In my family, we take Easter seriously. This means that no less than 40 eggs are boiled and painted each year, while usually only 5 or 6 people take part in our Easter breakfast. The week after Easter the leftover eggs will seem to glare at you accusingly, daring you to eat them. However, after the egg-extravaganza of Easter Sunday, you’d rather…ehm…not.

In the past, it was my task to hide the eggs in the garden for my siblings to find. It took us a few years before we realised it was smarter to count the eggs before hiding them, because we never knew exactly when we were done with the hunt. Therefore, it was entirely possible to move a wheelbarrow in, say, November, and hear the telltale *splat* of an Easter egg falling down from its hiding place. This was followed by a manic scramble to get away from the offending object as soon as possible, because that egg would resemble a stink bomb very closely. Of course, the first year we did count the eggs beforehand, we ended up with one extra egg anyway, meaning we had to screen each one to see which one looked like it had spent a year in the garden, opposed to half an hour or so. Good times.

This year I decided to try my hand at a traditional crème brulée for dessert on Easter Sunday, to use eggs in a different incarnation. And it was a very good excuse to whip out my fancy crème brulée-torch. Seeing as I like to play with fire, it was a good day all around.

For 4 crème brulées, you’ll need:

• 1 vanilla pod, sliced open
• 200 ml. cream
• 200 ml full fat milk
• 4 egg yolks
• 80 grams of sugar
• white caster sugar, to sprinkle on top
• 4 ramekins

Preheat the oven to 125 degrees Celcius. 

Heat the cream and milk, together with the vanilla pod. When it is boiling, turn the heat low and simmer for 5 minutes. Meanwhile, beat the eggs with the sugar until it resembles a thick pale cream. Remove the vanilla pod from the milk and cream, and add the mixture together with the eggs and sugar. Beat until it thickens a little. Pour the resulting mixture in the ramekins. Place the ramekins in the oven and cook for about 45-50 minutes, until the mixture is fully set. Remove from oven and let them cool. Sprinkle the crème brulée with a generous layer of sugar, and turn on your torch. Burn the top layer until the sugar caramelizes (be careful not to scorch the layer) and turns brown. The sugar will form a hard crust on top, and it is very satisfying to tap that crust with your spoon! Serve immediately. If you don’t have a fancy torch, you can also place the ramekins under a very hot grill in the oven for a few minutes.

I often promise myself I will cut back on eating meat, and that I will start preparing vegetarian meals more often. But apart from some hummus-and-falafel-bingeing, my promises never get me far. After a while I can’t resist the delicious pork sausages, the perfect steak, and the superb lambchops I see at the butcher’s shop. Sigh. I do buy organic meat though, so at least I can feel as if I bought off my guilt, does that count for anything?

But I’m currently on a new vegetarian-streak, and this time I’m using The Cranks Bible by Nadine Abensur. This cookbook is just perfect: the recipes are delicious, she doesn’t just insert tofu everywhere in the hope people won’t notice the meat is missing (a lot of vegetarian cookbooks do that, why?), and she uses a lot of seasonal vegetables. One of the recipes which caught my eye a long time ago was the recipe for a mushroom Wellington, a play on the recipe for beef wrapped in pastry. But since the recipe begins with the ominous words: “There’s no way around this. Mushroom Wellington takes time and you need a good food processor, the blade of which still has some zip to it.”, I put it off for a long time. However, three weeks back I finally conquered my fear, I geared up my trusted Magimix, and I turned out two beautiful loaves!

So, without further ado, the recipe for mushroom Wellington:

(the recipe serves 12 to 16 people, so you can halve it to get less sizeable portions, but the loaves also freeze pretty well)

• 500 g. of puff pastry, defrosted
• 60 ml. sunflower oil
• 675 g. onions, chopped
• 4 garlic cloves, crushed
• 450 g. chestnut mushrooms, whole
• 2 tbsp. fresh tarragon
• 4 tbsp soy sauce
• 1 tbsp. Marsala wine (optional)
• 320 g. cashew nuts
• 175 g. fresh breadcrumbs (I used white, but wholemeal can also be used)
• 320 g. almonds
• salt and pepper
• 1 egg, beaten, for glazing

Preheat the oven to 220 degrees Celcius.

