The beet crop is phenomenal this year.  Golden Beets, Chioggia Beets, Bull's Blood Beets, Red Ace and Merlin Beets are all fabulous.   

I love them roasted in the oven, then sliced on a plate into gold and red coins with a drizzle of orange infused olive oil.  Once, short of time, I tried Nigella Lawson's raw beet salad from "Forever Summer" and now think beets are even better raw than roasted -- this recipe is far removed from the sweet and sour 'Harvard' beets I grew up with, or the chemically sweet and vinegary school beetroot that stained plates and taste buds. 

The toasted mustard seeds and dill impart a Scandinavian flavor combination, I've also made it with flat-leaf parsley when I had no dill in the garden, and have skipped the mustard seed and chopped up large handfuls of cilantro and mint when those were at hand.  All are good.  You can also use a combination of beets and carrots, both hold their texture so this can be made in advance and refrigerated, in fact I think the flavor improves the next day.
 
RAW BEET, DILL & MUSTARD SEED SALAD from "Forever Summer" by Nigella Lawson
Big bunch fresh dill (about 6 tablespoons when chopped)
18 oz raw beets
Juice of 1 lemon
2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil (orange infused if you can find it)
2 tablespoons mustard seeds
A spoonful or so of chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley (optional)
Serves: 6.

This is extremely easy to make in a food processor, arduous done by hand.  Strip the stalks from the dill and zap it in the food processor until finely chopped.  Scrape it out into a large bowl, keeping some aside for sprinkling on top.  Fit the julienne or grater disc and then peel and half the beetroot so it fits down the funnel, you should wear rubber gloves for this or you'll spend the evening with hands like Lady Macbeth.  Turn the grated beetroot into a bowl and toss with the dill until well mixed together.  Squeeze the lemon juice over, drizzle in the olive oil and toss again. Then toss the mustard seeds for a couple of minutes in a non-stick or heavy-based frying pan, it helps if it has high sides as they'll start popping and dancing over the stovetop.  Add the mustard to the salad and toss for a final time.  Tip it out into a bowl or plate and scatter the reserved dill and chopped parsley on top for a hint of vibrant green.  
We have Australian friends who wax lyrical about their Ausie burgers with "the lot" which in Australia includes lettuce, mayo, tomato, sliced beetroot, a fried egg, bacon, and a dash of ketchup or barbecue sauce.  I haven't been tempted to try this with sliced roasted beets but could imagine adding a dollop of this raw beet salad to a burger. I found a similar salad in an old Martha Stewart book "Great Food Fast" which has a Middle Eastern flavor to it with the cumin, coriander and cinnamon combination.  It packs a punch and is delicious served with lamb kebabs or a chicken tagine.  

Beetroot and Carrot Salad from "Great Food Fast" by Martha Stewart
18 oz raw beets
3 carrots
1/4 cup lemon juice
1 tbl extra-virgin olive oil
1 tbl honey
3/4 tsp ground cumin
1/2 tsp ground coriander
1/4 tsp ground cinnamon
1/8 tsp cayenne pepper
1/3 cup flat leaf parsley 

Whisk together lemon juice, oil, honey, cumin, coriander, cinnamon, cayenne plus 3/4 tsp salt. Peel the beets and carrots and grate or julienne them in a food processor.  Add to the bowl along with the parsley and toss all the ingredients together.

When we lived in the UK Sunday lunch was a ritual, followed by a walk around the fields with our golden retriever.  With hectic teenage schedules I wasn't able to recreate that when we moved to the US.  

Now with no teenagers left in the house the leisurely home lunch seems permanently out of the window and we've taken to gardening and exploratory day trips that don't involve my cooking.  Sunday night is still ritually spent watching a movie in the family room with a plate on our knees.
Today I marinated chicken pieces in garlic, olive oil and rosemary so they would be ready to be thrown in the oven when we returned.  All that was left to do was cut some fresh crusty bread from the farmers market and braise broccoli raab.   I don't know why I continue to buy broccoli raab at the farmers market -- or grow it for that matter.  It never goes down particularly well.  This time I sauteed some red pepper flakes and chopped garlic in olive oil until the garlic was golden, added the broccoli briefly and then poured on some organic chicken broth and braised it for five minutes.  It was healthy but still not my favorite greens.

Blueberry/Raspberry/Strawberry Pudding Cake

The Rhubarb Strawberry Pudding Cake I was going to bring to the Devon Horse show tonight vanished during the day.  It's a quick, easy, delicious desert so I threw together another one home when I returned from work.  I was out of rhubarb and vanilla extract so improvised with the punnets of raspberries and blueberries I had in the fridge and added lemon extract.  Even better than the original.




