Paola's Good ol' Chili con Carne

I recently wrote an article and recipe about chili con carne for the Dutch website Ze.nl. It happens to be one of my favorite cold-weather meals, so I thought I'd also share it here for those who can't read Dutch. But first let me tell you a little bit more about my chili...
I've pretty much tried all sorts of variations, some better than others. Perhaps the worst one was the version with tofu. As much as I enjoy eating vegetarian (light, clean, healthy, fresh!), this simply did not work. Chili con carne, like the name says, needs the carne, or meat! The tofu version was odd. Like a burger with only the bun. An all-bean variation was slightly better, but the fact that I only made it once or twice says enough. The opposite also applies to the all-beef chili. For me, it simply isn't chili con carne without the beans or the meat. I must have them both!
I also need spice and heat, but not too much. I want to taste the complex flavors without having to suck in air after every bite in a desperate attempt to cool my mouth. My chili must have a touch of sweetness to balance off the acidity of the tomatoes. That's why I add in a little rosemary sugar. In fact, almost all my tomato-based sauces get a little rosemary sugar for that same reason. And because my chili needs depth and richness, some cocoa powder always goes in towards the end of the cooking time. Don't worry. You'll barely notice it.
There many ways to serve chili. Perhaps you have some extra time and are in the mood to bake up a batch of corn muffins. They go exceptionally well with it. Rice, preferably yellow, is another option, as is a handful of good tortilla chips. The blue corn kind would be my choice. Of course, you can also choose to have your chili naked. No, not that kind of naked! Although...
Anyway you choose to serve it, make sure you top it with a good dollop of sour cream and perhaps a spoonful of salsa. Enjoy!

Paola's Good Ol' Chili Con Carne
Serves 4

2 tbsps mild olive oil
1 onion, diced
2 cloves of garlic, pressed
2 tsps whole coriander seeds
1 tsp fennel seeds
500g ground beef
1 bell pepper, deseeded and chopped
2 tsps ground cumin
2 tsps ground oregano
1 tsp smoked paprika powder
1/4- 1 tsp chili powder, depending on the heat of your chili powder and your taste
1/4 tsp cayenne pepper
500g pureed tomatoes
1 can of kidney beans, drained and rinsed
2 tsps rosemary sugar, or normal sugar
salt and pepper, to taste
1 tsp cocoa powder

Heat the olive oil and allow the onion and the garlic to gently sweat for about 5 minutes. Grind the coriander and fennel seeds in a pestle and mortar and add them to the onions and garlic. Allow to cook for a further 2 minutes. Turn up the heat a bit and add in your beef. Brown for 3-5 minutes. Add the chopped bell pepper, the ground cumin, oregano, smoked paprika powder, chili powder and cayenne pepper. Stir well. Add the tomato puree, the kidney beans, sugar and salt and pepper. Stir well and lower the heat. Leave the chili to cook in a covered pan for 45 minutes. Stir every now and then. Taste the chili to see if it needs more salt or pepper. Add in the cocoa powder and allow to cook for another 10 minutes. Serve and enjoy! PS: The chili always tastes better the next day!

Burgundian Style Guinea Fowl

I am becoming rather fond of poultry these days and for some reason, chicken just doesn't seem to be cutting it anymore. You could say it's the butcher's fault. Every time I pass by his stand, I am confronted with a wide variety of all kinds of beautiful birds in just about every size. From tiny quails to turkey legs that look like they belong on Fred Flintstone's plate! This awesome butcher also happens to get his organic birds from France so that's definitely reason to give him extra bonus points!
A few weeks ago, we bought two of the tastiest poussins ever from him. They were so tender and delightful and didn't need much more than some herbs and a few cloves of garlic. It felt extremely decadent to feast on a whole little bird and not have to debate about who gets the white meat or the dark. 
You can imagine my excitement when I caught a glimpse of an exquisite-looking, charming little guinea fowl this past Wednesday. It had a proud, rounded chest and creamy, taught flesh. I was in love! The only problem was how to cook it. Roast? Stuffed? Unstuffed? Braised? With cabbage? Mushrooms? Cream? A wine sauce? If only making that decision was as easy as having the butcher wrap it up for me to take home!
I decided to go the Burgundian route and prepared it with red wine, a little port for added 'oomph', some shallots, bacon and a couple of handfuls of chestnut mushrooms. This was definitely one of those meals that call for a bed of soft, billowy mashed potatoes with a good teaspoon of Dijon mustard stirred in. That goes without saying when we're dealing with food like this.
PS: If you've never cooked guinea fowl before, you're in for a treat. You can pretty much treat it as chicken as far as the preparation is concerened, but the taste is richer, gamier and when properly cooked, exceptionally tender. I think you could call it the chicken of the autumn because it simply adores apples, chestnuts and prunes!
Bon Appétit!


