Renghan Reveya: Aubergines stuffed with a peanut masala

In my previous post I mentioned my new Indian vegetarian (Gujarati) cookbook Prashad by Kaushy Patel, and this is my first attempt at one of its recipes. This aubergine dish is one of my favourite curries, and I have always been interested in learning how to make it. When I saw the beautiful stripy aubergines at Queens Park Farmers’ Market, I knew it had to be done. Of course once it is cooked you can’t tell that the aubergines ever looked like anything other than normal aubergines, but I just can’t help myself when it comes to buying interestingly coloured produce (I also bought a purple kohlrabi).

I didn’t have quite the right ingredients to make the exact recipe, so here is my attempt. Apologies for the lack of post-cooking photo, it was so unbelievably delicious that I got distracted. Seriously, it was just as good as the versions I have had in Indian restaurants, and I highly recommend it.

I had previously seen other versions of this curry that used desiccated coconut, so I thought that coconut oil would make a nice change instead of using regular oil. I have also reduced the amount of oil and sugar. The original recipe was onion and garlic free, using ¼ tsp asafoetida instead, but seeing as I didn’t have any, I thought I would use onion and garlic, especially as I didn’t have enough aubergines.

Serves 4 as part of a bigger meal with other dishes, or 2 hungry people with a little leftover if just served with rice and/or bread (I prefer chapattis to naan bread).

Ingredients:

150g peanuts, roughly chopped (you are supposed to use unroasted red-skinned peanuts, but I couldn’t get hold of any so I used roasted, salted ones. Apparently Sainsburys are having some sort of nut crisis).

15g Demerara/soft brown sugar or flaked jaggery

2 tbsp coriander seeds (or 3 tbsp ground coriander)

2 tsp turmeric

1 ¼ tsp salt (use less if you are using salted peanuts)

1 heaped tsp cumin seeds

½ can chopped tomatoes

4cm root ginger, peeled and roughly chopped

2 cloves garlic, squashed with the flat edge of a knife and roughly chopped

2-3 tsp mild chilli powder, or 1-2 tsp hot chilli powder

2 handfuls fresh coriander, chopped

100ml coconut oil (In the winter the oil with be solid, and I have found the best way to melt it so that you can measure it without wasting any, is to submerge the whole jar in a bowl of hot water for a few minutes)

Little aubergines – the original recipe called for 16 baby aubergines (aw babies), but I only had 5 slightly bigger ones. This wasn’t enough, so I would suggest using 16 babies if you can get them, or 8 teenagers.

1 medium sized onion – cut in half and sliced

Method:

Put the peanuts and coriander seeds in a mortar and pestle and grind until it is all broken down and resembles a coarse powder/crumbs (I use a really heavy stone one, and I definitely recommend getting one). 

Put the crumbs into a large bowl with the sugar, turmeric, salt, cumin seeds and tomato, mix together and leave to rest for a few minutes.

Crush the ginger and garlic in the mortar and pestle, and add it to the peanut spice mixture along with the chilli powder, chopped coriander and coconut oil. Stir it all up.

If you are using onions, heat oil in a large saucepan and put them on to fry on a medium-ish heat at this point. Stir from time to time, but allow them to colour.

Using a very sharp knife, carefully cut the aubergines into quarters lengthways, leaving a couple of centimetres at the stem so that they stay together. Gently open them out and use a teaspoon to fill them with the spice mixture, coating all four wedges of each aubergine, being careful not to split the aubergines apart. This is a really messy job, and the spice mixture will go everywhere, so it is probably best to hold the aubergines over the bowl of marinade.

Arrange the filled aubergines in the pan on top of the onions, and cover with any remaining spicy marinade – there should be a fair amount. Cover the pan and cook over a low heat for 5 minutes, and then add in 350ml boiling water – carefully around the edges so that it doesn’t wash the spice mixture out of the aubergines. Put the lid back on the pan and bring to the boil, reduce the heat and let the whole thing simmer for 25-30 minutes, until the aubergines are tender. If you are using slightly bigger ones, check the pot a few times to gently turn the aubergines.

