Falling halfway between dried and fresh, they might take a little more cooking, but they’re worth it. Good as a vegetable side, as part of a quick casserole, or in ribollita or minestrone soup. They’re a fantastic bean - the only downside being that they lose their graffiti markings when they’re cooked.
I always think of stuffed vegetables, and fruit, being a bit retro and reminiscent of a slightly pretentious 1970’s dinner party menu - but what goes around comes around and, as I always say to my wife - give your mother a break. Or at least when it comes to her dinner party menus.
Baked apples probably wouldn’t have featured in one of my mother-in-law’s west London dinner parties. They’re more Jane Austin or Mr Sponge's Sporting Tour where they’d probably have featured as part of an enormous breakfast buffet.
They’re actually quite hard to cook as, even when left whole, Bramley apples have a tendency to explode when they reach a certain point. You need the sharp acidity so other apples aren’t really an option - although, if you can get them, Raymond Blanc’s beloved Golden Reinette might be an option.
If you like jazzing up your Sunday roast a stuffed baked apple would be an option but I’d be more inclined to serve them a s a simple supper - with mash and gravy - and maybe an extra sausage on the side.
A Greek-inspired recipe from Chris Sherville (yes chef), these tomato keftedes are packed with ripe tomatoes, fresh herbs, feta and Parmesan, then fried until crisp and golden. A good way to make the most of tomatoes while they’re still in season.
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.
This Crown Prince and Chard Lasagna is a hearty and satisfying dish that celebrates the natural sweetness of squash and the earthy flavours of chard. Perfect for a cosy dinner, it layers caramelised Crown Prince squash seasoned with warming spices, tender chard, and a rich, creamy white sauce infused with nutmeg and Dijon mustard. Topped with golden parmesan and baked to perfection, this lasagna is a delightful twist on a classic, showcasing the best of seasonal, comforting ingredients. Serve it up for a special family meal or as a delicious vegetarian centrepiece.