Over the years since we have been married, V and I have been constantly expanding our culinary horizons and refining our palates. One of our favourite pastimes is watching cooking shows on TV and then adapting those to our tastes and diets. Last night, V proved that she is more of a candidate for Masterchef than I will ever be.

I have had a bad case of sinusitis over the past few days, and yesterday evening, around 6pm, I was feeling especially low. In no mood to even think about what I would want for dinner, I turned to V and said "tonight, you decide what's for dinner. Make anything you want to, but surprise me".

I could tell immediately that she loved the idea. Her eyes sparkled and she started running through the options. I told her that it was still early and that she had time to go to the shops, if there was anything she needed. I was being a bit cheeky here. Although I wouldn't have minded even some simple dal and rice, I was hoping that she would dig up something interesting from the myriad of recipe books we have or from the numerous shows that we keep seeing. The only challenge was that I knew that the fridge was pretty bare, so for anything even slightly different, a trip to the supermarket was essential.

At first she was reluctant to move out of the house. But as she started looking up some recipes she suddenly got up, got ready and grabbed the car keys. A quick peck on the cheek and I was left watching TV while she made a dash for the stores before they closed.

When she returned, I was forbidden from joining her in the kitchen and was told in no uncertain terms to stay where I was in the drawing room until called for.

Eventually, 90 long and starving minutes later I was summoned into the kitchen. I took one step into a room that looked like it had been hit by a hurricane and realised that this was no ordinary dinner. I could see starters on the table, poached pears on a plate in the corner and some sauce being stirred on the stove. I ran to fetch my camera as I knew this was definitely one for the books.

When I got back, I realised with stunned amazement that not only had she gone to the trouble of making a full 3-course meal, she was busy stuffing what looked to be ravioli. That she had made from scratch. By herself. I looked around and realised it was stuffed with some seafood, probably crab



Having popped the last ravioli to cook, she joined me at the table for the first course.

Starters: Seared scallops on a bed of fennel, accompanied with a soybean purée



The starters finished, we quickly moved on to the second course. The simmering sauce was poured over the ravioli and garnished.

Mains: Rustic crab and salmon ravioli in a creamy lemon and saffron sauce.



The pasta was lovely and soft. It was a bit thicker than the usual ravioli we get in restaurants, but keep in mind that it was rolled by hand. The flavours and textures were perfect. A nice strong hit of crab with smoked salmon, perfectly accompanied by the hints of saffron and lemon. Nothing overpowered the other ingredients and everything smelled and tasted great.

Finally on to the dessert. Marsala wine was whisked together with honey and poured over the poached pears. These had been poached in water with sugar, vanilla and cinnamon and they were soft and succulent and were now caramelising in a pan. The sauce bubbled away, giving a nice sticky glaze.



Dessert: Vanilla poached pears in a honey-marsala sauce with cream.



The evening had gone off far better than my wildest imaginings. I felt impressed by the skill and effort V had put in. I was a bit sad that she put all that effort alone, I would have loved to help her out in doing all this. It is so much more fun to do it together. But overall, I just loved the food, and loved the enthusiasm with which she had gone about the whole thing. An amazing evening to remember.

A quick and easy way to make fresh duck soup. We prefer to use a pressure cooker to get a fast stock going. This recipe works equally well with chicken. Just make sure you have pieces with bones as that gives a lovely flavour to the stock.


Ingredient set #1

• an inch of ginger (sliced into matchsticks),
• a squeeze of garlic puree
• one onion sliced
• 1/2" cinnamon stick
• 2 cloves
• 3 Sichuan peppercorns

In a small pressure cooker, a little oil, fry the above with some salt sprinkled on it, until the onions start to soften and turn translucent.

Ingredient set #2

• 2 Duck legs
• 1 - 2 red chillis, sliced (depending on how spicy you want it - remove seeds to reduce heat)
• handful of dried black cloud-ear mushrooms soaked in boiling water
• 2 medium carrots, thick slices
• squeeze of tomato puree
• 1/2 tsp chinese 5-spice powder
• dash of allspice powder
• pinch of crushed black pepper
• 1 tbsp shoaxing wine
• 1 tsp soy sauce

When the onions are translucent, add the tomato purée and cook for a further 30 sec, then put in the all the ingredients listed above (set #2). Add boiling water from the kettle, just enough to cover everything. Add some more salt, close the pressure cooker lid and let it alone on high heat for 4 whistles (~ 20 mins).