Burgundian Style Guinea Fowl
Serves 3

good knob of butter 
2 tsps grapeseed oil (I happen to have a gorgeous one from Burgundy!)
1 handsome guinea fowl, jointed
sea salt and plenty of freshly-ground pepper
100g lardons
4 shallots, chopped
2 fat cloves of garlic, pressed
300ml pinot noir
100ml port
150 ml water
few sprigs of rosemary, finely chopped
250g chestnut mushrooms, quartered
3 tbsps cream


Heat the butter and the oil and brown the pieces of guinea fowl over a medium-high fire, seasoning them well as you go. Do this is batches and do not crowd that pan! Transfer the browned pieces to a heavy-bottomed casserole. Lower the heat a bit, get rid of some of the remaining fat and cook the lardons, shallots and garlic for about 5 minutes. Start adding in the liquids bit by bit, stirring as you go. First the wine, then the port, then the water. Pour this sauce over the casserole with the guinea fowl, season with the chopped rosemary and a little more salt and pepper. Bring everything to a brief boil, reduce the heat, cover and allow to simmer for 40 minutes. Add the chestnut mushrooms and allow to cook for a further 8 minutes with the lid slightly ajar. Remove the guinea fowl from the sauce and add the cream. Let the sauce reduce slightly over a medium-high heat. Serve the guinea fowl with the sauce and some mustardy mashed potatoes and a fruity pinot noir.

Celebrate Life with Something Beautiful

Except for the odd pound cake, I'm not what you would call an avid cake baker. Especially when it comes to celebration cakes. The kind with multiple layers temptingly blanketed by sweet, creamy frosting and loaded with enough sugar and calories to make you forget life's troubles in an instant. It probably has something to do with the fact that those kind of cakes require a little more effort and that baking them 'just because' seems a little, well... frivolous. Hans gets a double-layer chocolate cake on his birthday and I'm happy to bake one as a present for a friend, but that's pretty much it.
I guess you could say that I'm the kind of person who likes to save the good stuff for 'special occasions'. The Limoges plates and my mother-in-law's fine linnen tablecloth for Christmas dinner, the antique German soup tureen and French silverware for entertaining, the classy jewelry and fancy shoes for business meetings. It's my attempt at keeping these treasured items intact, pristine and beautiful while simultaneously convincing myself that I'm getting the most out of them this way. If I don't have something every day, I'll enjoy it more when I do.
I more or less apply the same philosophy to baking pretty cakes. Fine for celebrations, but rather extravagant if it's without reason. While I'm aware that baking fancy cakes too often has its risks, I do think it's time for me to reconsider what I classify as a 'special occasion' and why one moment calls for a celebration more than the other.
Life is full of special moments. Sharing a glass of wine with my husband at the end of the day while we cook dinner. Waving goodbye to Kirstie when I drop her off at school in the morning and seeing her blowing air kisses my way. Opening a box of old photographs and remembering how rich our lives have been. These are moments of joy which are also worthy of a celebration. Perhaps it's time to start using the elegant silverware and baking more celebration cakes. Every occasion can be a special occasion when we celebrate it with something beautiful.

