whole rice pancakes

Where I can, I like to keep grains whole in order to slow their transit through the body. When I cook wholegrain rice, I soak it overnight in water then wash and cook in the usual way.
One weekend morning in my unvarnished, day-off state, I rather overcooked the rice for breakfast. Instead of the usual fluffy grains, I had a small pan full of rice porridge - arg! Not wanting to admit defeat, I thought I'd try using the rice to make a pancake, and the result was infinitely better than expected. The pancakes were not the most co-operative, but they formed a nice crisp buttery edge and were pliable enough to roll up. Because they didn't employ rice flour, there was no uncooked grain taste, just that fragrant cooked rice flavour - slightly sweet and nuttily complex.

The taste reminded me slightly of naan bread - although I couldn't really say why. I just instantly imagined some cumin scented, dry curry wrapped up in one of these, with a dollop of cool yogurt. Rice and curry - it's just one of those combinations I guess? Finn imagined them with banana and honey and Nick ate his thoughtfully, just as it was.

If you do eat grains, but are reluctant to use too much flour, I suggest you try these. Rice is a notoriously fast releasing starch, but combining it whole, with eggs, butter, milk and ground nuts is a good way to slow it right down and prevent any unwanted blood sugar rise.

Whole Rice Pancakes
(Makes about 8 smallish ones)

Because rice should not be kept for long once rehydrated (due to naturally occurring bacterial spores), you need to use this batter within 24 hours of making it up.

60g / 2oz wholegrain rice
2 large eggs
30g / 1 oz ground almonds (or gluten free flour such as sorghum, chestnut or teff)
200ml liquid (made up of 100ml rice water and 100ml goat milk in my case)
unsalted butter or duck fat to fry

Soak the rice overnight in plenty of water with a half teaspoon of vinegar added if you like (it helps remove enzyme inhibitors).Drain and wash the rice and cook in plenty of water until really soft. Allow the water to evaporate, but make sure there is at least 100ml left in the pan. Drain and reserve 100ml of the rice water.
Allow the rice to cool before making up the mix. Rice should always be cooled as quickly as possible, so I usually spread it on a plate and put it in the fridge.
To make the pancake batter, put all the ingredients in a blender and blend until as smooth as you can get it. If you're using gluten free flour rather than nuts, then you may need a little more liquid to get a batter consistency. For the other 100ml of liquid you could use any type of milk - nut milk, cow's, goats or coconut milk, or just plain water.
Fry very gently in butter (or Duck Fat / Coconut Oil if you prefer) in a heavy bottomed pan over a lowish heat and take great care when lifting the edges of the pancake. Allow it to form a mid brown crust and then use a palette knife to loosen the pancake from the edge all the way around before flipping it over gently. Cook for a minute or so on the other side and then transfer to a wire rack or waiting plate.
I defy you to resist breaking off a little piece of buttery crust to munch before it gets to the table!

fluffy eggs

Pictured here is an item of culinary legend from my childhood. It is a dish that conjours up a moment of calm comfort in a childhood full of chaos and freedom. Fluffy eggs. My mum sure was good with a whisk.

Essentially this is just toast and eggs, that time honoured breakfast staple. But there is something so incredible about the juxtaposition of crisp toast, melted butter, salty, peppery egg fluff and yolk, cooked just long enough to ooze into the toast. Someone cares enough about your happiness at that early hour to pick up a whisk and assemble your eggs and toast into a confection that lets the world drop away, leaving you to bask in the warm sun of their regard.

In a moment of nostalgia I made these eggs for Finn. I used some thinly sliced brazil and almond bread, a generous slab of butter and lots of fresh black pepper. I was making it up a little, but everything seemed to go to plan and Fin's eyes grew as wide as saucers when he saw his breakfast sitting on a small pink plate all fluff and barely cooked yolk.

I made one for me too, so I could share the moment. Our eyes met across the table and the years fell away as I saw myself again, egg yolk on my chin from licking the plate clean.

You could cut the toast into a heart shape for valentine's day, but I don't think you need to state the obvious. Anyone who sees you whisking egg whites while frost is still on the grass will know you love them, without having it written on a heart shaped box.

Fluffy Eggs  Makes 2 portions

2 large  eggs
2 Slices of bread
butter
sea salt
black pepper

Toast the bread and butter it as generously as you like. Set aside.

Preheat the oven to 200ºC fan/220ºC conventional oven

Separate the eggs and leave the unbroken yolks each in half a shell, wedged carefully in the egg box while you beat the egg whites with a pinch of salt and lots of black pepper until stiff.

