Smoked Haddock Paella (sort-of à la Slimming World)

I'd like to call it a tradition that I cook dinner while I'm off work but, over the last couple of years, Courtney and I have usually been doing something - like taking a holiday - which means there's actually not much of an opportunity to cook, and when I'm off work due to illness, cooking couldn't be further from my mind. This week - coming at a bad time for going away - has presented the first good opportunity (other than, y'know, every frickin' weekend) for me to get back into the kitchen and prepare some meals from scratch... But it didn't happen without a struggle. We'd talked about it a while back but, in the run-up to the week, Courtney became reluctant to pick meals for me to cook. I had previously become a little stressed during other stints in the kitchen and she felt that she wanted to spare me the upset.

Nevertheless, a handful of recipe suggestions were eventually teased out of her and, on the Wednesday, I tried my hand at an adaptation of a 'Syn-Free' Slimming World recipe for a vegetarian/vegan paella, with a bit of fish added because we happened to have it in the freezer, otherwise unused. There were a couple of other changes to the recipe, so I'll give this the full write-up...

Ingredients:

• Smoked Haddock (a couple of small fillets should be enough)
• Onion (one of a decent size is sufficient, to be sliced)
• Garlic (a couple of cloves, to be crushed)
• Peppers (one red, one yellow, to be sliced)
• Tomatoes (four, to be sliced - the original recipe specifies plum tomatoes, but I used the normal kind)
• Lemons (one to be juiced, one to be cut into wedges)
• Peas (200g, frozen)
• Artichoke Hearts (one 400g tin - equating to about 240g of artichoke when drained)
• Arborio Rice (largely because we couldn't find anything called 'Paella Rice', 350g)
• Paprika (2 teaspoons)
• Cumin (1 teaspoon)
• Turmeric (half teaspoon)
• Saffron (just a pinch, however one measures that...)
• Vegetable Stock Cubes (3 should be sufficient, to be dissolved in about a litre of water)
• Salt & Pepper (to taste) 
• Cooking Oil (to lubricate the wok in the initial stages)

Preparation Time: About an hour, less if you're better at slicing and chopping - or generally more organised - than I am

Tools Required:

• 1 Large Wok or Frying Pan
• 1 Saucepan (large enough to comfortably accommodate 1 litre of boiling water)
• 1 Kitchen Knife
• 1 Mandoline (because it makes slicing the onion far easier on the eyes)
• 1 Garlic Press
• Miscellaneous receptacles to contain the ingredients prior to adding to the wok
• 2 Stirring Implements (one for the wok, one for the stock)

The Process:
This is one of those recipes where it pays to prepare in advance. Before even firing up the hob, I cooked the two haddock fillets (thawed overnight in the fridge, then approximately 5 minutes in the microwave, breaking halfway to drain the excess water, and then removing the skin and flaking the fish at the end), mixed up the spices in a small bowl (since it's easier to mix in the paprika, cumin, turmeric and saffron evenly if they're already mixed up and ready to be dumped into the wok) and chopped up all the veg. While I would never say that I've got chopping things down to a fine art, I do find it easy enough to deseed and slice up things like peppers. Slicing things like onions has become far easier for me since we acquired a mandoline (the Chef'n Pull'n'Slice mandoline from Lakeland, specifically) but, even so, I had to cover over the onion slices once finished to avoid getting all weepy. The tomatoes were slightly more complicated to slice up because they also needed to be deseeded, and that's the gooiest portion of the tomato. On the upside, none of the slicing needs to be especially fine, and all I did with the artichoke hearts was drain them and halve them. I made a lot of extra washing up by using bowls and plates to store things once prepared, so I could simply line them up and add them into the wok as I progressed. The frozen peas were measured out, then stored in the fridge till needed. One of the lemons was juiced, while the other, which only needed cutting into wedges, was set aside.

I also dealt with the stock before the main part of the cooking, putting just over a litre of water into a saucepan, dropping in the three vegetable stock cubes and bringing it to the boil. Stirring occasionally to help the stock cubes break up, I then made a start on the main event.

The wok received a spraying of cooking oil before turning on the hob to a medium heat. As a side note, I'm slowly learning how to set temperature levels on the hob - high and low being obvious, but 'medium' sitting somewhere below the median - so just about every stage of this recipe proceeded as intended. First into the wok were the sliced onion and the crushed garlic, these being cooked gently - and kept on the move to prevent them sticking to the wok - till the onions started turning golden (a little over five minutes). I did splash a spoonful or two of the stock in early as I suspect I didn't spray in quite enough cooking oil.