If like me, you don’t have quite enough aubergines and a bit too much liquid, throw a handful of rice into the pot for the last 10 minutes of cooking time. The rice will cook in the delicious curry sauce, and absorb the excess liquid.

Kaushy Patel suggests that you let the dish rest off the heat for 20 minutes after it is done cooking, and then reheat before serving – to let the flavours infuse even more. I tried, but after about 5 minutes off the heat it smelt too good so I ate it straight away.

Wild garlic pesto

The Jewish food festival, Gefiltefest was 2 weeks ago and an absolutely fantastic day. As well as learning about the incredible organisations feeding the homeless and redistributing food here and abroad, hearing about what locusts taste like and gorging on zchug – I reconnected with one of my favourite old teachers and met one of my favourite food writers Marlena Spieler. Spending time with the cooks, food writers and food activists* has ignited my passion for food even more – so expect to be hearing much more from me in future.

An unexpected additional joy if the festival was the masses of wild garlic growing in the beautiful garden of the LJCC. Wild garlic is amazing, kind of like chives turned up to 11. And when you pick it, you can pretend like you are in an episode of River Cottage. It is actually much easier to find then you might think, and can also be bought in Farmers’ Markets if you don’t fancy foraging.

This pesto is really tasty but quite pungent so use it sparingly. I used rapeseed oil and no cheese to keep it a little more pure, but you could of course use extra virgin olive oil and cheese, or whatever else you fancy really.

Makes enough for 4-6 servings, depending on how much oil you use

Bunch of wild garlic leaves – if you are picking them yourself go for about a handful

1-2 tbsp rapeseed oil

1 tbsp pine nuts

A little salt to taste

Optional: hard parmesan-style cheese, grated.

Wash the wild garlic leaves to remove any bugs or badger wee.

Toast the pine nuts in a dry pan over a medium heat until golden and fragrant.

Blitz everything together using a food processor or immersion blender, adding oil until the pesto reaches your desired consistency.

Serving suggestion: emulating my aspirational Queens Park Farmers’ Market yummy mummy, I served the pesto with bulgur wheat, steamed sprouting broccoli and roasted salmon. Accompany with crisp white wine or posh apple juice, and complain about getting planning permission for your grade II listed house.

people have been asking & I feel I need to clarify - this is 2+ portions, I'm not that greedy!

*An easy way that you can get involved with food activism right now is to join the Enough Food for Everyone IF campaign’s London event in Hyde Park on Saturday 8^th June. World Jewish Relief have organised walking groups and kiddish from several local synagogues so that those who keep Shabbat can also attend  http://www.wjr.org.uk/news/shabbat-walk-for-change-june-8/  

Beetroot two-ways with goats cheese, honey and thyme

I bet that some of you have noticed the lack of an apostrophe in the ‘goats cheese’ in the title of this blog post. And I bet that it really annoyed some of you. That’s the funny thing about grammar and punctuation – they make people go crazy.

When I was writing this post I wasn’t sure where to put the apostrophe in ‘goats cheese’. Like any other normal person, I was pretty sure that I would find the answer easily on Google, and that would be the end of it. And then I could write another perfectly pleasant blog post about the many joys of my local Farmers’ Market. I had no idea that can of worms it would unleash. It seems that there is no consensus on the placement of the apostrophe: on the BBC website it is goat’s cheese and on UKTV Food it is goats’ cheese. On Twitter I asked Xanthe Clay and Felicity Cloake and they both said Goat’s Cheese, but I wasn’t convinced.

This is what happened on Facebook to my question of goat’s cheese or goats’ cheese?

           

- Goat cheese. Problem solved!

                 

- That may be good enough for Americans, but it isn't English!

- Capric cheese.