Celebration Cake
Serves 8

For the cake:
250g soft butter
250g self-raising flour
250g caster sugar
4 eggs
zest of 1 organic lemon
2 tbsps lemon juice

For the frosting:
70g butter
150g white chocolate
140g crème fraîche
200g powdered sugar
zest of 1 organic lemon

To make the cake:
Preheat the oven to 180C. Butter and flour two 22cm springform pans and line the bottoms with baking paper. Cream the butter and the sugar until light and pale. Add in the eggs one by one, with 1 tsp of the flour, while beating. Fold in the rest of the flour. Add the zest and lemon juice and stir to combine. Divide the batter between the two prepared cake pans ans bake for about 30 minutes or until a skewer inserted in the center comes out clean. Allow the cakes to cool completely before unmolding and frosting.
For the frosting:
Slowly melt the butter and the chocolate au bain marie. Allow to cool slightly before whisking in the crème fraîche. Follow with the sugar and the lemon zest and whisk again.
To assemble the cake, cut out four strips of baking paper and place them around the edges of your cake plate or cake stand. Place the first layer of the cake on top of the strips of paper. Spread 1/3 of the frosting on top of this first layer and sandwich with the second layer. Divide the rest of the frosting over the top and sides of the cake. Leave the cake in the refrigerator over night so that the flavors come together. This also makes it easier to cut the cake in neat, pretty slices. Enjoy and celebrate!

Old-Fashioned and Healthy

The other day I asked Kirstie if she wanted to take oatmeal cookies to school as a mid-morning snack. "No way", was her answer. Not because the cookies have oatmeal or because her friend once told her they looked like bird food, but because she was afraid the teacher might ridicule her and take them away. She pointed out that her teacher does not tolerate sweets or junk food as snacks in class. If it looks the part, in the wastebin it goes! I was kind of shocked and asked if this had happened before. Had the teacher mistaken one of my wholesome oatmeal cookies for sugar bombs and unmercifully left Kirstie without a snack? Fortunately, that wasn't the case. She had merely given the children a warning.
Of course I applaud the teacher's initiative to enforce healthy eating, but what is actually considered healthy these days and in this case, what does the teacher herself consider healthy? Are the children who get those shop-bought cookies flaunting words like "whole-grain" and "low sugar" on the package better off than Kirstie who gets the homemade kind? Granted, there is sugar in my cookies but absolutely no e-numbers or other mysterious ingredients.
A while ago, I worked in the language department of a Dutch high school where I got a front row seat at witnessing what teens were putting into their mouths. To put it mildly, I was appalled by what I saw. The norm was chips and energy drinks for lunch and candy bars with a coke as a snack. Those who were convinced they were eating healthy, were fuelling their growing bodies with everything but real food. Like the girls who ate crackers with diet cheese spread and washed them down with aspartame ladden soft drinks. When I pointed out that there was probably no cheese in their spread, but chemicals and that they were better off drinking water instead of their fancy drinks, they dismissed my argument as old-fashioned. But how could I blame them when they are part of an ultra modern society that has unfortunately, over the course of many years, lost all touch with food reality? We no longer know what the word healthy means. Scary, especially considering the fact that we're living in the days of teenage burnouts and ADHD. 
Leaving the obvious culprits like fast food aside, let me take a moment to tell you what I believe healthy eating really is and why I think we could all be a little more old-fashioned.
I believe in eating like our grandmothers did. If I don't recognize an ingredient as food, why should I treat it as such? I am not afraid of sugar, salt and fat because with moderation, there is no such thing as 'bad' food. I am also old-fashioned enough to believe in home cooking and in the importance of taking out time to teach our children about real food. We should show them how fruits and vegetables grow in our garden or maybe take them to a farm some time so that they could milk a cow, pick their own apples right from the tree or watch how milk is churned into butter. Healthy isn't defined by the words that some clever food manufacturer slaps on their packaging. Eating healthy means using common sense and daring to be old-fashioned. There's nothing wrong with homemade oatmeal cookies. They're very old-fashioned. And they're very good...