Next up came the peppers, with the whole lot continuing to stir-fry for about another five minutes. The next stage starts out with a flurry of activity before settling down for a long simmer: the tomatoes, rice (added dry) and the spice mix go in next, along with a small amount - about a tablespoon or so - of the lemon juice and then stirred up. The final part of this stage is adding the stock and, since I wasn't quite sure of myself on this point, I ended up adding it gradually rather than all at once. I ended up not using all of it, as the extra was just a precaution, but very little was left over. This then needs to simmer down for around a quarter of an hour or so, to allow the rice to absorb water and cook. It's worth giving it all a stir once in a while, as I did find that my rice sank to - and then stuck to - the bottom of the wok.

The final stage starts by adding the frozen peas and chopped artichoke, then simmering for another ten minutes or so, leaving you with something resembling paella, rather than a chunky vegetable soup - you want it moist, but not waterlogged. The last thing to be added to the wok, preferably in the last couple of minutes before serving, is the flaked haddock. After that, it's simply a case of serving up, seasoning to taste, then chopping the remaining lemon into wedges to squeeze over the top.

The Results:
Given the time I'd put in to preparation before I started, I was pleased to find this all progressed very smoothly. Because my worktop space is fairly limited, I'd dotted bowls and plates around the available space, piling them up as I emptied them into the wok. My biggest concern was getting the hob temperature right for boiling off the excess water to ensure the correct texture/viscosity in the end result, but the only problem with the simmering stage was that I didn't keep the rice moving, so quite a bit ended up as a congealed, crispy mass at the bottom of the wok... but even that wasn't a complete disaster, as Courtney likes crispy congealed rice.

The original Slimming World version of this recipe suggests garnishing with shredded parsley, but that's not something we tend to have in stock as it's not something we use a great deal of - it seems like a huge waste to buy some only to tear up a small amount to sprinkle over something like this. I seasoned mine only very slightly - a little salt and a touch of pepper - as I wanted to try it with as little extra flavouring as possible. I was a little concerned, for example, that smoked haddock might have too strong a taste in its own right, but that turned out OK - blending in without losing its own flavour. While the tomato pretty much fell apart, becoming part of the sauce and leaving only the strips of skin, the other veg held together well, maintained some of their bite and kept their individual flavours to a degree. Adding a squeeze of lemon juice didn't do much, and I suspect a sprinkle of fresh parsley may have been a worthwhile addition after all. I'm not entirely sure what the difference is between 'paella rice' and the arborio rice I used, but I can't imagine the results would have been massively improved by using the 'correct' rice.

Aside from all the preparation work and small amount of waste due to the rice getting stuck to the bottom of the wok, this was a simple recipe that turned out very well and restored some of my kitchen confidence. The recipe in the book isn't exactly comprehensive, assuming a certain amount of experience, but I was able to read between the lines and keep things progressing, without getting stressed out by re-reading the same lines over and over, trying to discern what I might be missing.

This is, at heart, a vegetarian dish, so it would be perfectly acceptable in its unadulterated form, yet it could easily support other white fish, or perhaps a full-on meaty component... as long as it's not something too strongly flavoured in its own right.

The quantities specified are meant to serve four, but we both had fairly generous servings, and Courtney took the leftovers for today's lunch. She had it cold, and reported that it was still quite flavourful, though she felt a bit of extra salt and pepper would have improved it, and hadn't taken any with her. She also reckoned it had reached the consistency where it could be turned into rice balls or patties, so that's perhaps something to investigate further in future.

Snapped prior to the addition of a little salt and pepper...

Rouleaux Niçois/Cannelloni Niçoise-Style (à la Khoo)

Another of my little whims while on holiday around Easter was to leaf through Rachel Khoo's delightfully quirky recipe book, 'My Little French Kitchen' for something reasonably simple, but more complicated than the Croque Madame Muffins I tried last time (being almost four years ago now). I've actually tagged about a dozen things that I intend to try but, on this occasion, wanted something not too taxing, but still reasonably adventurous.

Since I quite like Italian food, but the closest I've ever come to actually cooking it from scratch is that staple of the single man's repertoire, Spag Bol (which isn't even really Italian), I thought I'd try this French take on an Italian dish. The recipe called for the purchase of fresh ingredients - even, for preference, fresh lasagne sheets - but, thankfully, didn't require an awful lot of chopping.