Ingredient set #3

• enoki mushrooms
• one pak choi, cut into half
• egg noodles or ramen
• dash of fish sauce
• dash of teriyaki sauce
• Squeeze of lemon juice

Open the pressure cooker and remove the duck legs. Shred the meat off the bones and return it to the cooker (get rid of the bones). Check salt and add more if required. Add the enoki mushrooms, the noodles and the sauces and some more water to bring it to the required consistency and let the soup simmer for a while until the noodles are cooked. For the last minute of simmer, just add the pak choi leaves.

Squeeze some lemon juice on top, and serve hot. As an additional garnish, you may sprinkle with sliced fresh spring onions.

Tonight for dinner, we had chinese-style duck breast fillets and vegetables with rice. I recently picked up a method of cooking duck breasts in the pan on medium heat without putting them in the oven and it has worked beautifully for me the couple of times that i have tried it. From entering the kitchen to clearing up the dinner table, the whole thing took the two of us just about an hour. And the food was really easy to cook and tasted delicious. V went so far as to say that this was the best duck we had ever cooked at home... to which I hastened to add '... so far!'.

So the menu was:

Duck breast fillets with chinese spices and a honey-orange sauce, on a bed of basmati rice, accompanied by stir-fried rainbow vegetables and mushrooms in a oyster-hoisin sauce.

For the duck:

Score the skin of the duck breast fillets in a criss-cross manner. Do it lightly, trying not to pierce through to the flesh. Sprinkle both sides of the fillets liberally with chinese five-spice, dried thyme and crushed sea-salt and rub the mixture vigourously into the fillets, including into the cuts in the skin.

Take a heavy-bottomed frying pan on medium heat, and put the fillets in skin-side down. There is no need for any oil, the duck will leave enough fat.

 You will be able to see the change in the texture and colour of the fillets as they cook. Once the skin begins to crisp and the colour change is visibly 2/3rd of the way up the fillets, it is time to turn them over.

For the sauce: In a bowl, combine 3 tsp of dark soya sauce, 2 tsp of honey, the juice of 3 small oranges and a dash of shoaxing rice wine and toasted sesame seed oil. Mix this well to ensure that the honey dissolves in the mixture and doesn't remain stuck to the bottom of the bowl.

Once the duck fillets are done, remove them from the pan and let them rest. Empty the duck fat from the pan and put the pan back on the heat. Pour in the sauce mixture, swirl it around the pan and let it simmer and reduce for a few minutes.

Slice up the duck breasts at an angle. Pour any resultant juices back into the pan and combine it with the honey-orange sauce. Then pour the sauce from the pan onto the sliced duck and serve.

For the chinese vegetables:

Any normal stir-fry vegetables will do. We usually use peppers, onions, carrots, mushrooms, mangetout and baby sweetcorns - all cut in to similar-sized slices. This time I had got a ready-chopped box from Waitrose and just added some shimeji mushrooms that were lying in the fridge.
 
Put a wok on to high heat. When it is nice and hot, take a few tsp of the duck fat from the other pan and toss in around a couple of inches of fresh ginger root, thinly julienned. After 10-20 sec add all the vegetables and mushrooms and sprinkle some salt. Toss the veg around until they start to soften ever so slightly. Add a dash of Shaoxing rice wine, a couple of tsp of dark soya sauce & hoisin sauce and a dash of oyster sauce. Mix the vegetables so that they are evenly covered in the sauce and remove from the heat. Sprinkle with fresh chopped spring onions and serve.

I've been hankering for a good pie for a few days now, so on the last trip to the supermarket, I stocked up on the essential ingredients; minced meat and shortcrust pastry. The recipe was researched and bookmarked. But when the time came to head on down to the kitchen and start off, I was hit by a rolling wave of inertia. So V turned around and said "if you don't want to make it, but really want to have pie for dinner tonight, I will make it". And she was off. Of course, when she got down to the cutting and chopping, I couldn't let her do it alone, so I got stuck in as well, and we ended up with a pretty good team effort as always.

We had decided to do a standard meat-and-potato pie, which is simple but delicious. To start, dice the basics: carrots, onions and potatoes. 



We improvised on the recipe, and put in some garlic. I think garlic gives such a wonderful flavour to any meat dish. Plus the aroma as it fries to a golden brown just gets you in the mood for some serious creativity in the kitchen. And it keeps the vampires away ;-)



Eventually, all the veggies ended up with the garlic in the pan, followed quickly by the mince. We usually use turkey mince. It is very lean and healthy and since it does not have too strong a taste of its own it takes on a lot of the flavours of the spices you add. I think it is perfect for dishes like pies, chilis and pastas. When we want to serve it indian-style, dry cooked with some peas, then we add some lamb mince for that richness and depth of flavour.