First of all, you’ll need to roll out the puff pastry into two rectangles of about 30×23 cm. I put the rectangles on some baking parchment to prevent it from sticking, and it makes it easier to transfer the final loaves onto a baking sheet. In the meantime, heat the sunflower oil in a large pan and fry the onion with the garlic for about 20-30 minutes, until they are a deep golden-brown colour. Don’t turn the heat too high or they will stick to the pan! Take the mixture out of the pan, and add the mushrooms to the pan with half of the tarragon. Now you’ll have to turn up the heat and cook the hell out of those mushrooms! After about 5-7 minutes, add the soy sauce and the Marsala (if you’re using it), and continue cooking. When the mushrooms are fully cooked, season them with salt and pepper. Use your food processor to crunch the cashew nuts and almonds, and then add the mushrooms (plus the liquid from the pan) to blend it to a very smooth purée. If it is not smooth enough, add a little water. Take this mixture from the bowl and then blend the onion mixture. Add everything together in a large bowl, and add the breadcrumbs and the remaining tarragon. Now comes the fun part: you can use your hand to mix everything together. The mixture should hold its shape when you form it with you hands.

Put the mixture on the pastry rectangles, shaping it with your hands to make a long rectangular shap about 28 cm long, 6 cm wide and 5 cm high. With a sharp knife, make diagonal cuts at a 45 degreea ngle, starting from the left-hand corner of the pastry to the mushroom mixture. Repeat on the other side. You’ll end up with a flap of pastry on the front and back of the loaf: fold this upward, and then fold in the strips on the left and right side one at a time, crossing them over. Do this for both loaves.  If you’ve made two, you can choose to freeze one at this stage, and glaze the other one with the beaten egg. Otherwise, glaze both of them. Put the loaves in the oven for about 35-45 minutes, and check them quite often, because they can cook faster than you expect.

As you can see here, I had some mixture left over and I turned it into some mini-loaves, which would be excellent for a dinner party! I took all the pictures with my iPhone (oooooh, fancy me), so that explains the quality….

Finally, I have to thank my partner in crime Anne, whose hands you see in the pictures. She’s truly excellent in shaping Mushroom Wellington!

The past few days everyone has been calling my attention to the fact that The Fat Duck actually had to close last week due to some customers falling ill after eating there. Thorough investigation of the kitchen yielded no evidence of anything amiss, so now newspapers are speculating about foul play. Well, I just wanted to let you all know that I had absolutely nothing to do with it! Seriously, I just hope the restaurant will be able to open soon without any negative consequences on business.

I was going to be mean and start this post with a whole description of the two days before I had dinner at the Hind’s Head and make you all crazy with anticipation, but I’m in a good mood so I won’t mess with you.

The dinner was in one word: un-freaking-believable. Or is that three words? Anyway, I’ll provide you with a detailed account of our fabulous evening at the Hind’s Head.

Getting to Bray from London wasn’t too difficult: we just boarded a train to Maidenhead from Paddington Station and took a taxi from there. All in all the journey took us about 50 minutes. We arrived far too early for our dinner (around 16.30), so Hester and I took a little stroll around the village. It’s really tiny, full of adorable little cottages and expensive cars, and a small church:

(Did I mention the weather was great that day? Oh yeah, sunny, and not very cold. The Gods were obviously with us)

The grand tour of Bray was finished in about 15 minutes, so we decided to go to the Hind’s Head early and have a pint of Real Ale. Aaaaah, real ale…

Inside,we presented ourselves to the bartender and announced we were the winners of the Menu for Hope-raffle. Unfortunately, she just gave us a blank stare and asked us what we wanted to drink. So much for making a spectacular entrance! We shuffled off with our pints and found a table near the window. The Hind’s Head interior is much like any other English pub: simple wooden furniture, some rowdy locals in a corner and not much light. The one thing that gave its gastro-pub status away were the pristine fluffy towels in the loo.