Back when I did those Croque Madame Muffins, I noted that the instructions in 'My Little French Kitchen' aren't always presented in the most logical - or strictly chronological - order and, yet again, I fell foul of this foible when working through this recipe. I did most of the prep work in advance, as I strive to do as often as possible, but there was a rather critical instruction regarding the lasagne that is placed as a footnote to the recipe, in smaller type, which I shall quote here:

Les petites astuces - tips if your lasagne sheets are a little dry, pop them in a bowl of boiling water for 30 seconds or so. When they are supple, drain them and pat dry with kitchen towel or a clean tea towel.

Now, considering that 'fresh lasagne' sheets, as bought from most supermarkets, are typically pretty dry, one would tend to think an instruction like that isn't merely one of 'the little tricks', but an integral part of the recipe, and should be inserted more prominently within the main text of the recipe... OK, sure, I remember being taught in High School that one should read through all instructions before commencing (and what a great laugh that lesson was)... but that exercise did not involve footnotes.

And I'm clearly less patient now than I was then.

Unbelievable, I know.

So, having peeled long ribbons of courgette and sliced the cooked peppers and artichoke (both from jars, and not as successfully drained as they could have been), it didn't occur to me to dunk the lasagne in hot water before staring to pile stuff onto them and, consequently, when I started to roll up my cannelloni, the lasagne sheets cracked quite spectacularly.

That wasn't the worst of my errors, though. When we went shopping, the punnet of cherry tomatoes we picked up was slightly short of the 500g specified on the recipe, the parsley we'd bought was soggy and browning slightly by the time I came to start cooking this, and I entirely forgot to spread the black olive tapenade onto the lasagne before adding the other stuff, so that ended up getting dumped into the tomato sauce.

While I wasn't far short of the 500g of cherry tomatoes, it seems I was sufficiently short to ensure there wasn't quite enough sauce to adequately douse the cannelloni so, once in the oven, the dish never reached the 'golden and bubbly' stage, because what little fluid there was seemed to boil off too quickly.

I also forgot to grate any lemon zest or add any lemon juice but, after all my many cock-ups, the end result was surprisingly edible. As learning experiences go, it wasn't half so annoying as my first attempt at that HelloFresh Peanut Satay thing, and I'm very keen to try thing again sometime soon with the right weight of cherry tomatoes (with perhaps a bit of added water, just in case), and remembering to spread the olive tapenade over some freshly-dunked fresh lasagne sheets. It was a remarkably simple and fun recipe, so it's a little frustrating to have ballsed it up so stupidly, but it proves I really need to get more practice in the kitchen...

...and read the bloody recipe more thoroughly.

This is the only dish of the three I cooked recently that I remembered to photograph, so enjoy...

"Green salad? We don't need no stinkin' green salad!"

Turkish Delight (made in Harrow)

Wherein I opine that, while certainly decadent, home-made Turkish Delight cannot be considered self-indulgent if it's a Mothers' Day gift.

Of course since I'm only writing it up today, it's a bit late for anyone else to try for Mothers' Day but, let's face it, if you haven't already sorted out your Mothers' Day gift, you're just a bad person.

So, here we are, buoyed by the success of home-made truffles (and conveniently ignoring the dismal failure of home-made cream soda) making Turkish Delight from scratch. Like truffles, it's a very simple recipe in terms of its ingredients. The process is a rather more complicated three-stage system, where two mixtures are made up separately, then mixed together. Also like truffles, it's one of those recipes that varies wildly wherever you go looking for it. There is a great tendency, these days, to go for convenience, and use gelatin... this, however, is not the favourite option because there are those who cannot or will not eat gelatin - those who have allergies and vegetarians will tend to steer well clear.

Thankfully, mine is going to be a more old-fashioned, allergen-free (I hope! Someone please tell me I'm ignoring any!) version that should be perfectly edible to one and all.

Apart from those strange people who don't like Turkish Delight. But, being fair, there is something a little sinister about a jelly-like confectionary that tastes like roses.

Nevertheless, let us begin...