Ingredients
1/2 cup water
3 teaspoons cornstarch
1/3 cup plus 1 cup sugar
2 cups blueberries
2 cups raspberries
1 cup chopped fresh strawberries 
2 cups all-purpose flour
3 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
2  large eggs
1 cup whole milk
2 sticks butter, melted and cooled slightly
1 1/2 teaspoon lemon extract

Put oven rack in middle position and preheat oven to 400°F. Butter an 8-inch square glass or ceramic baking dish.

Stir together water, cornstarch, and 1/3 cup sugar in a small saucepan, then stir in strawberries and blueberries. Bring to a simmer, stirring constantly, then simmer, stirring occasionally, 2 minutes. Remove from heat and stir in raspberries.  

Whisk together flour, baking powder, salt, and remaining 1 cup sugar in a bowl.

Whisk together eggs, milk, butter, and vanilla in a large bowl, then whisk in flour mixture until just combined.

Reserve 1 cup fruit mixture, then add remainder to baking dish and pour batter over it, spreading evenly. Drizzle reserved cup of fruit mixture over batter. Bake until a wooden pick inserted into center of cake portion comes out clean, 25 to 30 minutes.

Cool in pan on a rack 5 minutes before serving.  Serve warm with cream or ice cream.

The start of summer and time for parades, speeches and old fashioned fun.  The garden is a sauna, with a heat advisory in place for later in the day.  I'm always nostalgic this time of year, memories of childhood summers, rolling down grass banks, the thwock of tennis balls, hot sticky days on the beach and the music of the ice-cream van.  I miss cones of soft white ice-cream with a cadbury's flake in the middle, but in reality would rather a refreshing dish of Italian gelatto.  

Lemon Granita
On hot summer days, lemon granita is delicious served with biscotti or even spooned onto brioche for breakfast.  Easy to find on the streets of Rome, more difficult in Philadelphia but making your own is fairly simple.

Ingredients
9fl oz water 
17oz golden granulated or caster sugar 
7 large Amalfi lemons 9 (if you can find them, ordinary lemons will do), about 18fl oz juice 
5fl oz soda water

Make a sugar syrup by heating the water and sugar together until the sugar dissolves. Zest the lemons directly into the warm syrup (if you grow your own lemon trees and have any leaves you can wash one or two and add them to the warm syrup where they will release their rather peppery oils). Squeeze the lemons, strain the juice and add it to the syrup, removing the leaves if used. Stir in the cold soda water and refrigerate the mixture for 20 minutes.

Freeze in a stainless-steel container (a rectangular one is best) and stir with a fork every hour or so, making sure you pay attention to the sides where the mixture can quickly freeze solid.  Once the mixture is firm and frozen, cover with parchment paper so that the granita is not exposed to the freezer air and wrap in cling film.

To serve, place the granita in the fridge for 10 to 15 minutes, then scrape along the top with a heavy-duty ice-cream scoop or metal spoon to create slushy ice crystals.

Top the granita with candied lemon peel and serve with sweetened whipped cream with a tablespoon of marsala.

Watermelon Ice
A slice of ripe watermelon, chilled in the fridge, is the essence of summer.  Making it into a ice cream seems almost redundant, but they can make a delicious thirst quenching water ice.  The pallid tasting stuff from Rita's Ice is a far cry from the glasses you find in Italy, often studded with fresh jasmine flowers and sprinkled with coarsely grated dark chocolate to resemble the missing pips.  Much better to make your own, with a pinch of salt that cuts through the sweetness of the fruit like a good margarita. 

Ingredients
2lb 4oz watermelon flesh 
generous pinch of salt 
juice of 2 limes 
2oz golden granulated or caster sugar 
6oz dark chocolate, coarsely grated (optional to sprinkle on top)

Process the watermelon flesh in a blender with the salt and lime juice. Pour the mixture through a fine sieve into a stainless-steel container or plastic tub. Using the back of a ladle, push it through and strain out all of the remnants of pips. Stir in the sugar, and keep stirring until it has dissolved.

Place the container in the freezer and freeze, stirring with a fork every hour or so making sure to stir in any frozen mixture on the sides, if not mixed well while freezing, the water will separate from the fruit, creating white patches in the granita.

Serve with a straw on hot days so you can suck it up when it starts to melt.  It is nice to serve this in waxed paper cups on a hot day, with straws for sucking it up when it starts to melt. 

Chocolate Pudding Ice Cream
For all chocoholics this ice cream fits the bill.  It's incredibly simple to make and relatively low fat though with an intense flavor.  Sicilians use cornflour instead of egg as a thickener in gelati as it's cheaper and lighter to digest.  It also doesn't inhibit the flavors of the other ingredients as egg can. 