Old-Fashioned Oatmeal Cookies
Makes 24 real cookies

Ingredients:
100g soft butter
130g unrefined cane sugar
1 egg
2 tsps vanilla extract
60g all-purpose flour
pinch of salt
1/2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp ground cinnamon
150g oats
150f raisins
60g mixed nuts, chopped

Preheat the oven to 180C and line a baking sheet with baking paper. Beat the butter and the sugar in a large bowl. Lightly whisk the egg with the vanilla extract and add to the butter and sugar while continuing to beat. Sift the flour, salt, baking powder and cinnamon into the bowl. Add the oats, raisins and mixed nuts. Stir everything well with a wooden spoon. Wet your hands and use a tablespoon to scoop up the dough. Form it into little cookies, place on the baking sheet and flatten them out a little bit with the back of a fork. Bake the cookies for 10-15 minutes and allow them to cool completely on a rack so that they become nice and crunchy.

An Office Amidst An Inspiring Collection

I have recently set up office in the attic- a quiet space with big windows, plenty of light, little distractions and access to a good, sturdy chair. It's where I write, answer emails and make business plans. I decided it was time to make the move when it became evident that the living room, despite its great big table and close proximity to the kitchen (my lab and sanctuary), just wasn't cutting it anymore.
It was a good choice, especially because the attic is where I keep all my cookbooks, and for some reason, being around them, is proving to be a very inspiring journey down memory lane. There are times when I pull up a chair next to the bookcases, pick up a book I had forgotten about and suddenly remember why and where I bought it. It brings back good memories to open a book and find little notes, shopping lists or even stains left behind as proof of my kitchen adventures. If you asked me which of these cookbooks was my favorite, I'd probably have a very hard time giving you an answer because they're all very special. To me, they are so much more than just recipe collections bound with fancy covers. They are mementos of times and places in my life. I'd like to share a few random ones with you today and tell you why I love them so much.
The first one is a sweet, Dutch book I was lucky enough to find in an antique shop. Its title is Gastvrouw zijn is een kunst, which basically translates to "Being a Hostess is an Art". The book breathes vintage elegance with its fine, French-style pen drawings and black and white photos of artfully set tables, proper utensils and tableware. It discusses things like serving a good apéritif (different types of sherries, port, madeira, marsala and vermouth are discussed), planning ahead so that you actually have very little cooking to do when guests arrive (an ossobuco is recommended, served with a 1953 Châteauneuf-du-Pape), what kind of party to have when, choosing the right wines at the right temperatures and serving them in the right glasses and even making sure that as a hostess we look our best (the hairdresser should never be seen as a luxury but as a necessity).

I admit, the book is from 1960, but I remember having a good chuckle the first time I read it and realized just how old-fashioned I am when it comes to entertaining. Yes, I do serve six course dinners complete with matching wines and it goes without saying that I most certainly welcome my guests in my rather uncomfortable but oh-so pretty high heels!
The second book is just a little more modern and is one of the first books I bought after I came back from the Lot-et-Garonne the first time I visited and knew that I was destined to live there. Goose Fat and Garlic, Recipes from South-West France, is a temptingly written book by Jeanne Strang, who at the time of publication, had been living in the area for over forty years. It's one of those cookbooks that makes up for its lack of photographs with its beautiful, mouthwatering writing. After reading just a few pages, I  wanted to either run into the kitchen and cook or just hop in the car and drive south. Classic recipes that represent the rustic kitchen and culinary bounty of the region are brought to life with warm stories of local places and people. I absolutely adore the gutsy style of this kitchen and to me this book is proof that one can never have too much duck or truffles!

The next book is (not taking into consideration Mastering the Art of French Cooking), my gourmet bible. It was the first book I bought when I decided to trade a career in art research for one in food. I was fresh out of university and knew that food was my passion and that inspiring people to cook with love and taste with pleasure would become my career. Culinary Artistry has been praised by many chefs. It includes lists of foods and explains how flavors work together so that you can compose a perfectly harmonius meal. There are recipes, menus and lists of must-have ingredients shared by respected chefs. It's more than just inspiration, it's a handbook for creating magic!

Last but certainly not least, is The Complete Farmhouse Kitchen. The book is one of those extremely lovable, old-school cookery books with recipes for things like homemade sausages, pig's head brawn and old-fashioned spice bread. It reads like a comfy blanket and thick socks and the recipes, although somewhat dated, are still very suitable for the modern cook. The book was part of a cooking show which aired on Yorkshire Television in the early 70's. The recipes, more than 1000, were collected from all over the UK so you'll find recipes for traditional English food such as yorkshire pudding, cornish pasties and lemon curd.