Make a nest on the buttered toast with the egg white, leaving a space in the middle just big enough for the egg yolk to sit. You probably won't use all the egg white - you could keep it in the fridge to add to a batch of bread, or stir into an omelette.

Put the toast and nest onto a baking sheet and plop the yolks carefully into the space so as not to break them.

Bake for 5-6 minutes, until there is a skin on the yolk, (but not much more than that) and the fluff is crisp and golden. If you don't like a really runny yolk then give it another couple of minutes.

Serve immediately or all your hard work will flop disappointingly. Provide salt, pepper and maybe a dollop of homemade ketchup.

 

A simple, creamy, zesty, garlicky broccoli soup

Yesterday morning Bridport woke to find itself clothed in a fine layer of snow. Only the third time for Finn, so all the more thrilling as we vicariously enjoyed his delight. As the morning wore on, salt breeze playing over the grass, sun warming the air a little, the snow melted back into the earth, leaving only a little slush in the gutter that splashed up our backs as we cycled home. Finn salvaged what was left under a bush on the sheltered side of the house and stashed it lovingly in the freezer.

The rest of the country came to a standstill, factory lines ground to a halt, lorries lay at the side of the road like earthworms dug up and blinking in the light. Snow fell, and fell, and fell, in great drifts,  muffling the busy work day week into an unexpected holiday.

Nick was tucked up warm with an early night, after a tense drive home from snowbound London. I  on the other hand just couldn't sleep as the snow had me feeling all Christmas eve. So after a little stitching and television I found myself in the dark kitchen cradling a mug of chamomile, watching the night.

Snow had started to fall again while the house slept. Fat flakes fell in an endless drift from the sky, magically appearing from the blackness and twirling their way inevitably down to land thickly on the ground. The lawn was already obscured by a thick white blanket that reached across our garden and into the road, vehicles and postboxes stranded like bumper cars abandoned here and there at the end of a ride.

Bushes on the lawn looked edible as crystalised roses, encrusted with sparkling white sugar, dredged on from above with a generous hand. There was such absolute quiet, I realised that I was holding my breath, waiting for something. I held my warm cup close to my lips and breathed out a steamy shawl , like a child misting the sweetshop window.

The night sky was alive with dancing snowflakes as they followed every gust of wind, chasing each other to the ground, sparkling miraculously through the inky night to appear like a shower of gold leaf under the sodium glow of street lamps. For such a show of sparkle and life, they fell in complete silence.

My ear waited for a sound to come, seagull or distant engine hum and yet there was none. The town slept deep, as though a spell had been cast, as though I had stepped through our kitchen door into Narnia or a silent movie. Whilst I wasn't looking, the town had taken a sleeping draught and twelve princesses skipped away through forests of silver trees, to dance all night and ruin their flimsy silk slippers, unseen by any but me.

At last, in the midst of all this magical silence, a car crunched gingerly down the hill, rolling to a slow stop on the other side of the road. A pair of black tracks followed it through the pristine snow. The spell was broken. I drained my cup and headed for bed.

When it snows, you want to be out there enjoying the miracle - not stuck in the kitchen. So here's a soup that can be made in minutes, tastes as creamy, delicate and satisfying as something that you spent hours over, and features super food centre stage. Get out there and throw snowballs with abandon, knowing you can be sitting down to a bowl of this almost before the snow has melted on your wellingtons.
 


Broccoli, Garlic and Lemon Zest Soup (serves 4-6)


If you need to reheat this, do so very gently or you will destroy the fresh flavour and end up with something rather cabbagy. It's best made fresh.

550g broccoli florets
30g butter
3-4 cloves of garlic
zest of 1 lemon
2 large pinches of sea salt

Wash and chop the broccoli into small florets.

Mince the garlic finely and melt the butter gently over a low flame in a medium to large saucepan. When the butter has melted, add garlic and sweat for a couple of minutes until translucent but not coloured at all.

Grate the zest from the lemon and add to the pan with salt and brocolli, stir to coat.

Pour over 1 1/2 pints of boiling water and bring back up to the boil again.

Boil gently - a kind of aggressive simmer, not a rolling boil - until the stalks of the broccoli are soft, but still bright green. Don't let the broccoli turn olive green or the soup will lose its freshness.

Puree in a blender (or with a stick blender) until completely smooth and creamy. Adjust seasoning to taste, adding more salt or some black pepper if you like, possibly a little lemon juice - but not too much.

Pour into bowls and top with a swirl of yogurt.