Ingredients
16fl oz whole milk 
1/2 oz cornflour 
1¾oz good quality cocoa powder 
2¾oz golden granulated or caster sugar 
pinch of salt

Mix 4 oz of the milk with the cornflour to a smooth paste. Set aside. Mix together the cocoa powder, sugar and salt in a large bowl. Heat the remaining milk to simmering point, then pour in a steady stream over the cocoa mixture, whisking vigorously to prevent lumps from forming. Return the mixture to the stove in a stainless-steel pan, cooking over a very low heat at barely simmering point. Stir the bottom constantly to prevent burning. Cook for six minutes, then add the blended cornflour, whisking again to prevent lumps. Return to a simmer and cook for two minutes until thickened and smooth.

Strain the mixture into a clean container and cool in an ice-water bath, stirring often to prevent a skin from forming. Refrigerate for at least four hours (this 'ages' the ice cream so that the water and fat cells mingle and the ice cream has better body and melts more slowly once frozen).

Freeze and churn in an ice-cream machine according to the manufacturer's instructions.

Serve with cashew nuts and a pinch of lightly toasted ancho chilli seeds ground up with sea salt, or with sweetened whipped cream and grated dark chocolate.

The vegetable garden is coming to life with vengeance.   I harvested a mesculan green mix, arugula, mizuna, romaine, spinach, baby peas. asparagus spears and some oregano, parsley and cilantro.  Time to toss them in a salad with a basic vinaigrette (2 tbls olive oil and a tsp of pomegranate or fig vinegar, a dash of salt and pepper and some diced spring onions) and some crumbled goat cheese, fried and crumbled bacon from the farmers market, buttered croutons and top with a poached egg gathered from the chickens this afternoon.  

I finally conquered poaching, the key seems to be to add a tbsp of white vinegar to 4 cups of water and bring to a soft boil (little bubbles, not a rolling boil).  Drop the cracked egg into the water as you stir the water with a spoon, so that the egg swirls around in a circle in the warm water.  After approximately 3 -4 minutes, the egg will be soft boiled (Test it by lifting the egg on a slotted spoon and gently shaking it.  It should move but not look watery.  The goal is that the yolk is still liquid, but the white is fully cooked). 

Joyous tidings of spring today, with birds singing and temperatures warm enough to walk outside without a jacket.  Frozen snow is still coating the ground, but in the greenhouse it's still possible to rub mint leaves between your fingers and imagine summer.  

Herbs have always been part of our medicinal, culinary and folkloric repertoire and are now regaining great popularity.   Beneath the snow I'm hoping the perennial herbs are surviving and am looking forward to their color, texture and perfume when they emerge.   Last fall I potted up a few varieties of these stalwarts in well-drained compost and have them in pots on my windowsill so I can use them in recipes throughout the winter.  

Rosemary is Queen of the winter greenhouse herbs. Introduced by the Romans, it is a flavorsome partner to garlic and lemon, is great with lamb, chicken or a pan of roast mixed vegetables.  It's easy to add a few sprigs to a bottle of supermarket olive oil as a pick-me-up to baste or drizzle over winter salads.  

Sage is traditionally used in stuffings or bread sauce.  It's also delicious with pared lemon rind, pine nuts, mushrooms and garlic with poultry. To add flavor to winter salad dressings try macerating a leaf in a bottle of white balsamic or cider vinegar with a few juniper berries.  I'm fond of the golden, chartreuse and purple varieties which brighten up any beds inside or out.

Thyme is great chopped and added to an aromatic winter salad of radicchio with lentils, another simple recipe is to beat together a few sprigs with 12oz of white beans, two crushed cloves of garlic and some chili to taste, then slowly pour in olive oil and the juice of half a lemon.  Season with salt and pepper and eat with toasted sourdough bread.   I also grow lemon thyme which is wonderful when stripped of its stems and pounded into a gremolade with lemon zest, garlic and sea salt to eat with sauteed fish.  Outside, thyme can be used to creep it's fragrant way into the most unwelcoming spots.

Bay leaves are delicious fresh. Add a few leaves to a jam jar of sugar to flavour rice puddings, or add a sprig of rosemary, lavender or a vanilla pod instead. Gather all four herbs together to make a bouquet garni, and add to a slow-cooked tomato purée with a little brown sugar for pasta, or just use a bunch to decorate your kitchen table.

WInter Savory, another easy indoor winter herb, is wonderfully aromatic on good bread toasted with goat's cheese and drizzled with olive oil.

Chervil, pale green, frilly, and delicious as a topping for creamy scrambled eggs. 

Strong cheese, like goat’s cheese, works well with pungent herbs. Try marinating a few round crottins with sprigs of thyme, rosemary or savoury in a jar, with shallots, chilli peppers and garlic. Top up with oil and leave for a month.

One of my favorite pasta recipes is memorized from an old Italian cookbook.  The original version called for a lavish assortment of ten chopped herbs warmed gently in a pan of olive oil for a few minutes, until the herbs turned vibrant green.  I've experimented with a tablespoon each of chopped parsley, garlic chives, chervil, sage, marjoram and thyme, a chopped garlic clove and dried chilli with ground black pepper.  Spoon over a dish of hot linguini. 

