Tapas come in many guises, from simple tortilla to London-centric ‘picture on a plate’ restaurant creations but often in Spain, and also Chez Ben’s, they can just be a ladle of whatever is in the pot at the time. Spain has an abundance of bean stews and Fabada Asturiana is, without question, the best known – almost the paella of the north. It's as simple as they come but totally dependent on the quality of the meat ingredients. It's almost a religion and the packs of, ready to go, belly pork, morcilla and chorizo are available in every food shop (including Ben's Farm Shop). Complete authenticity requires fabes de la granja (large dried runner beans) and a lightly smoked, semi cured morcilla (black pudding), chorizo and thick slices of salted belly pork. In damp Asturia, they smoke all their preserved meats in the chimney. The morcilla is the only one that keeps it’s form when cooked so definitely isn't interchangeable. The real deal beans are expensive and hard to find so most people, including me, substitute fava/butter/judion beans. It's important to stir as gently and little as possible to keep the beans intact.
The end result isn't exactly short of flavour but the extremely inauthentic mojo picon adds a little body to what can be a pretty thin broth. As with all these dishes, a slow cooker is ideal.
First Nation people were baking beans, sweetened with maple syrup, a long time before the Pilgrim Fathers arrived. A rum distilling industry soon developed in New England so the maple syrup was swapped for molasses or black treacle and Boston Baked Beans were born. It’s hard to imagine that tinned baked beans came from anywhere else. They were the first thing I cooked after my mother shipped me off to university with a slow cooker and a copy of Jocasta Innes’s Pauper’s Cookbook and they’ve remained a firm favourite ever since.
Pumpkins aren't just for October. Bring the taste of autumn into your Christmas kitchen with this candied pumpkin recipe that also doubles as a unique present. Packed in a jar with a ribbon or gift bag, it's a charming homemade gift full of natural sweetness and spice.
This classic Normandy apple and almomd tarte is somewhere between apple and frangipane - using a custard with the ground almonds forming a top crust. Almond flour tends to be a little too uniformly fine so I’d recommend blitzing some flaked almonds in the food processor.
Published in Robert Freson's 'A Taste of France', 1983.
This spatchcock chicken with sticky miso & harissa is sure to wow any guests you have over this summer. It's simple to put together but the delicious umami and sweet flavours of the marinade give it a mouth-watering and succulently complex taste.
For years I thought that anything other than the green Genovese version was sacrilege - until I was introduced to its Sicilian cousin aka Trapanese. Since then, I’ve been swimming with the Trapanesian fishes. The only caveat is that you have to have the right tomatoes. Only the finest and tastiest will do and that definitely doesn’t include cherry - or anything available in the supermarket.
You need that mythical beefsteak tomato some old lady in a french provisioners used to make you a sandwich, one hot afternoon just outside Carcassonne about twenty years ago. As you can tell, it was the highlight of my holiday but I was firmly put in my place a few years later when a friend, who had had a similar experience told me that she had extracted some tomato seeds from said sandwich, smuggled them back to Blighty, germinated and grown them the next year. Now that really must have been a good sandwich.
Anyway, back to the pesto. It’s a simple concoction of peeled and deseeded diced tomatoes (blessed by the lady in black from Carcassonne), blanched almonds, garlic, basil and a little mint. Recipes invariably call for Sicilia or Sardinian pecorino but I reckon it’s best left out of the sauce and grated over the finished dish.
You can't beat a bowl of strawberries in the summer. Especially when eating wild European strawberries, which do taste exquisite and that’s not a word that comes to me easily. This dish calls for a slight caramelisation in a pan with a dash of our very own apple cider vinegar to really make the strawberries sing. Don't forget the delectable addition of a side of shortcake to soak up all of the tangy syrup.
An indulgent dish of nduja, artichokes and ricotta for a spicy sausage dish with a difference.