The recipe was very simple, and called for little in the name of spices, so we decided to get a bit creative. In no particular order, we added a teaspoon each of Worcestershire sauce & balsamic vinegar, some allspice powder, cayenne pepper, paprika and some italian mixed herbs along with a bay leaf and the usual salt and pepper.

As long as the meat isn't cooked, I can't taste it, which is a problem becasue I like to get the spices in early and let the ingredients absorb their flavours. So I tend to try and judge spice levels by smell. I keep tweaking the spices until the dish smells right to me. Happily, this approach usually works fine. This time, even the salt levels were perfect. 

The mince and veggies were cooked in the pan until the meat was nearly done. At the very end, I added in around a teaspoon of cornflour just to help bind the mixture together once it went into the pie dish. We have never made our own shortcrust pastry yet. Usually we get ready-rolled sheets, but this time we just got a packet of the dough. So as I kept stirring the filling to make sure it didn't burn or stick to the pan, V rolled out the pastry into our pie-dish. The delicious steaming pie-filling went into the dish, followed by another layer of the shortcrust. Since we had some left over, V got creative and laid down a nice latticework of extra pastry. As a last touch, the top was coated with a nice brush of beaten egg to give it that nice sheen as it baked.



The pie was poked in a few places with a fork (vents to let the steam escape) and popped into the oven at medium heat for 40 mins. As we waited for the pie to cook, we looked around for accompaniments. We didn't have any potatoes left, so mash was out. So we decided to do mushy peas, which I love. But no peas either... all that turned up from a dig through the pantry was a couple of cans of beans.



The beans were drained, rinsed and then boiled in some water with salt and a dash of chicken stock. Since they were canned beans, they didn't really take long to cook, I just wanted them to get some of the flavour of the salt and stock, rather than be plain and boring. Eventually they went into a jar, followed by a knob of butter, some milk (no cream at home either) and some english mustard and a dash of hot&sweet sauce. Whizzed by a hand-blender, the result was a pleasing bean mash that tasted just about right.

The pie was ready to take out of the oven. We judged that mainly by the nice colour that the crust took on, especially in the places where the egg coating had been applied.



So, finally plated up, a delicious dinner of meat & potato pie with two-bean mash. All that was missing was gravy. And the best part? We have leftovers, so I can have this tomorrow as well!

Today we cooked the best Rainbow Trout ever. Without question, the best we have ever cooked. Absolutely melt in the mouth, perfectly seasoned, steaming hot from the oven where it had been cooking in its own juices.

We started off with this amazingly fresh rainbow trout that V got from the fishmongers. We love the fish counter at our local Morrison's, they always have some lovely fresh fish on display that never fails to tempt. And today was no exception. I'd been drooling over a Parsi fish dish that's usually served at weddings, but when V told me she had got a whole fish, head and tail included, there was no other way to go.

The fish got lovingly massaged inside and out with a mixture of olive oil, crushed sea salt, black pepper, italian herbs, chilli flakes and crushed roasted garlic. We put some fresh basil (stems and all) into the cavity of the fish, and then sealed in two layers of aluminium foil. The whole package went into the oven at 200˚C for 25 mins (it was quite a big fish).



While the fish was cooking, we cooked up some farfalle, tossed them in sundried tomato pesto and threw in some chopped hojiblanca olives and topped with grated parmesan.



Finally it was time to take the fish out of the oven. A delicate aroma had been steadily drifting out of the oven and had us drooling heavily with anticipation. As we carefully opened the multiple layers of foil, we could see the steam rising from the soft, moist fish. It was gently manoeuvred onto a serving dish and topped off with all the juices from within the foil and a splash of freshly squeezed lemon.



I often use the word melt-in-the-mouth but this fish was beyond that. It was so soft and tender that it just lifted off the bones with a gentle caress of the fork. I was able to lift away the whole skeleton (and serve up perfect fillets drizzled in their own juices. This is one fish we will not be forgetting in a hurry.

My all-time favourite parsi delicacy is Patrani Macchi. The dish evokes memories of college days spent roaming around the South Bombay docks and the Ballard Pier area, eating in restaurants like Jimmy Boy and Brittania Café. So when I can get my hands on some fresh pomfret this is the first thing that springs to mind.

The dish is usually made with whole fish, but the fishmonger had sliced one up before we realised it. So we ended up with one whole pomfret and one cut up into the usual lovely boat shaped slices. The fish is liberally coated inside and outside with a green paste made of grated fresh coconut, coriander, mint and assorted spices.




Then it is lovingly wrapped in fresh banana leaves that are tied up to make tight parcels. These parcels are steamed to cook the fish and infuse it with the distinctive flavours of the marinade and the leaves themselves. 