Ingredients:

• 800g Granulated/Caster Sugar 
• 120g Cornflour
• 1 Teaspoon Cream of Tartar
• 1 Tablespoon Lemon Juice (Waitrose Cooks' Ingredients 'A Dash of Sicilian Lemon Juice')
• 2 Tablespoons Rosewater (Star Kay White's)
• Vegetable Oil
• Dusting: approx 360g Icing Sugar + 90g Cornflour

Preparation Time: About 30 minutes mixing, 1 hour simmering, plus cooling/setting time (overnight - 12+ hours)

Tools Required:

• 2 Medium/Large Saucepans
• Jam-makers' Thermometer
• Large Plastic/Wooden Spoon or Spatula (for stirring)
• 20cm Baking Pan
• Grease-Proof Paper
• Medium Mixing Bowl
• Long, Sharp Knife

The Process:
Pour approx 300ml water into a medium/large saucepan and add 1 tablespoon of lemon juice and approx 800g sugar. Yes, that's a lot of sugar. I actually made the mistake of thinking "wow, 300ml isn't a lot of water... I should be able to make do with a small saucepan for this part." By the time this mixture was bubbling away, my saucepan very nearly overfloweth. Let my folly be a warning to you, gentle reader, to ensure your saucepans are larger. Stir on a medium heat until the sugar has dissolved, then reduce to a low heat and allow to simmer for about 10-15 minutes, aiming to hit a tempertature of about 120C on your thermometer. Remove from heat and set aside.

In the second saucepan, heat approximately 700ml water, again on medium. mix together about 120g cornflour and a teaspoon of cream of tartar, then add to the water gradually, stirring all the while to avoid lumps. Keeps stirring as the mixture begins to boil, only stopping when the whole lot thickens and becomes gummy.

Add the previously-prepared lemony sugar-water mixture and stir in thoroughly for about 5 minutes. Turn the heat down to its lowest setting and allow to simmer for a full hour, stirring every so often.

While that's going, prepare your baking tin by pouring in a small amount of vegetable oil and spreading it around the inner surfaces. Line the tin with grease-proof paper, and oil that in the same way.

After an hour, the mixture should become a smooth, mostly transparent golden slime, possibly with a faintly lemon scent (or maybe that was my imagination). Take off the heat and thoroughly stir in 2 tablespoons of rosewater. Pour the mixture into the lined baking tin, and allow to cool before putting into the fridge overnight.

Mix together 4 parts icing sugar to 1 part cornflour in a bowl. When it's ready, tip the brick of Turkish Delight out onto a clean surface (might be worth dusting the surface slightly with the icing sugar/cornflour mix, or just put down a fresh layer of greaseproof paper). Lightly oil a sharp knife and cut the brick into even chunks. Shake them in the icing sugar/cornstarch mixture and set aside. Serve immediately or refrigerate with layers separated by greaseproof paper, and all the remaining sugar/cornflour mix dumped in to prevent sticking.

The Results:
I must confess that I sneakily tasted the mixture after pouring it out into the tin. It's extremely sticky, and even going at it with a spoon left a fair among of the slimy stuff in the saucepan, so my tasting was actually a measure to reduce wastage. Honest.

At this stage, while still slightly warm and sort-of liquid, the rosewater flavouring was quite subtle, much like the traditionally-made Turkish Delight you can sometimes pick up in the market that operates around London's Southbank area (close to the London Eye), rather than the over-sweetened, artificially-flavoured jelly that tends to appear in the high street shops.

Once set, it came out of the oiled grease-proof paper quite easily, but cutting it to size, even with an oiled knife, was very tricky. Whether there was something off about my mixture, or perhaps it should have remained in the fridge rather longer, I'm not sure... but I know it's supposed to be pretty sticky - which is why one coats it in the sugar/cornflour mixture - so maybe it was spot on.

The process of coating each piece didn't go very smoothly either. I couldn't quite tell if it was falling off or just soaking in to the surface of the sweet, but the power dusting seemed to fade after a few minutes. I tried re-coating a couple of pieces, but it wasn't particularly effective. The only way to keep them nice and dusted seems to be to make far more of the dusting that you need simply to coat them, and store the pieces in the dusting. Airtight containment shouldn't be an issue, because these things seem to sweat rather a lot and, as previously noted, proper Turkish Delight can be found in open-air markets.

Flavour-wise, they're still pretty subtle, but they definitely taste like Turkish Delight the rosewater is far more prominent than it was in slime-form. Perhaps it needed to 'breathe' for a while, but they turned out tasting just right (if I do say so myself). They do perhaps taste a little heavy on the sugar, so my next batch may cut down on that slightly...

The word from the folks was generally positive, though my father queried the lack of pink (believing the rosewater to be responsible for the 'usual' colour) and pointed out that I may have made a small error of judgement at the 'simmer for one hour' stage, because I put the lid on the saucepan. The point of simmering, he reckoned, is to boil away some of the water... and it seems likely that's why my Turkish Delight was sweating.