After Hester and I amused ourselves with our newly purchased books for a whil, a hostess came up to us and asked whether we were the girls who were supposed to meet Heston. Why yes, we are! We were led upstairs to a more private setting, and after about 5 minutes the great man himself made his entrance. By now we were both really nervous and I’m afraid I started babbling a bit, but Heston was very kind and indulged us. We talked for about 20 minutes about all kinds of (culinary) matters. He told us that one of his former sous-chefs, Francois Geurds, would be opening his very own restaurant, Ivy, in Rotterdam that night. For my Dutch readers, he was a guest at De Wereld Draait Door, and you can view the show here. Then Heston enthralled us with stories about Japan, where he ate Fugu-sperm (which apparently doesn’t have much taste), the time Dutch chef Jonnie Boer came to visit the Fat Duck, and why you would probably get shot in Italy if you tried molecular cooking over there (although there are some chefs who are willing to take a risk). He presented me with signed copies of three of his books: the two ‘In Search of Perfection‘-books and his book ‘Family Food‘. I was of course delighted, and I could even reciprocate: I had brought with me a copy of the Rijksmuseum Cookbook, which is about Dutch households in the 17th and 18th century. Something I was sure would fascinate him, seeing as he is a passionate researcher of British cooking at the time, and he could compare the Dutch and British cooking styles. Heston was a bit surprised I had brought him a present, but he seemed pleased enough with it.

Then it was time for Heston to go, and Hester and I were brought to a table in the main dining room of the pub.We could choose anything from the menu. It was very hard to choose because everything looked delicious, but this is what we settled on:

Karen: Pheasant and Bacon Terrine with Spiced Pear Chutney, Aberdeenshire Beef with Bone Marrow Sauce and Triple Cooked Chips, with a side dish of Braised Red Cabbage.

Hester: Raw Scotch Beef with Caper and Shallot Dressing, Sheperds Pie, Lamb Shoulder, Breast and Sweetbreads, with a side dish of Sugar Snap Peas.

Little did we know that before and after our entrées and main courses, we were presented with other dishes as well, such as: Pea & Ham Soup, Roast Onion Tart with Goats Cheese, Soused Herring with Beetroot and Horseradish, and  Scotch Quail Egg, Devils on Horseback (which are prunes stuffed with chutney and wrapped in bacon. Hmmm….bacon!). And after that, dessert. Which was a treacle tart for me, and something with banana and nuts for Hester. Accompanied by something called a Quivering Pudding, which was exactly what it was. I had lots of fun poking it and seeing it wobble. What can I say? I’m easily amused. It tasted a bit like porridge with cinnamon, and was absolutely delicous.

Some smaller impressions of the food:

(I can’t show you pictures of all the dishes because some of them were rather overexposed and others too blurry, but you get the gist of what we ate from these babies. I blame the bad photo’s on the amount of wine I had to drink with dinner)

Needless to say, we were completely stuffed at this point. It was time for a soothing cup of tea, which was promptly brought out together with… more food. Well, just two chocolate truffles to be exact, but it inspired me to take a picture of Hester which I entitled: “Just one tiny mint…”:

They practically had to roll us out the door. I felt more than a passing resemblance to Augustus Gloop, the fat little boy from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Which is not really a bad thing if you have eaten as well as we did that night.

The service was amazing as well. Our fun waitress kept congratulating us and telling us how well we were doing with the food. I think it was the first time I’ve actually witnessed Hester unable to put any more food in her mouth, and that was truly a sight to behold!

We took a taxi back to the Maidenhead station where we boarded a train back to London, and back in our hostel we just fell in our beds from exhaustion. But with great food memories which I’m going to treasure forever…

P.s Yes, I know there’s no picture of Heston and us together, but by the time I thought to ask he was already leaving and then it felt a bit awkward to whip out the camera, so I decided to let it go. But I think the above pictures are proof enough that I actually met him.

This upcoming weekend is going to be very exciting: I’m heading out to London to meet the one and only Heston Blumenthal. Yes, he of the Fat Duck and the brilliant BBC-series ‘In search of perfection’. Why do I get to meet him, you ask? Well, last year I participated in Chez Pim’s Menu For Hope raffle, where all kinds of fabulous prizes could be won. Such as this one:

“A unique historic British menu for two at the Hinds Head from Heston Blumenthal. Heston will meet the winner and present  autographed copies of all his three books. The more public side of Heston Blumenthal is the pre-eminent chef-scientist at the Michelin three-star restaurant The Fat Duck, while  the side lesser known is the passionate researcher and restorer of  historic British dishes.  The lucky winner of this prize (and a guest) will dine on a menu that is literally a representation of British cuisine from the 17th and 18th century.  Heston promise that they will be outstanding, and some of them will never have been tested before!”

