Showing posts with label parsley. Show all posts
Showing posts with label parsley. Show all posts

Thursday 1 June 2017

RECIPE | Pasta with chestnuts, mushrooms and a parsley pesto

pasta with chestnuts, mushrooms and a parsley pesto, paired with Veuve Clicquot's Extra Brut Extra Old

Here's a pasta recipe I think you might all want to try. Assuming you like mushrooms, that is. Fun fact: I really used to dislike mushrooms as a child; now they are one of my all time favourite ingredients. I always gravitate towards a mushroom dish when choosing from a menu, or mushrooms in my kitchen. Hooray for acquired tastes!


cooking up the feast - note that amazing
hunk of Parmigiano Reggiano
The nice folk over at champagne maison Veuve Clicquot challenged me to pair a dish with their latest bottle of bubbles, their Extra Brut Extra Old. This new cuvée is drawn from the maison’s famous collection of reserve wines, which is in fact one of the largest in Champagne. 

Whereas Veuve Clicquot's famous Yellow Label bottles are made up of 35-40% of reserve wines, 100% of Extra Brut Extra Old is made from reserve wines, from six different vintages –  1988, 1996, 2006, 2008 and 2010. All the wines have been aged for a minimum of three years in stainless-steel vats, then matured for at least a further three years in bottle in Veuve Clicquot’s cellars. 

The tasting notes go well with mushrooms and nuts, so I honed in on those two ingredients to make a very tasty pasta dish: linguine with chestnuts, mushrooms and a parsley pesto. It's in fact a much loved and used (by me) recipe from Delicious Magazine, and as I'd hoped, pairs fantastically well with the Extra Brut Extra Old bubbles.

You can find the recipe below if anyone fancies giving it a go; it's supremely easy, and a nice alternative to standard pesto. I bought those stellar mushrooms from Borough Market, but feel free to use chestnut mushrooms if they're easier to find. Please note from my pictures: the fabulously sweaty hunk of 36 month old Parmigiano Reggiano I brought back from Bologna and used with wild abandon in the pesto. Oh yes.

Pasta with chestnuts, mushrooms and a parsley pesto

Serves 4

stunning 'shrooms
from Borough Market
Ingredients
35g pack peeled and cooked chestnuts (I use Merchant Gourmet)
2 garlic cloves
4 tbsp chopped fresh flat leaf parsley
1 tsp lemon juice
125ml extra-virgin olive oil, plus extra for frying
20g Parmesan, finely grated, plus extra for serving
Large knob of butter
250g mushrooms, sliced
350g pasta (I used linguine)

In a food processor, blitz the chestnuts, garlic, parsley, lemon juice and some seasoning to a course paste. Slowly add the oil as it continues blitzing, then stir through the cheese.

Heat a splash of oil and a knob of butter in a frying pan over a medium-high heat. Add the mushrooms and fry for around five minutes until golden.

In the meantime, cook the pasta in a pan of boiling water until al dente. Drain and add to the pan the mushrooms are in, including a splash of the cooking water. Add the pesto to the pan too, and toss everything together whilst still on a low heat. Serve, and top with more Parmesan.

Tip: if you're enjoying this with Veuve Clicquot's Extra Brut Extra Old, I'd recommend keeping your champagne glasses in the freezer to frost up a little first, before pouring the bubbles. What a fab dinner - enjoy!

definitely had at least one cheeky glass while cooking this

Note: This is a sponsored post in partnership with Veuve Clicquot. It's been great fun and a pleasure to collaborate on - not to mention all the lovely bottles of bubbly they sent over. All views remain my own, as always.

Sunday 11 August 2013

menemen - turkish eggs with sumac yoghurt

Whenever I utter the name of this rather wonderful staple of the Turkish breakfast table, I inadvertently but consistently slip into spitting some old school 50 Cent lyrics into my air-microphone: 'Many men; many, many, many, many men Wish death upon me Lord I don't cry no more Don't look to the sky no more' A blast from the past that were my university days each time. I of course know no further lyrics to this ‘song’. Whatever did happen to Fiddy C anyway? I’m not entirely sure anyone cares. Questionable London clubs frequented in 2003 aside, menemen is a rather fabulous and different way to eat eggs with the addition of tomatoes and peppers. The traditional recipe sees the eggs scrambled, but I’ve left them unbroken and with dippy yolks for cascading and deep orange bread accompaniment. Mildy spiced and very hearty, this is a great example of the course of the day the Turks do so exceptionally well. Serve with chai and the best quality bread you can find and if it’s topped with sesame seeds, even better.


Menemen with sumac yoghurt

Serves two, or one very hungry person (i.e. me)

For the eggs
1 x green pepper, finely chopped
1 x large green chilli, finely chopped
2 x garlic cloves, grated
1/2tsp cumin seeds
300ml sieved tomatoes
Handful of spinach
2 x eggs
1 x lemon
Olive oil
Small bunch of fresh parsley

For the yoghurt
2 x heaped tbsp strained yoghurt
1/2 x garlic clove, grated
Generous pinch of sumac
Chilli flakes (optional)
Salt
Olive oil

Preheat the oven to 180C.

Pour a glug of olive oil into a saucepan and on a low-medium heat, gently fry the garlic and cumin seeds for a couple of minutes. Add the pepper and chilli and fry for a few more minutes until they are soft.

Add the sieved tomatoes and let bubble for a few minutes. Season with salt and pepper to taste and a squeeze of lemon juice. Turn off the heat, add your spinach leaves and stir until they're wilted in the sauce.