                 

- The Cheese of goats?


                 

- If the cheese belonged to the goat, then it would be goat's... If it was made from a goat but didn't belong to it, it would be goats'... Right????

                 

- if the single cheese was made from a single goat it would definitely be goat's cheese. Other than that I have no idea.

                 

- I'd go with goats' cheese as you can't guarantee its the cheese from a single goat


                 

- I'd say goats' cheese!

                 

- Not sure why but I find this thread really funny!

                 

- Depends, do you want to give it back to them?

                 

- I would have thought *goats cheese*. Have just looked in the fridge to find Goats milk yoghurt and Goat's Cheese. Maybe there isn't just one answer??

- Once had a long conversation with my in-laws in a restaurant over what the menu meant by "a small goat's cheese salad"


                 

- Goat's cheese. Cheese of the goat species. Or just be pretentious and say 'chèvre'.                 

                 

- The cheese doesn't belong to the goat. The milk did, so that would be goat's milk or goats' milk. Now it's turned into cheese, the goat in question is an adjective rather than a genitive noun. Therefore I would go with goat cheese or goats cheese but wouldn't put an apostrophe.

                 

- Neither, as the goat in question does not posses the cheese. It’s not spring's water or olive's oil, is it? Ergo, it is Goat Cheese.

I decided to go with goats cheese. If you disagree, please let me know. But to be honest, I would much rather talk about food than grammar. And I would much rather eat goats cheese then think about how to punctuate it.

Ingredients:

100g creamy goats cheese

2 beetroots – golden if you can get hold of them

Olive oil

Rocket leaves

Fresh spinach – or similar sweet, dark green leaf, like winter purslane

2 tsp. honey

3 sprigs fresh thyme, lemon thyme or a mixture

2 tsp. white wine or cider vinegar

Preheat the oven to 180c

Beetroot 1: Rinse the beetroot and scrub off any dirt, but don’t peel. Slice it into 4 or 6 wedges running lengthways. Drizzle lightly with oil and sprinkle with salt. Wrap the wedges loosely in foil and bake for about 40 minutes, until soft. Slice each of these wedges in half again once cooked. Keep warm until ready to serve.

Beetroot 2: Peel one of the beetroots and slice it as thinly as possible – use a mandolin if you have one. Make sure that your slices are going horizontally, so that you get a beautiful ring of colour in every slice. Put the slices in a bowl and toss with a little bit of oil, salt and pepper. Set aside.

Dressing: In a small bowl, mix the honey with a little bit of boiling water to loosen it, and add the thyme leaves to steep. When cool, mix in the vinegar.

Goats cheese: Depending on the consistency of the cheese, either crumble or cut into small squares.

Leaves: Wash in cold water and dry – use a salad spinner if you have one.

Assemble: Build salad in this order – Large flat plate, leaves, beetroot 2, goats cheese, beetroot 1, dressing.

Fried butterbeans with feta, sorrel and sumac

This recipe is adapted from ‘Plenty’, the excellent vegetarian book by Yotam Ottolenghi. Sorrel is a little like lemony spinach, and if you can’t get hold of it, just use spinach and add a little more lemon.

Sorrel is a traditional ingredient in some Eastern Jewish recipes, most notably a soup known as Schav. I thought this recipe was interesting in a fusion kind of way in that respect. I have never really liked butterbeans, but the recipe had sumac in it, and therefore was probably right up my street. And it was delicious - it turns out that I just don’t like butterbeans in cholent.

This salad was filling and fresh tasting. The creaminess of the butterbeans, with the lemon and salty feta was a really fantastic combination.

Serves 2

1 can butterbeans, drained and rinsed

Olive oil

3-4 spring onions, sliced lengthways into strips

1 garlic clove, crushed

100g sorrel, washed and cut into 2cm strips, with some reserved and sliced finely for garnish

1 tbsp lemon juice (add more or less depending on how much sorrel you have, or how lemony you like it)

50-80g feta, cubed/crumbled

2 tsp sumac

Handful chopped fresh parsley

salt and freshly ground black pepper

You will probably need to fry the beans in two batches.