At the time, I had rather limited funds and only bought two tickets for the raffle, but that was enough: I was picked as the lucky winner for this prize. Due to some scheduling conflicts it has taken longer than anticipated for us to plan this dinner, but this Saturday it is finally happening!

I have to admit that I’m rather nervous about meeting the big man himself, but I’m sure it’ll be so much fun. I’m bringing my roommate Hester as my compagnion, and we’ll go on a (cook)book-shopping spreebeforehand, so the weekend is bound to be a great one. I’ll make sure to take some pictures and post them here, together with a detailed account of my evening with Heston Blumenthal…

I love salads. However, since we are in the throes of winter, salads are not exactly the food my body is craving. Instead, it is calling out for stews, soups, pasta and other comfort food. By now I’m longing for summer, when I can eat lettuce, tomato and cucumber in abundance, without my body going into starvation mode (it takes its carbs very seriously in winter). Thankfully I’ve found a solution which tricks it into thinking it is getting the aforementioned comfort food, while it is in fact receiving lots and lots of veggies. Victory is mine! And scurvy is once again held at arm’s length. By using winter staple foods such as red cabbage, white cabbage and carrots, all available in abundance at the moment, you are even benefitting the environment and avoiding the waterlogged tomatoes that are currently for sale in the supermarket (which taste like…death. If death was a tomato, of course).

The orginal recipe comes from Kalyn’s Kitchen, but I tweaked it a bit to suit my preferences.

You’ll need (for one large meal salad, or a side salad which can be shared):

• About 100 grams of red cabbage, sliced thinly
• About 100 grams of white cabbage, sliced thinly
• A very large carrot, grated
• One (smoked) chicken breast (optional), diced
• 2 tablespoons peanut butter
• 2 tablespoons soy sauce (I use Kikkoman, since I could drink the stuff)
• half a teaspoon freshly minced garlic
• a squeeze of lemon juice
• A teaspoon of peanut/sunflower oil
• 75 grams of cashew nuts

Mix the red and white cabbage in a bowl, together with the grated carrot. Add the chicken breast and cashew nuts. Mix the peanut butter, soy sauce, lemon juice and oil together in a cup until it forms a smooth mixture. For some extra kick, add some red chili pepper to the dressing. I’m a big wuss, so I can’t stand too much heat, but you might. Pour the dressing over the salad, mix thoroughly, and enjoy! If you think this is not substantial enough, you can also add some bacon bits, which I may or may not have done last night. Please don’t tell anyone…

As George W. Bush was getting ready to depart from the White House, he decided to make one last effort to “stick it to the French” and he raised the tariff on Roquefort over 300 precent, making it virtually impossible for the French to sell their beloved blue-veined cheese in the United States. This means that the price of a kilo of Roquefort will increase from $40 to $130! And while I’m a certified cheese-addict, I think even I would balk at such an outrageous price. The U.S. is apparently at this moment the third largest importer of Roquefort, grossing an annual $8 million in sales, and seeing as the region of Roquefort is entirely dependent on its production of the cheese, this could mean a mayor blow to the village. The reasons behind Bush’s actions? Apparently it’s because the European Union has a ban on beef from hormone-treated animals. Also, the EU has not offered any scientific proof that hormone-treated beef poses a cancer-threat to consumers, and that is why the World Trade Organization has allowed the increased tariff on Roquefort in both America and Canada (because the ban violates trade rules, and that is why America and Canada can sanction it). Meanwhile, the French have stated that they will not be scared into loosening their restrictions on hormone-treated beef. And the Americans? Well, the cheese-lovers are looking pleadingly at their new president in hopes he will improve the French-American relations and eventually bring the price of Roquefort down to an acceptable level. Until then, they will have to either pay the steep price or make do with cheaper and inferior cheeses…

Ha! I knew there was a reason why I can’t keep my hands off the hummus: a recent study shows that women may be less able to control their food cravings than men. According to this Newsday article, this may also explain why women have  a higher rate of obesity. In the study, a group of volunteers were presented with their favorite type of food while their brains were being monitored, and then told they could not eat it. They then had to use a technique to curb their desire for the food, using a special ‘inhibation technique’. Apparantly, the men’s brain activity went down while using the technique, while brain of the women stayed stimulated.