The fish is served by opening up the steaming aromatic parcels at the table, accompanied with boiled white rice and simple plain dal.

It's a long story, but somehow we found ourselves in possession of a huge marrow fresh from someone's allotment, along with huge bundles of kai-lan and a section of pumpkin. The leaves ended up as a substitute for methi in a nice dish of methi chicken, and the pumpkin was cooked in proper north-indian style (slightly sweet, very savoury) and gobbled down with puris. But what to do with the marrow?

The first thing that comes to mind when I look at a marrow is Gromit's 'nearly-award-winning' one in the Curse of the Were-Rabbit.  Which is no help at all when trying to decide how to cook that monster. The one recipe that comes to mind is baked marrow stuffed with mince, topped with cheese. So I decided to do that, but with my own twist.

First, one half of the marrow, cut lengthways, seeds scooped out and sprinkled with olive oil, sea salt and pepper was popped into the oven to bake. Second, the base of any good stir-fry -chopped veggie goodness.



These got tossed in a hot wok, along with some sliced boneless chicken thighs.




By the time the chicken was done, the marrow was almost cooked. Time to assemble. The scooped out section of the marrow was filled to overflowing with the curried chicken, green peppers, mushrooms, onions and tomatoes.





A layer of grated cheddar studded with cherry tomato halves, and the whole thing was put back in to the oven for a further 5 minutes.




When the cheese was bubbling golden, the marrow was cooked tender all the way through and ready to serve.


  


Steaming hot out of the oven, the marrow was sliced up and served with a dollop of Mrs Balls Chutney. Simply delicious.





 

We've had roast joints of meat plenty of times, at home or at a friend's. But somehow I have never successfully roasted a hunk of meat in an oven before. I have had many successes with quail or chicken kebabs, but that's about it. Every time we have done a roast at home, my brother has been chief chef. 

So on Sunday, I found myself hovering in front of the butcher's counter at our local supermarket, pondering over the myriad cuts of meat on display. After weighing up various packets of boneless shoulders and legs, I spotted the butcher putting down a fresh chunk of leg of lamb on the bone. The weight was about right, enough to feed 2-3 hungry people. And so it was decided. And what's a Sunday roast without the spuds and veg, so headed off to the appropriate aisles to pick up the staples - baby potatoes, carrots, mushrooms and to be different, some elongated shallots (rather than the usual red onions). And of course the essential herb while cooking lamb - rosemary. I almost bought some mint, then remembered the overgrown patch of mint in the jungle that V calls our garden.

Preparation time was minimal. The joint was already tied up. I stabbed the meat in multiple places and stuffed the cuts with slices of garlic and sprigs of rosemary, making the whole thing finally end up looking like an anaemic green hedgehog. Dashes of oil and sprinklings of sea salt, and then into the oven for a good 2 hrs. The vegetables got similar treatment. Washed, cut into big chunks and then sprinkled with herbs, salt and pepper, they were left in a baking tin for a while before they got popped into the oven for the last 30 minutes while the lamb browned.

The end result was a most excellent hunk of lamb, crispy brown on the outside with a moist, tender centre that just melted in your mouth. Accompanied by the roast vegetables and a gravy made from the lamb drippings, it was a great way to spend Sunday afternoon!

We haven't tried making a new soup in a long time, even though we have 3 books of recipes and both of us enjoy a good bowl of soup. So the other day, I dug out the book Soup for all Occasions and hunted for a quick and simple one that would appeal to us. V loves watercress, and we just happen to have a packet of green soyabeans in the freezer, so this recipe just jumped out at me, begging to be made.

As usual, we started off with the basics, chopped garlic and onions. Spring onions this time.



When the onions had sweated down a bit, and had started becoming a pearly translucent, threw in a whole bunch of the green soyabeans, fresh out of the freezer.



Added some stock (we added chicken stock, but I guess veggie stock or even just plain water would do fine) and brought the mixture to a nice bubble. As soon as the beans were soft, in went a whole bunch of fresh watercress.



This was then brought to a boil and simmered for a few minutes. The result was a pleasing mixture of greens of different shades and textures, floating in a light broth.



Now this was almost good enough to eat as is. But only almost. We dug out the old hand-mixer and blended the soup right in the pan, ending up with a light-green thick soup, flecked with bits of dark green. Stirred in a couple of teaspoons of green pesto, and provided the finishing touches by adding some dry-roasted pine nuts.



Now to make meal of it, we pan-fried some sea bass fillets and toasted some ciabatta rolls.



And finally,the soup was served. Watercress, soyabean and pesto soup accompanied with Onion & Herb Ciabatta and herb-crusted sea bass.