Fry the beans in a little olive oil on a medium-high heat until golden brown and blistered.

When cooking the final batch, when the beans are almost done, add the spring onions, sorrel and garlic, and fry for about a minute.

Take the pan off the heat and mix together the beans from both batches, and season lightly with salt and pepper (remember that the feta you will add later is salty). Cool down to room temperature.

When cooled, drizzle over the lemon juice, and scatter with the feta, extra sorrel, parsley and sumac.

Some of the butterbeans will burst a little, but don't worry about it - its tasty!

Jerusalem Artichoke Gratin with Thyme

This is another recipe from Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall’s excellent vegetarian cookbook Veg Everyday! 515 five star reviews on Amazon can’t be wrong.

‘Sunday mornings’ are a relatively new concept to me (it used to be that they were slept through), and they are becoming my favourite thing. Every few months or so, I meet up with some friends very early on a Sunday morning and we walk down to Queens Park for an enormous breakfast and a visit to Queens Park Farmers' Market. The market is fantastic, a great source for interesting and excellent quality vegetables, artisan cheese and baked things, fresh fish and meat. Best of all though, is being able to talk to the suppliers about their produce.

The London Farmers’ Market website is great for telling you where you local market is. It handily tells you what is in season too. Currently it is Rhubarb, purple-sprouting broccoli, and Jerusalem artichokes. Have a look at their excellent SayNay campaign, in response to latest foodie scandals – urging people to eat traceable meat from trusted suppliers. While I haven’t bought any of the meat at the farmers' market as it isn’t kosher, the meat stalls always intrigue me – even I, of little experience with cooking meat could see how brilliant it looked.

At my most recent visit to Queens Park Farmers’ Market, I got a little carried away - I bought apple and pear juice, fresh goat’s cheese rolled in a lemon-pepper crumb, sorrel (recipe coming soon), and a big bag of Jerusalem Artichokes. I love Jerusalem artichokes – they can be pretty hard to find but as they are in season now all of the growers at the market seemed to have them. They taste like globe artichoke hearts but look more like a knobbly potato. I have had them before roasted (quite good) and in soups (totally amazing), but this time I wanted to try something different. And who can resist a gratin? This was really delicious, and very straightforward to make. To be honest, the only tricky thing is peeling the artichokes without hacking off too much of the vegetable. Be warned – this dish is incredibly rich, even after I omitted all of the butter. Whatever you do, and however much you want to, don’t have seconds, trust me – you will regret it.

You will need a large frying pan with a lid that can also go under the grill.

Serves 4

1 tbsp olive oil

1 large onion, sliced not too thin

500g Jerusalem artichokes, peeled and cut into roughly 3mm slices

About a handful of thyme – leaves only

100ml water

2-4 tbsp crème fraîche (depending on how rich/creamy you want it)

A handful of grated cheddar or other well-flavoured melting cheese, to sprinkle on the top

Salt and freshly ground black pepper

Heat the oil in a large frying pan over a medium heat, add the onion and lightly fry for about 10 minutes, until soft and beginning to colour.

Add the artichokes, thyme and the water, season and when it begins to bubble, cover the pan and turn the heat down low. Let the artichokes simmer for about 20 minutes until they are tender, stirring occasionally and adding a little more water if needed. [Pre-heat the grill when there is about five minutes left on this time]. Remove the lid and turn the heat up, simmering for a few minutes more if necessary to reduce the liquid to a thick glaze.

Taste the artichokes and adjust the seasoning if needed. Stir through the crème fraîche, scatter with cheese and grill for a few minutes until the gratin is bubbling. Luxury.

I served this with a filet of salmon, baked in a parcel of foil with some halved cherry tomatoes and few anchovy fillets draped over the top.