These are just four special books I suddenly came across today. Just like them, there are so many more which have unfortunately been forgotten for longer than I intended and are now eagerly waiting to be rediscovered. I hope to share more of them with you in future posts. What a treat to be able to work amidst this wonderful collection!

A Perfect Meal For Two: Roast Poussins with Creamy Purée of Celeriac and Potato

Hans and I have always made a point of having a weekly date night. Just the two of us, a quiet dinner, candles, old French records and a nice bottle of wine. Although it's usually a simple affair without much real cooking, it's something we really look forward to. We love our steaks, but last week, for example, we enjoyed a wonderful omelette aux cèpes with grilled tomatoes, outdoors under the stars and next to the warmth of our fireplace. The food may have been simple, but everything else that surrounded it was the stuff good memories are made of. 
There are other times though when I really get into the kitchen to cook us something a little different. Perhaps something that requires a little more preparation and feels just a tad more special. Like yesterday, when we feasted on a comforting, soul-warming meal of tender roast poussins on top of a creamy purée of celeriac and potato.
I was fortunate enough to find two fat, little French poussins at the wonderful market held in Hilversum, not far from where I live. 

It's the same market where I found the stall selling wild mushrooms, so if you happen to be in the area, make sure you check it out on either Wednesday or Saturday. I stuffed the poussins with fresh herbs from the garden and a few bruised garlic cloves...

I then rubbed them with olive oil and sprinkled them with a spice mix I always have in the cupboard- a recipe from the wonderful book Joie de Vivre by Robert Arbor and Katherine Whiteside. The mash was made from one potato and a little more than half a large celeriac. It was a very tasty, earthier variation to simple mashed potatoes and very suitable for the dark, flavorful pan juices. This was exactly the kind of dish the chilly, windy evening called for. Perfect for the two of us but definitely suitable for the next time I invite people over for dinner.

Before I give you the recipe, here are the ingredients for the spice mix mentioned above. Store in a jar and rub it into your meat before cooking. It's especially good on pork and chicken.
4 tsps salt (I use fleur de sel) plus 2 tsps of each of the following: ground pepper, smoked or sweet paprika, herbes de Provence and tarragon.

Roast Poussins with Creamy Purée of Celeriac and Potato
Serves 2

2 fat, little poussins
4 bruised garlic cloves
small bunch of thyme, rosemary and 4 sage leaves
3 tsps spice mix
mild olive oil
150 ml dry white wine

1 large potato, peeled and chopped
a little more than half of a celeriac, peeled and chopped
1 1/2 tsp grainy mustard
75ml cream
good knob of butter

Stuff the little birds with the bruised garlic and herbs, rub them with oil and sprinkle each one with 1 1/2 tsp of the spice mix. Place them on a roasting tin and leave them in the fridge for at least three hours.
Preheat the oven to 190C. Roast the poussins for about one hour. Add in the wine about 20 minutes before the end of the cooking time, making sure you scrape up all the bits at the bottom of the roasting tin.
To make the mash, put your chopped potato and celeriac in a pan with salted water and boil for 20 minutes or until tender. Drain, add the mustard, cream and butter and mash.
Serve the poussins with the mash and drizzle with the dark, winey pan juices. A sprinkle of parsley would be nice too.