Nothing better on a cold rainy day than a bowl of hot soup.  Parsnips are one of my favorite winter vegetables, this is an easy fabulous recipe.

Parsnip Soup
1 stick butter
1 and ½ c. chopped onions
2 c. parsnip, peeled and sliced into 1 in. pieces.
2 c. cooked pumpkin or one 15oz can of raw pumpkin.
(You can use  4 cups parsnip but the soup will be very sweet)
Dash nutmeg (optional)
 Dollop of sour cream and chopped scallions or chives for garnish

Sauté chopped onions in butter on med-low heat in a covered pan until the onions are soft.  Add parsnips and continue to sauté in covered pan until really soft.  Process the cooked mixture in a food processor in batches adding beef bouillon to make the soup the right thickness for your taste. You can use any brand of bouillon, but the Better than Bouillon brand is the best - it’s in glass jars in the bouillon section of the grocery store. The vegetable base also works.  
Add a little nutmeg if desired and season to taste with salt and pepper. 

Add just a dollop of sour cream to bowls and add flavor and garnish with sprinkling of chopped scallion or chives. 

In our computerized, automated age, an article I just read about the British forced rhubarb business astonished me.  The heart of the industry is in Yorkshire where loam soil on a clay base makes for perfect rhubarb crowns. The process has changed little since Victorian times, when rhubarb's popularity was at it's peak, and farmers planted their crop in heated sheds with earth floors, and harvested by candle-light.  The local coal mines provided cheap fuel, waste effluence enriched the soil and, as "rhubarb loves soot", the crop thrived in the high levels of air pollution.

Forced rhubarb, with it's fabulous fushia pink stems, sherbert-tangy flavor and delicate texture, is the crème de la crème.  It sounds very different from the stringy, tannic, greenish stalks I grow in my garden.  However, forcing it is a really tedious labor of love.   First the roots, or crowns, are grown outside for at least two years.  Early in their third winter they are dug up after it has been cold enough to break their dormancy and planted in heated sheds.  All light is blocked off and in the dark warmth the shoots appear so quickly the sheaths around the buds can be heard gently popping.  Three weeks later they are ready for their first "pulling" or harvesting.  This in itself is quite an art.  The "pullers" carry cast iron stakes topped with a candle as electric light spoils the color of the stems, in the pale flickering light they have to navigate a sea of chartreuse-yellow leaves and pull only the stems that are as long as an arm while not damaging any of the plants.  It is said this arcane cold-dark-heat process was discovered by a gardener who threw an old crown on a stable muck pile.  The manure was hot and the plant was soon covered, until a couple of weeks later the startling pink stems were found and eaten by a stable boy.  

Great story, now I just have to seek some out here so I can make my annual rhubarb vodka recipe.  I was inspired by the most delicious rhubarb vodka I tasted at a pub in the Cotswolds - unfortunately it was made privately for them and not available commercially.  I've been trying ever since to replicate the taste.  Last year I added vanilla pods, but unlike the year before the rhubarb stems I used were green,  I think both the colour and flavour are better when fuchsia pink forced rhubarb is used.  This year I'm going to follow the advice we were given at Bovey Castle at their cider and sloe gin making course.  The secret seems to leave it in the vodka for 9 months to a year, not the couple of months I have been steeping it for.  Hard to wait that long!  

Rhubarb infused vodka
Bright pink rhubarb
Sugar
vodka
Large container with sealable lid
Wash the rhubarb and cut the sticks into equal-sized lengths.  Fill container at least 1/2 full.  According to most recipes you should pour sugar over and shake until the rhubarb is covered.  I find this is too sweet so just add sugar until it is about halfway up the rhubarb.  Add vodka to more than cover and shake.  Shake 1x a day for a week, 1x week for a month, 1x month for a year.  Drink!

This was on a friend's fb post and sounds delicious.  The recipe is originally from Kutz & Kaminsky's "Elements of Taste" 

Slice two large onions, (Bombay or big onions if possible) and boil them down with two cups of red wine, and half a cup of red wine vinegar. Or cider or a subtle Chinese vinegar.  Just boil it down in a heavy bottomed pan. Keep adding little bits of Kithul treacle -- (or maple syrup) -- one table spoon at a time, as it boils down. When the liquid is nearly done -- add salt and pepper, fresh ground is best -- if you have a grinder, white pepper will give it a subtler heat than black--and you are ready to serve this on crackers. Pate or cold vegetables are great with this. It is the aroma of the vinigar that hits you first, and the tartness of the vinegar, on the tongue. It's soft, but there may be tiny crunch, and then the sweetness of onion lingers with the kithul. Yes, you'd want another bit.