Tag Archives: fall fest 2010

Why I love cabbage soup

It’s evening. It’s winter. You’re tired and cold after a drudging day at work and just want something simple, hearty and healthy for your supper. If I was in your shoes, I’d be thinking about cabbage soup. No, it’s not the most sexy sounding dish. Yes, Roald Dahl used it to represent the bland diet of Charlie Bucket and his frugal family in Charlie & the Chocolate Family. But for me there’s something innately healing about this uncomplicated – and surprisingly tasty – meal. And if I like to imagine myself as a noble 16th century farm worker as I eat it, well, that’s my business.

For a healthy-sized batch of around 4 servings, all you need is a chopped onion, 3 sliced cloves of garlic, 3 peeled and chopped potatoes, a couple of bay leaves, about half a chopped medium-sized cabbage (a Savoy would do nicely) and some cheese – preferably parmesan, but cheddar would work. Heat some oil in a large saucepan, add the onion and let it soften. Add the garlic after 5 minutes and then the potato when it’s all nice and soft, stirring it all together for a couple of minutes. Pour in 1 litre of water, add the bay leaves and season. Once the potatoes are falling apart, use a wooden spoon to crush them into small pieces – the soup will go cloudy. Keep a few chunks of potato here and there. Throw in the cabbage and let it all cook together for around 5 minutes. Ladle it into heavy bowls and grate on loads of parmesan.

Ah, cabbage. It’s a world of potential. For 417 other recipe ideas from Food Network, just click here.

By M. Cosworth

More cabbage fun from across the pond

Return to your roots

Turnip, radish, yam, mangelwurzel: there is something about root vegetables that makes people give them the silliest possible names. It’s especially strange as these foods don’t exactly say ‘fun’ in any other way – it’s rare to see children dragging their parents over to a brightly coloured breadroot and turnip van. With their mutant underground shapes – so dark and whiskery – root vegetables are in fact a bit terrifying. I think we name them daftly to comfort ourselves.

In the wild and in the kitchen, root vegetables are great for storage: a plant stores its energy here, and traditionally so do we as we move into the colder months of the year when less fresh produce is arriving and we crave warming carb-heavy meals. Parsnips, turnips and carrots can be roasted in butter to create the perfect cold-weather dish of this kind – see Tyler Florence’s method here. Or you can go to town with a rootsy soup, such as this one with onion, carrot, celeriac, turnip, potato and Jerusalem artichoke – the closest thing a food can get to being a combined hat, scarf and pair of earmuffs.

But here’s a challenge. The next decent vegetable section you are in, make a point of buying the strangest looking, most unfamiliar root you can find. The tiny, impossibly nobbly one in the corner by the parsley or the ball-shaped, slightly golden one under the shallots. Buy it, look it up, experiment. Let’s share notes here.

By M. Cosworth

More root vegetable fun from across the pond

Pear necessities

“They’re gorgeous little beasts, but they’re ripe for half an hour, and you’re never there… they’re like a rock or they’re mush”

Wise words from a certain Mr Eddie Izzard, the pear is oft the butt of many an innuendo – “my what a lovely pear you have” – and so forth.  But no matter, the wonder-fruit can take all of your jokes, safe in the knowledge that it tastes superb and, unlike many of its fruity counterparts, goes equally well with chocolate as it does blue cheese.

Now is the time of year to re-acquaint yourselves with this pomaceous fruit as it dangles into season on both sides of the Atlantic.  But do watch those air miles and opt for native varieties – in the UK alone half of our pear orchards have been destroyed in the past 30 years, which is a devastating fact for a country with such a long pear love affair.

So it is to the pear I pen this love letter, an ode to some of the best varieties available, wherever you are in the world.

Conference
Conference is at the top simply because it’s my all-time favourite.  It’s a no-nonsense sort of pear, good and solid, of 19th century English origin.  Best kept simple in a lunchbox, but you could try barbecuing it too…

Williams
Better known as the Bartlett in the US and Canada, the Williams is a classic English 18th century specimen, popular in desserts due to its sweet ‘pear drop’ flavour.  If you really need to eat a tinned pear, Williams is likely what you will be eating.  Lovely paired (geddit?!) with cinnamon.

Comice
Of French origin the Doyenne du Comice means “top of the show,” as they are often considered the best pear variety.  A sweet, creamy fruit with a juicy and buttery texture, and a pale green/brown colour which lightens when approaching full ripeness.  Try drenched in a spicy red wine sauce.

Anjou
Although thought to originate in mid-nineteenth century France or Belgium this variety represents a third of all US-grown pears.  The d’Anjou is juicy, aromatic and incredibly popular.  So much so that D’Anjou purée is used for Jelly Belly’s Juicy Pear flavour of jelly bean.  Go off piste with a balsamic glaze.

Bosc
Leathery skinned and blemished, the Bosc doesn’t look the most appetising of pears, but beneath the mottled skin lies a distinct flavour, which many believe superior to other prettier pears.  Holds its shape well through cooking and despite common belief, is just as delicious eaten raw.  If you’re in a particularly adventurous mood, you could even stir-fry it with chicken.

Asian Pears
Sometimes going by the name Nashi, Sand or Apple pear, the asian pear has a crunchy texture akin to an apple, and is most commonly served raw.  Beware, these beauties bruise easily, no not one for the handbag.  Wonderful in a cocktail.