Fresh From Nature's Runway

While some women get excited when their favorite makeup brand or fashion designer releases the season's newest collection, I get excited when the season releases its own special collection- the culinary kind, that is. For me, the arrival of asparagus season in the early spring and the height of mushroom season in the autumn are at the top of my list of highly anticipated moments. The first glimpse of these beauties at the market is enough to make my heart jump with glee and have me beside myself with excitement. And really, I am not even exaggerating.
It happened last Saturday when I was suddenly face to face with a stall selling a mouthwatering variety of wild mushrooms. My thoughts went from omelettes to risottos to just simply sautéing them, and my impatience was evident when I found myself slightly annoyed at the lady in front of me who was taking her time ordering her produce. I wanted to nudge her away, grab a giant basket, take all the mushrooms and immediately run home to cook them. Greed, greed, greed! Fortunately, this is but a brief moment of culinary furor which quickly subsides once I'm at the table enjoying that very first meal. Last Saturday I feasted on an omelette with ceps, washed down with pink champagne, which I'm not sure is an adequate combination, but nonetheless, that evening I felt like I really had to celebrate.
One of my favorite wild mushrooms though are chanterelles. I love their bright orangy color which is reminiscent of the autumn's leaves. I love their fruity aroma and I swoon at their peppery, fragrantly spicy taste. They make such a winning combination with chicken and cream, but I also really enjoy them in a comforting risotto dotted with a little bacon and jazzed up with some parsley and parmesan. Today I am going to share one of my favorite wild mushroom risottos with you. Consider it my little gourmet present for you this autumn. Fresh from nature's runway...Bon appétit!

PS: Chanterelles may be a little difficult to clean, especially when it comes to their gill-like ridges. It may suffice to do this with a small brush, perhaps even a toothbrush, but should they be especially gritty, you can give them a very quick rinse under running water. Do make sure to thoroughly dry them off before cooking though, and don't laugh, but I do sometimes use a blow dryer for this purpose. Remember to trim off their woody ends. One more tip, chanterelles don't like to sit around waiting for you to decide what to make. They spoil quickly so it's best to use them on the day of purchase.


Risotto with Chanterelles, Cream and Bacon
Serves 4

2 knobs of butter
1 tbsp mild olive oil
350g fresh chanterelles, cleaned and chopped
2 fat cloves of garlic, finely sliced
50ml cream, plus 2 tbsps extra
100g cubed bacon
1 shallot, finely chopped
350g arborio rice
100ml dry white wine
1 1/2 liter of mushroom bouillon
sea salt and freshly-ground pepper, to taste
good handful of grated parmesan cheese
small handful of finely chopped parsley

First sauté your chanterelles. Melt a knob of butter in a large frying pan and add in your chanterelles. Cook them for about 10 minutes, stirring as you go. Halfway through the cooking time, add in one clove of chopped garlic. Season them once they are cooked and stir in the 50ml of cream.
In a small, dry frying pan, cook your bacon until it releases some of its oils but does not go completely crisp. Set aside and get on with the risotto.
Melt the other knob of butter and the oil in a large, heavy-bottomed pan, add in the other clove of garlic and your shallot. Gently sweat for a few minutes and then stir in the rice with some salt and pepper. Turn up the heat a little and add the wine, stirring it into the rice until it is absorbed. Start adding in the bouillon bit by bit, stirring it well into the rice and only adding more after the last bit has been absorbed. The cooking time will take about 20 minutes. After this, taste the risotto and should it not be to your liking, keep adding bouillon and cook it just a bit longer.
Once the rice is cooked, add in the 2 tbsps of cream and turn off the heat. Add the chanterelles, the bacon, the parmesan and the parsley. Stir well, cover and allow to rest for a minute or two. Serve and swoon!

Pumpkin Penne

When I first started to cook, recipes were holy to me and whatever the recipe writer stated was gospel. Adding in an extra teaspoon of salt was something I wouldn't have dared, let alone adding in something like a chilli pepper, or leaving it out for that matter. Back then, experimenting with flavors felt like trying to put together IKEA furniture without a manual. It was much safer to follow the instructions of the 'expert', so that's exactly what I did.
I still have fond, funny and sometimes even downright unpleasant memories about following recipes and teaching myself to cook. The better memories include watching Julia Child on PBS and making my first pasta primavera when I was 12. The unpleasant ones include a very expensive turkey disaster on Thanksgiving day and following a recipe for pumpkin pasta which looked great in the magazine, but instead tasted like one of those mushy baby food purees you start giving your kids when they move on to solids. 
If you asked me which was worse, the turkey that ended up in the gutter or that first disastrous pumpkin meal, I'd probaby choose the latter. I think it has something to do with the fact that I felt let down by the recipe, whereas with the turkey failure, I reckoned it was nobody's fault but my own.
Many novice cooks still make the same mistake as I did. Mainly, they allow their lack of experience get in the way of tuning into their taste intuition and instead, give all the blame to the recipe writer. That's something I had to come to terms with when I started writing recipes myself. I realised there would probably be those who would love what I created and those who would hate it.
Taste, whether it be for food or for cars, is a very personal thing. When you welcome someone to your table and serve them a special meal, it's normal to take into consideration what they enjoy and what they won't or can't eat. As a recipe writer, however, that's a whole different story. Recipes are works of art, those who create them are the artists and the most important tool to create them with is taste.
The other day as I was walking through the market, I suddenly remembered that infamous pumpkin pasta and decided that it was finally time to make peace with it. I wanted to make it again. No recipe this time, just my own personal taste. Here is what I came up with and as much as I enjoyed it, I can only hope that you will too...

