method that finally clicked for me was Ella Risbridger’s (here if you have a paid subscription to her gorgeous Substack). In her book, Midnight Chicken, she calls it ‘glum day porridge’ and that has certainly felt apt as I’ve stood in the steam of my oats, stirring, stirring as the grey and the rain press against the kitchen windows. In my head, I’ve started calling it ‘worth-it porridge’ because it is a little time consuming at breakfast time (if you’re used to getting your breakfast in a couple of minutes that is) but the result of creamy deliciousness is so worth it. You toast the oats first, use a 1:3 oats milk ratio, stir with the wrong end of the spoon for approximately eight-ten minutes. I want it really creamy; I usually use Plenish almond milk but I will give a shout out to their organic oat one as a very good second contender because it doesn’t have that watery nature that can plague some oat milks. Little dollop of something yummy stirred through (peanut butter, chocolate & hazelnut spread, that jar of peanut butter, chocolate and salted caramel your friend got you for Christmas…), pile with seeds and fruit… delicious.
*
Rice pudding, thick and creamy, waiting in the slow cooker on a dark Friday night in January. Jewel-bright dollop of good-quality strawberry jam perched right in the centre of the bowl.
*
A handful of easy recipes that use in-season produce (these all involve pasta and noodles, and I make absolutely no apologies):
Leek carbonara – this has been on regular rotation in our house for years now. That garlic crumb makes the dish. The only tweak I make is to add 1 egg and 2 egg yolks, instead of 3 egg yolks – it makes the sauce a little looser which is my personal preference.
Sesame spiced swede noodles – spotted in Good Food magazine but also available on their app. Swede doesn’t feel like the most obvious accompaniment to noodles and crispy chilli oil but trust me, it works.
Vibrant green pasta. Absolutely chockablock with kale and spinach, this has been a frequent friend in our kitchen for months now. I’m never not impressed by how the simple ingredient list – garlic, lemon, salt – makes this so tasty. My fussy four-year-old happily eats it as well which is a huge win for me as trying to get vegetables into him is the bane of my life.
*
The baby is weaning. Slowly, very slowly, he’s showing more interest and enthusiasm for food. I’m trying not to impose my own stresses – the physical demands of exclusively breastfeeding a ten-month-old, my impending return to work – onto it. He’s got to do things in his own time. He keeps having allergic reactions to things though. The first required an ambulance and we have an appointment with an allergy clinic coming up, but since then he’s had three more. I am learning – fast – about how to read labels, about how allergens and the body work. What might fade, what could be for life. I want to avoid all allergens until we know more, I worry avoiding them could risk more allergies and I dislike the discomfort of sitting in the unknown. Watching him enthusiastically devour a naan bread is a joy, however.
*
I am half hot chocolate at this time of year. That feeling of coming in from the cold – into a café or through your own front door – and having a frothy, steaming mug of hot chocolate just cannot be beaten. The stuff is running through my veins and yet still does not get old.
*
I read something that says that a breastfeeding mother uses 30% of her energy intake to make breast milk which is more than she uses for her heart and her brain, and that breastfeeding can burn up to 700 calories a day, and I wonder whether that might be why I am constantly tired and always so fucking hungry. I think these went viral, but I found them in Ella Mill’s latest cookbook (see below): medjool dates, banana, peanut butter and chocolate freezer bites. Halve the dates and then squash down on a baking tray in a single layer. Layer over banana slices, then peanut butter and then melted dark chocolate. Freeze and slice. An optimal ‘feed me now, I am a milk slave for another human’ snack always waiting in the freezer.
*
Cookbooks on rotation in my kitchen right now:
Quick Wins – Ella Mills. This is a great book for weeknight plant-based meals. It’s not been on my shelf long but I’m defaulting to it a lot already. Everything is easy and efficient; I love that there’s often recipes that use up leftovers from the recipe on the previous page. I bought a copy for my mum for her birthday, and she says that the weekly meal plans at the back are great.
Bold Bean Co: Full of Beans – Amelia Christie-Miller. My sister bought me this for Christmas, and I’ve become a little obsessed with it and eating beans from jars. They taste so much better. Astonishingly so. You want to snack on them straight out the jar. Our weekly food budget has had to increase to accommodate the beans. This is one of those cookbooks that the moment you first flick through, you know it’s going to be well-used. Nearly every recipe is appealing. Would highly recommend if you want to get more beans in your life (they are very good for both us and the planet).
*
January ends and we breathe a sigh of relief. We tried our best but it has rained every day of the year so far and we are all desperate for some sun. I make these lemon crumble muffins to celebrate making it to February. The sharpness of the yellow curd, the bright yellow, is sunshine in a muffin.
*
A February birthday can sometimes feel a little uninspiring and yet every year, it comes along just when my mood desperately needs a boost. There is still no sun, and the grey is seeping into my mood. A reason to make a large cake, to celebrate being alive, gets me through the final slog of winter. Every year, I always think of making a cake I’ve never had before and every year I always make Nigella’s chocolate Guinness cake. It is probably my all-time favourite cake and also so easy to make. If you’ve never had it, you must. I insist! Pancake day usually quickly follows my birthday and that’s how I know we are nearing the end: when you are eating a lemon and sugar covered crepe, Spring is just round the corner. Hold on.
*
Thanks for reading. See you in the kitchen again soon.