Pour this mixture into a shallow but wide oven proof dish. Create a couple of wells in the sauce for the eggs. Crack one egg into a cup then carefully pour it into one of the wells. Repeat with the second egg. Place in the oven until the whites become opaque but the yolk remains runny.

In the meantime create the yoghurt by combining all the ingredients and topping with a pinch of sumac and drizzle of olive oil.

When the eggs are ready, sprinkle with a little coarse sea salt, a few chilli flakes and some chopped parsley. Serve with toasted Turkish bread.

Afiyet olsun.

Sunday 28 April 2013

lahmacun - turkish street food


If you haven't visited Turkey, then you need to rectify that situation as soon as possible. And if I were to usher you towards any particular destination for your first visit, it would be Istanbul. Biased sentiments aside, it is one of the most stunning cities I have visited - glorious in its aesthetics and architecture; rich in cultural heritage intertwined with the modernities of the west; and with some of the best food you are ever going to get your chops around.


One staple of these and almost ubiquitous in its presence across the city is the humble but incredibly excellent lahmacun (pronounced la-mah-jun) - a Turkish flat bread topped with spiced minced lamb and diced peppers, layered with parsley and red onion, doused in lemon, rolled up into a taste bud torpedo and devoured. Mention this word to any Turk you may know and watch their eyes glaze over as they recall the wonderful simplicity and delicious flavour of one of the best loved Turkish street foods going.

If you happen to live in North London where a large Turkish community thrives, then lucky you. You'll be surrounded by excellent Turkish supermarkets and authentic restaurants, and you'll also be able to buy lahmacuns at about £2 a pop, so Matt tells me. He makes a beeline to the nearest vendor as soon as he steps out of Seven Sisters tube station when he's due to watch Spurs play at White Hart Lane, like a homing missile on a collision course - I can only imagine shoulder barging any obstacles in his way in the fervent frenzy that accompanies the anticipation of knowing you're about to eat one of these.

If you don't happen to be blessed with a lahmacun maker on your doorstep, then I strongly recommend you try making these at home. Once you've created your basic dough, the rest is as simple as deciding if you want go in for seconds or not. Obviously, you do.

Lahmacun

Makes 4 portions

For the flat breads
350g plain flour, plus extra for dusting
1 tsp salt
2 tsp easy-blend yeast
250ml warm water
2 tbsp extra virgin olive oil

For the topping
500g lean lamb mince
2 x green peppers, seeds removed
2 x red peppers, seeds removed
2 x garlic cloves
4 x tbsp tomato puree
1/2 red onion, finely sliced
2 x tbsp sumac, plus extra for sprinkling
2 x tbsp smoked hot paprika (or pimenton), plus extra for sprinkling
Dried chilli flakes
Large bunch of flat leaf parsley
Salt and pepper
Strained yoghurt (optional)

Sieve your flour into a bowl. On one side add the salt, on the other side add the yeast. Make a well in the centre and pour in the olive oil. Pour in the warm water and combine with your hand until it comes together.

On a floured surface, knead the dough until it no longer sticks to your hands or the surface and is smooth and elastic - about 10-15 minutes. Shape into a ball then cup your hands around the dough with your little fingers against the table, and drag the dough to pull the skin taught. Place in a lightly oiled bowl, cover with cling film and keep in a warm place until it has doubled in size.

While waiting for your dough to rise, you can prepare your topping. Brown the lamb mince in a pan and then drain most of the fat off - leave a little left. Remove the lamb from the pan and set aside. 

Finely dice your peppers and garlic (if you have a food processor use this as it gets them nice and small). Tip the contents onto a clean tea towel, then twist and squeeze as much of the moisture out as you can. Put the peppers and garlic into the pan and sweat in the remaining lamb fat until soft.

Add the lamb back to the pan and add the sumac, paprika and tomato purée.  Season with salt and pepper to taste and cook on a medium heat for about 10 minutes. Take off the heat and stir in half of the chopped parsley.

Pre-heat your oven to 180C and if you have a pizza stone, place it in there so it heats up with the oven.

Tip A pizza stone transfers heat to flat bread very well in the oven. But don't worry if you don't have one, you can just place your bread on some non-stick baking paper on an oven tray.

When your dough has at least doubled in size, tip it out of the bowl onto a lightly floured surface and fold in half a few times to knock the air out. Divide into four and roll one out into an oval or rectangle, relatively thin but not too thin. Place on a hot pizza stone (or hot oven tray) and partly cook for a few minutes so that it's not raw, but hasn't got any colour yet. While one is cooking, roll out the next piece of dough and continue until all four are partially cooked. If you want to save some bread and topping for the following day, wrap the partially cooked bread in some foil and keep the mince in the fridge. Then just continue with the steps below when you're ready to eat them again.
Raise your oven temperature to 200C. Now take each piece of bread you plan to eat in this sitting, and cover the surface with the mince topping - be sure to push the meat right into the dough with the back of a spoon.  Cook the topped bread in the oven until golden. 

Place a generous amount of parsley and red onion down the centre of your lahmacun, and douse with a load of lemon. Finish off with a sprinkling of paprika and chilli flakes, and you can add a few dollops of strained yoghurt if you fancy it. Roll the bread up, eat it, and then come back on here and thank me for introducing you to this wonderful food.


If you fancy watching one being made by a reputable chef and see just how easy it is, there's a YouTube video of Rick Stein rustling one up from his Mediterranean series a while back. The recipe is similar with the same main components. I'm glad he felt it a dish worthy of his show. I'm also glad that he acknowledges 'If I was 20 years younger, I'd open up a chain of lahmacun restaurants around the country - these would sell so well'. It is the perfect fast food. Maybe there's a business opportunity there - anyone want to go in with me?

Afiyet olsun.

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