Pumpkin Penne My Way
Serves 4

100g smoked lardons
knob of butter
1 tbsp mild olive oil
2 cloves of garlic, finely chopped
1 shallot, finely chopped
a small pumpkin (approximately 800g), peeled, deseeded and chopped into small chunks12 sage leaves, finely chopped
salt and plenty of freshly-cracked pepper
100ml dry white wine
300g cooked penne
good handful or two of grated parmesan cheese

Fry the lardons in a large, dry frying pan for about 2-3 minutes and transfer them to a bowl, leaving some of the oils still in the pan. Add the butter and olive oil and gently sweat the garlic and the shallots for about 3 minutes. Turn up the heat just a bit and add the pumpkin, sage, salt and plenty of cracked pepper. Give everything a good stir and add the wine. Cover the pan and cook until the pumpkin is tender (10-15 minutes). In the meantime, cook your penne according to package instructions. I do advise you to always subtract just a minute or too. Believe it or not, most of our pasta is actually overcooked! When the penne is ready, reserve a small glassful of the cooking water. Once the pumpkin is cooked, add the penne along with the reserved water, the lardons and the parmesan. Give everything a gentle stir and serve in warm bowls. You might want to put some extra parmesan on the table to grate in here and there.

Freshly Picked, Freshly Eaten, Freshly Baked

I remember when Hans and Kirstie used to go blackberry picking. We were still living in our old house and not far from us, were several, large blackberry bushes. When August rolled around, it suddenly seemed as though the whole neighborhood was taking advantage of this seasonal free-for-all. I would sometimes look out my window and see whole families armed with baskets, happily picking away. We were also able to get in on the action and after their picking trip, Hans and Kirstie came back with a few bowls of fresh, plump fruit. We had a lot of blackberries for desserts, jams and cakes. Unfortunately, when we moved, we had to leave the blackberry bush behind. I don't know what I found sadder, that or also having to leave the huge hazelnut tree we had in the garden.
As much as I love markets, nothing compares to picking your own produce. Whether it grows in the wild or right in your own garden. I sometimes wish I knew a little more about mushrooms and lived somewhere in Italy or France where I could head into the forest to score a basketful of wild mushrooms. Until that day arrives, I try to grow as much fruits, vegetables and herbs as I possibly can in my own small garden. When that doesn't yield enough, I head to a good, local market.
This Saturday, for example, I was lucky enough to find a stall selling a wonderful selection of mushrooms. Ceps, chanterelles, portobellos, shiitake's! They were the first of the season and I was as excited as a kid on Christmas. I treated myself to a small bag of ceps and cooked them in what I think is the most perfect way- a simple, buttery omelette topped with fresh parsley. And yesterday I happened to bump into the prettiest blackberries I had ever seen! Almost as pretty as the ones that grew by our house. They were quite dark, almost black, juicy and tasted sweet as honey. I stood there debating what to use them for and was suddenly inspired to make a simple tray cake to serve with our afternoon tea. I've always thought of the combination of sweet blackberries and tart apples as an autumn classic, so as far as I was concerned, the cake also had to include a Granny Smith apple. The recipe couldn't be easier and the taste couldn't be more seasonal. You'll especially love the crunchy topping courtesy of the light sprinkle of raw cane sugar.
Enjoy!