Well, all I know is that when you present me with, for example, a bowl of hummus and then ask me to exercise self-restraint and refrain from eating it, I might end up killing you. Or drooling. Or both at the same time…

I used to hate fennel. Sure, all the kids in school were eating it, but I heard that if you tried it once you could never go back. Oh no, you’d just start craving more and more, and while the first time would be for free, eventually it would end up costing you a whole lot more. You’d stop wearing clean clothes, drop out of school and finally live on the streets, begging people for change just so you could buy another bulb. And I refused to go that way. But then even my morther joined in it! “Just try it,” she said, “you’ll love it!”. Yes, dear readers, my own mother tried to get me hooked on fennel. I tried to hold off a while longer, but eventually I caved from all the peer-pressure. And I have never looked back. Would it be shameful to admit that I’ve eaten fennel three times this week? I’m even planning to have some more tonight… I need help!

Kids, just say no! But if you’re already hooked as I am, there’s probably not much harm in trying the recipe below. Just make sure you get the good quality stuff, not the stuff that has been diluted with celery or something like it.  Trust me, you’ll notice the difference.

Fennel risotto with porcini & goat’s cheese

(Serves about 3-4 people)

First up, you’ll need to prepare the stock for the risotto. I use my trusted porcini stock cubes from Star:

but vegetable stock will work just as well. Make sure to use high quality stock cubes though, not the ones that seem to have been made only from salt.  A liter of stock should be ample. I soaked about 25 grams of dried porcini (also known as cèpes in France, and eekhoorntjesbrood in the Netherlands, which literally means “squirrels’ bread”. Oh yeah, the Dutch have some hilarious names for some of their foods…) in the boiling water, together with the stock cubes (I used two for a litre).

You’ll also need:

- 300 grams of risotto rice, preferably arborio

- 2 large bulbs of fennel, about 500-600 grams in all, chopped in small bits.

- 1 onion, finely chopped

- 100 grams of crumbled soft goat’s cheese

- some olive oil

- pepper to taste (I didn’t add any salt because the stock cubes were salty enough, but you can always choose to add more)

Now, first you heat up the oil in a large pan. Add the onion and fennel and fry them on a low heat for about 2-3 minutes. Now add the risotto rice and fry for 1 minute longer. Now comes the fun part: add a little bit of stock (about half a cup) to the pan. It will be soaked up by the rice. The point is to keep adding more stock as soon it has evaporated, stirring the risotto every once in a while. Keep the heat low, otherwice the rice will cook to quickly and taste like glue.  Risotto takes a while to prepare, but it’s well worth the effort and you can drink lots of wine while you’re in the kitchen! It’s a win-win situation. Anyway, after about 15-20 minutes the rice should be about cooked, and you should be through your stock/porcini. Just taste the rice to see if it’s done. It should have a slight bite, same as with properly cooked pasta.  If it’s nood done yet, just add some more stock and keep cooking. If you’re through your stock and it’s still not done, just add some more boiling water.

(don’t mind the dirty stove)

When you’re satisfied with the way the risotto tastes, add the goat’s cheese and mix it well with the risotto.  Add some pepper, and you’re done! I served my risotto with some lamb sausages, and it tasted quite excellent. Risotto is notoriously difficult to take pretty pictures of, so you’ll have to be content with this:

Gah, I’m starting to drool again. Guess I’m well and truly hooked!

Since I’m too lazy to offer you an actual post today, I’ll take the easy way out and present you with some links to other food bloggers who have been up to some pretty darn interesting things!

• First of all, young chef Aidan Brooks presents us with a picture of his brand new Global knife set, and explains what all the shiny knives are actually used for. Very handy if you want to know what to use a parisienne cutter for!
• Next up, Michelle of Thursday Night Smackdown eats chicken. With. 50. Cloves. Of. Garlic! Oh yeah, bring it on!And you probably want to stay out of my way when I’m inevitably going to make this, let’s say, tomorrow…
• Craving carbs? Deb of Smitten Kitchen shows us how to make light wheat bread, which takes up no time at all and looks delicious!
• If you’re looking to challenge yourself to the max in the kitchen, you might want to stop over at Alinea at Home, where Carol tries her hand at making smoked salmon with sour cream with dry ice.  Yes, the bar has just been raised…

I’ll be back later with a real post, just as soon as I have figured out what the recipe is goin to be…