Roasted butternut squash macaroni cheese

I probably shouldn’t be writing about macaroni cheese in April. With butternut squash, sage and

hazelnuts, this macaroni cheese is definitely a winter dish. Seeing as how the sky has been completely grey for weeks, I think it is ok, even if not legitimately macaroni-cheese weather. Ultimately, all that really matters is that it is completely delicious, perfect comfort food for any time of year.

Macaroni cheese is a special kind of dish. I have spoken to a few people and it seems that macaroni cheese is the one exception to aversions to processed food. When I had my first job and was spending all my money on rent and hair dye, I would sometimes buy Sainsburys Basics Macaroni Cheese for dinner (75p). Feel free to judge me, but at the time it was delicious. Of course homemade is much better, made in the oven not the microwave.

There is less cheese in this recipe than other macaroni cheeses, and also more vegetable, so I would like to think that is somewhat healthy, relatively speaking. The use of butternut squash also makes it pleasingly orange coloured. 

Serves 4

Ingredients

1 medium sized butternut squash – on the smallish side of ‘medium’. Peel and cut into roughly 2cm sized dice.

1 tbsp olive oil

Sea salt

250g pasta (approx). I actually never make macaroni cheese with macaroni - somehow it always has to be called macaroni cheese though, I guess that ‘conchiglione rigati cheese’ just doesn’t have the same ring to it. Make sure you choose a pasta type that has a hollowness, or other texture conducive to this kind of sauce.

For the sauce:

1 pint milk

50g butter

50g flour

Handful grated cheddar. Throw in a bit of crumbled blue stilton (or similar) if you have it

A few grinds of fresh nutmeg

¼ tsp English mustard

3 -4 sage leaves, chopped

Salt and freshly ground black pepper

For the topping:

Approx 1 ½ tbsp breadcrumbs

1 tbsp parmesan (or vegetarian equivalent)

1 tbsp toasted hazelnuts (I used the ready-chopped ones for this)

About 2-3 sage leaves, chopped

Method

Preheat the oven to 200 degrees. Arrange the squash cubes on a baking tray, toss with olive oil and sprinkle with salt. Roast for 30-45 minutes, until cooked through and caramelised in parts.

To make the sauce melt the butter in a saucepan, add the flour and stir to make a roux. Cook the roux for a minute or two, stirring continuously, to remove any ‘raw’ flour taste. Add the milk about half a ladle-full at a time, stirring continuously to prevent lumps and ensure everything is completely amalgamated.

Once all of the milk has been incorporated, add the nutmeg, sage, cheese, mustard and seasoning (taste to make sure it is seasoned properly). Then take about half of the roasted butternut squash cubes and mash or blend them into the sauce. I used a potato masher for this, which worked really well.

Cook the pasta for about 3 minutes less than packet instructions. Drain it and mix with the cheese-y squash sauce (use a bit of the pasta cooking water if it the sauce is too thick) and the remaining cubes of roasted squash in an oven-safe relatively deep dish. As I was using a ‘stuff-able’ pasta, I used a spoon to wedge some squash cubes into each pasta shell.

Mix together the topping ingredients and scatter them over the top of the macaroni cheese. Bake at approx 200 degrees for 20-30 minutes, until the bake is bubbling and the top is golden and crispy.

Comfort Food part 4: Creamy smoked mackerel spaghetti

I don't really know why, but for the past two weeks my energy levels have just completely disappeared, and I have been feeling a bit low and sorry for myself. I really am not asking for any sympathy - I'm not that kind of attention-seeker. Sometimes I just feel a bit rubbish, for no real reason in particular. You might be the same, you might not.

I know that smoked mackerel isn't particularly sustainable these days, but as a comforting treat once in a while I think it is ok. This sauce is creamy and not too rich, lightened up with lemon and capers. And it really is my favourite thing when I need a bit of comforting (except, maybe, for my Mum's chicken pie).

The sauce probably makes enough for 2 servings, scale up as needed

For the sauce:

1 peppered smoked mackerel fillet, flaked up (if you are vegetarian, or fancy an alternative, try this with courgette slices instead)

1/2 onion or 1 large shallot, diced quite fine

1 clove of garlic, crushed

Olive oil

1 dessert spoon capers, rinsed and roughly chopped if they are massive

A big splash (roughly 1/3 a small glass) of wine wine (or vermouth or something, I have actually used cooking sake for this before)

1 tbsp cream cheese (low fat is fine)

1 blob crème fraîche (optional)

Chopped parsley, fresh or frozen, but not dried

Lemon juice

Extra salt and black pepper if you like

Spaghetti, or any other pasta you like (I am going through a whole-wheat spaghetti phase)

1 cup frozen peas per serving - because you need some vegetables

Sauté the onions in a glug of olive oil on a low heat until translucent but not coloured, and then add the garlic. After a few more minutes add the capers and wine and turn up the heat and let it bubble. When the liquid has reduced by about half, add the cream cheese, and give it a swirl with a cooking spoon to melt. Add the crème fraîche too if using, and the mackerel and parsley, and turn the heat down to very low. Don't worry if it looks a bit solid, you will be adding more liquid later.

At this point put the water on for the pasta. Boil the pasta in plenty of salted water (I tend to do it for 1 minute less than packet instructions), and add the peas when you have about 1 and a half minutes of cooking time remaining. When the pasta is ready, just before you drain it add about half a ladle-full of the cooking water into the sauce, and stir - you may want to add a bit more liquid to get the sauce to the consistency you want it.

Add the drained pasta and peas to the sauce and stir everything well to coat. Add a squeeze of lemon and taste to see if you want more salt or pepper.

Whore’s spaghetti

Puttanesca, the ultimate, big-personality punchy pasta sauce.  Named for prostitutes, what’s not to love?

According to Wikipedia, it is a typical southern Italian dish, invented sometime in the mid 20^th century, probably in the Bay of Naples region. I think that the reason why it is so, pardon the pun, saucy, is that the dish is made of store-cupboard ingredients, and extremely quick to assemble, and so very convenient for a lady of the night, or perhaps anyone who is too busy having a good time to go to Sainsburys.  I am not convinced that said ladies actually ate this.  While pasta is a slow releasing carbohydrate and great for stamina, the strong and garlicky sauce probably doesn’t leave your breath that sexy…but maybe some people are in to that, who am I to judge?? And it probably did protect them from horny Italian vampires.  Yeah I really did just say that, clearly I have been watching far too much True Blood.

Difficulty 2/5 time 15-25 mins taste 4/5  serves 2

1 can chopped tomatoes

4-5 anchovy fillets

1-2 garlic cloves, chopped finely

1 dried, crumbled Birdseye chilli or a pinch of dried chilli flakes (you can shake some of the seeds or of the chilli)

big handful black olives, chopped a bit

handful capers

spaghetti

olive oil

parsley

in a large frying pan with a lid, fry the garlic in olive oil.  When starting to colour, add the anchovies and chilli.  When the anchovies start to disintegrate, add the chopped tomatoes, olives, capers and parsley.  Simmer for at least 10 mins, the sauce will get richer the longer you give it.  Cook the spaghetti in plenty of salted water (as salty as the Mediterranean) until al-dente.  A good trick for getting the perfect pasta is to cook it for 1 minute less than it says on the packet, and then add it to the hot sauce for the remaining minute, with a spoonful of the cooking water. 

Etiquette dictates that if onions are added to the sauce it is American, and it should not served with cheese.  If you want a cheesey element, try serving this as I did, with a salad of fresh spinach, oranges, pumpkin seeds and fresh mozzarella, drizzled with balsamic vinegar.

La Dame aux Camelias 1896 - Alphonse Mucha