Blackberry and Apple Tray Cake
Serves 9

150g fresh blackberries
1 Granny Smith apple, cored, peeled and chopped
100g soft butter
130g raw cane sugar, plus 2 tbsps for sprinkling
1 tsp vanilla extract
2 eggs
100ml full fat yogurt
1 tsp baking powder
180g all-purpose flour

Butter and flour a square 20x20cm cake tin and preheat the oven to 180C.
Cream the butter and sugar with a standing or hand-held mixer until pale and creamy. Add in the vanilla and the eggs one by one while continuing to beat. Fold in the yogurt using a wooden spoon. In a bowl, combine the baking powder with the flour. Fold the dry ingredients into the wet. Put the apples and blackberries into the prepared cake tin and pour the batter on top of the fruit. Gently combine everything in the tin and sprinkle with he two tablespoons of sugar. Pop into the oven and bake for approximately 30 minutes or until a skewer inserted in the center comes out clean. Allow to cool slightly before cutting into 9 squares.

Cooking Good Prawns

I adore seafood. What's not to love about a golden, buttery piece of sole with lemon and parsley? A bowl of spaghetti alla vongole or a meal of moules-frites? And how about a well-prepared bouillabaisse with crunchy croutons and rouille? Not to mention the unprecedented joy one can experience when placed face to face with a plateau fruits de mer and a chilled bottle of Sancerre.
Many seafood dishes have the added bonus that they hardly require any time to make. Not taking into consideration the stuff that can be consumed raw, of course, cooking decent seafood calls for a good dose of common sense and a bit of skill. It's pretty much like cooking the perfect steak. Let's take salmon, for example- one of my favorite pieces of fish, and one which should be served moist, never cooked through. I recently had the misfortune of ordering pan-fried salmon with beurre blanc at a restaurant and ended up being sorely disappointed with what I got. So disappointed that I could've cried. Not because I had to send back the beurre blanc which tasted of spoiled milk, but because the second piece of fish (you read right) was also cooked to a dry, brick texture. Pure culinary barbarism.
Prawns, another favorite of mine, can also be easily overcooked. Depending on their size, I think anywhere from two to six minutes max should be enough. The point is for the prawns to retain their sweet taste and juicy flesh, not to make them tough and rubbery.
One of the nicest ways to cook prawns is with shallots, garlic, a good knob of butter and a shot of Pernod. Once done, I sprinkle them with plenty of fresh, chopped parsley and dill and serve them with thin slices of lemon, grilled tomatoes and good bread. You could, however, serve them over a bowl of cooked linguini. Prawns are very versatile and can handle a wide variety of seasonings. Just make sure you don't overcook them...

The Weekend of Cloudless Skies and Inspiring Books

Good things have happened this weekend and I am very excited to share some of them!
To begin with, we have been having glorious weather. Sun, sun, and more sun! In fact, I don't think I've seen a real cloud in the past week. I've actually had to pinch myself wondering if I was really in the Netherlands!
So what does one do when the sun comes to visit? Go outside as much as possible, of course! That meant lots of outdoor dinners, drinks by the harbor and coffee in the late morning sunshine. Now before you start complaining about the fact that I talk about the weather quite a lot on this blog, let me just defend myself by saying that I am Dutcher than I think! Here in the Netherlands, talking about the weather is something we're programmed to do. It's as normal as the air we breathe! Everyone is always talking about the weather!
But let me get on to the really good news...
This past Saturday, I had the pleasure of finally seeing the book I had collaborated on! Vis & Vega!*

This gorgeous book with rustic, earthy and incredibly enticing photos, includes a collection of deliciously inspiring vegetarian and fish recipes for the whole year. The recipes are not only a welcomed variation from the usual beef, pork and chicken, but they are also clear-cut and easy to follow. It's really one of those books that makes life very hard on you because you can't help but wonder which recipe to try first! My four recipes come from my own personal collection. You'll find them on page 86, 118, 123 and 153. I've included one of my favorite quiche recipes, a savory clafoutis, an asparagus tarte and a halloumi salad. So if your Dutch is any good, stop reading this right now and go order the book! Happy cooking!

*The book is only available in Dutch.