Black Worcester
The Black Worcester is a rare and ancient variety, which possibly originated from Roman times, but takes its name from an English town from which it was commonly grown in years past.  The city, so proud it is of its fruity past even features the variety on its coat of arms.  One of the best cooking pears, it requires slow cooking for 1-2 hours for best results.

Of course, these are just the pear essentials, there are hundreds of other recipes waiting to be read on Food Network.

By Rose Enright

More pear fun from across the pond

Praise the gourd

Yes, it’s that time of year.  That time when the nation is split into one of three simple categories: those who are dragged around the neighbourhood by small people dressed as scary ghosts and not particularly scary princesses; those who welcome aforementioned small scary people on their doorsteps, rewarding such endeavours with treats (or expecting tricks in lieu of treats); and those of us who hide indoors pretending not to be in.  I couldn’t possibly comment on which category I belong to, but I will say that I love a pumpkin.

A multi-tasking, international vegetable, the pumpkin – the Cucurbita (scientific), the pepon (Greek origin), the pompon (French) – is big news in the gourd world.  Originating, in popular thought, from North and Central America, the versatile, resilient pumpkin can grow in any of the world’s continents, the only exception being Antarctica.  It’s used in South Asian countries in main dishes like Kadu ka halwa and Sambar, in Thailand they are filled with custard and steamed for dessert, it’s stuffed in ravioli in Italy and slathered in delicate batter and fried as Tempura in Japan.  And all of that before we even think about our beloved pumpkin pies, breads and soups.

The pumpkin is a heavyweight across the board, with an entire festival and show circuit revolving around the eternal search for the biggest, baddest specimen. The current world record pumpkin is Christy Harp’s colossal 1,725-pound (782 kilograms) Atlantic giant pumpkin, which claimed its prize in 2009 at the annual Ohio Valley Giant Pumpkin Growers weigh-off, and is as yet undefeated.

So this year, as you scoop out the guts of your (significantly smaller) pumpkin jack-o-lantern at the behest of the small scary people who live with you, make like the government and save, save, save.  Save the seeds – wash them, dry them and roast them for a great healthy snack.  Save the glorious sunset flesh – puddings, pancakes, cupcakes… the list is endless, or at least 47 pages long on Food Network.  The world’s your pumpkin.

By Rose Enright

More pumpkin fun from across the pond

Five English apples you should know and love

On a trip to my local Waitrose the other day I spotted an apple section filled to overflowing. Tub after tub of different varieties gazing out in their marvellous flushed tones – greens and yellows, reds and oranges. But my excitement soon turned to crushing disappointment as I realised that just two of the eleven types on offer were of British origin. All I could see were commercial long-haul imports – Pink Ladies (Chile), Jazz apples (New Zealand) and Granny Smiths (South Africa).

I hope I don’t come across as an overbearing patriot when I argue that, living in one of the prime apple-growing countries in the world, I expect better of a shop like Waitrose. Perhaps we have forgotten that apples aren’t just apples – they are as varied, complicated and wonderful as wine or cheese, and the English apple deserves to be celebrated and sought out in the same way as wines from France and cheese from, erm, France.

Here are five of my favourites. What are yours?

Blenheim Orange
This is a grandfather among apple varieties, having been first discovered as long ago as the relatively quiet year of 1740 in the rather quiet town of Woodstock, Oxfordshire. Its lasting popularity is, of course, not without reason: the Blenheim Orange has a unique nutty flavour and a crumbly texture that works amazingly in cooking but can also be eaten fresh. Very nice with cheese.

Bramley
The king of pies and crumbles, this is the perfect apple to stock up on now we’re approaching that dreaded ‘turn the central heating on’ moment. The first specimens of this large apple were grown just over two hundred years ago, in 1809, by a young girl named Ann Brailsford. The name ‘Bramley’ or ‘Bramley Seedling’ comes from a local butcher, Matthew Bramley, who later bought the land on which the tree was planted. As well as hot desserts, these classic English apples are superb in compotes, chutneys and apple sauce.

Cox’s Orange Pippin
The sheer range of things you can do with a Cox’s Orange Pippin have made it the single most popular English apple variety. Bite into it straight from the tree, use it in an impressive dessert, have it for your breakfast, give it to your teacher – the possibilities are as endless as the Cox variations that have since been devised, from Crimson Cox to King Cox to Queen Cox. It’s a complicated apple, with a wonderful flavour that hints at no less than an entire supermarket fruit section. Why splash out on pears, melons and oranges when you can get them all in the one apple?

Prince William
The National Association of Cider Makers yesterday unveiled no less than 29 new varieties of apple especially created for our favourite fruit-based pint, one of which was the Prince William – cheekily named after the royal second-in-line’s liking for a tipple. The vision was to make cider with a superior balance of sweetness and bitterness. Other varieties picked up names such as Shamrock, Helen’s Apple and Lizzy (after Liz Copas, who oversaw the project).

Worcester Pearmain
One for the connoisseur, the Worcester Pearmain is known for its unusual strawberry-like flavour. Apple and strawberry in one fruit – what could be more English? Makes the perfect accompaniment to a plate of cheese. You can spot them by the lovely redness mingling with the classic shades of pale green.

And when you have your apples, why not try something new? Food Network has 88 pages of apple recipes to explore and enjoy.

By M. Cosworth

More fun with apples from around the globe: