Spicy pulled pork for tea? I can’t think of anything I’d rather have. Well apart from a large bowl of creamy blue cheese and a spoon, but hey, that’s just me. READ MORE
I hated staying in alone when I was single. It felt like a silent admission of defeat. I’d pace and distract myself with organising and tidying. I was never comfortable alone. READ MORE
January is almost drawing to a close and it feels colder by the day to me. The heating is cranked up, Christmas is long gone, the winter woollies are well and truly on and gloves are de rigueur upon setting foot outside. It’s what my late grandmother would have called ‘bracing’. Weather to clear the cobwebs away, weather to demand wellingtons and of course, weather to demand roasted meats and veg. READ MORE
We had a Mum’s night out on Friday. There were cocktails, kale crisps, wine, koftas, steak, cheese, pie and brownies. Plus gossip and laughter and comparing and contrasting. It was fun. I didn’t want it to end. But my inbuilt guilt alarm struck at about midnight. Like some kind of baggier, older Cinders I felt the need to hail cabs, gingerly unlock the door and creep up the creaky stairs. And then I felt this strange low-level sadness sweep over me. READ MORE
It was Lawrence’s first birthday today. My grandmother had two children in her early twenties and two in her thirties. She swore her forties were her favourite decade; I’m not sure what that says about early years child rearing back in the 40s/50s! Here are my observations and learnings from raising a baby from 0 to 1 in my mid thirties, the third time round:
I am hurtling towards the grand old age of 35. I know many reading this will scoff that really, that’s so young. But I’m worried. Less about the actual say it out loud age and more about my increasingly regular curmudgeon’s behaviour. I can only think my advancing years are to blame. Just a few examples of my new found angry lady status:
It’s hard not to notice that my anger is generally related to modes of transport. Maybe I should just stay in the house and be hermit like? I’d likely be a chirpy little hermit. Anyway, on to the recipe. These meatballs are easy, they’re low carb, they’re delightfully crunchy and they contain chorizo which makes them mighty moreish. My sons love them. I love them. Beware the pinkish colour of the inside of the balls post baking – that’s just the chorizo. They’re not raw I promise. Enjoy.
Lots of recipes like this in my book, Recipes from a Normal Mum, out now… on Amazon, at Waterstones, WHSmith, The Book Depository and many smaller outlets.
Last January: Lemon & blueberry loaf, my Bake Off cherry Bakewell inspired cupcakes, plus Sesame bread sticks
Two years ago: Love cupcakes, White chocolate, lemon and macadamia cake and a perfect wintery Roasted celeriac, carrot and parsnip soup.
Three years ago: Bake me not chocolate cake, Jelly and ice-cream meringue roulade, Good flapjack and Banana, butterscotch and fig traybake.
Four years ago: Treasure hunt ice-cream, Rhubarb and ginger chutney and Carrot cake.
Crunchy pork & coriander meatballs
Makes 15, though depends on size of balls
Ingredients:
In a food processor whizz up the bread and set aside two thirds for later. Add the black pepper, chorizo, coriander, minced pork and ketchup and pulse until combined then roll into meatballs about the size of golf balls. Then dip in beaten egg and roll in the fresh breadcrumbs made earlier.
Oven bake at 180c/gas mark 4 for about 25 mins until sizzling. My boys ate theirs with pasta but they are a delicious little morsel to eat alone.
This recipe is my suggestion to you for Christmas eve. I am not for a moment suggesting you grill and peel and stir away on the night itself. Instead make it this weekend right up to the point of assembly. Then freeze it. You can bake from frozen on Christmas eve, covered with foil and for an extra 40 minutes than the recipe below. I know, I know, there’s no need to thank me.
Okay, if you want to thank me, and you have my book, perhaps you’ll consider leaving me a review? You don’t have to have bought from Amazon to review on there but it really helps with boring things like how much it pops up in folk’s email suggestions.
If this recipe isn’t doing it for you when it comes to Christmas Eve inspiration then take a look on the pinterest board I’ve put together using ideas Facebook likers suggested for the last supper before Father Christmas visits.
FYI: I used a large roasting tin to cook my lasagne in, measuring 26 x 20 x 7cm. You can make this in stages by grilling the sausages the day before as well as roasting the vegetables if it makes life a little easier.
This recipe features in my book, Recipes from a Normal Mum, out now… on Amazon, at Waterstones, WHSmith, The Book Depository and many smaller outlets.
Last December: My slow cooker beef bourguignon pie and Crumble topped mince pies and a very ugly but delicious cranberry & raspberry traybake
Two years ago: Mini Yorkshire pudding canapes and Christmas pudding fizz and Brandy butter icing and Rudolf morsels
Three years ago: Lime meringue pie with chocolate pastry and Christmas scones and Ginger cake with Christmas cottage and Hot chocolate on a stick
Four years ago: Moonuts and Cheese biscuits and Parsnip soup and Inauthentic chicken tagine
Triple S lasagne
Ingredients:
Grill the sausages until browned and cooked through on all sides, this takes about 15 minutes. Leave them to cool then slice lengthways into three long strips.
Meanwhile, preheat the oven to 200°C/gas mark 6. Put the squash and onion into a roasting tin and drizzle with oil. Roast in the oven for 30 minutes until cooked through and browned, then add the chopped tomatoes and roast for another 15 minutes. Remove from the oven and set aside to cool a little before mashing a little to break up the squash pieces. Don’t be too thorough though as you don’t want a pureé.
Make the béchamel by melting the butter with the sage leaves in a saucepan over a medium heat. Add the flour and pepper and whisk together until a smooth paste forms. Cook the flour off for 1 minute then turn the heat to low and add a little of the milk. Whisk well, then add some more before whisking again and so on, until you’ve added all the milk and the sauce is thick and smooth. Remove from the heat.
Assemble the lasagne by placing half the sausage slices in the bottom of the roasting tray, covering with half of the squash sauce. Add a layer of lasagne (3 sheets) and then half the béchamel sauce. Cover with another layer of lasagne sheets, followed by the rest of the sausages and the remainder of the squash sauce. Lay over the final sheets of lasagne and cover completely with the remaining béchamel. Sprinkle with parmesan and bake for 35–45 minutes or until a knife slips through the pasta easily. Serve with a green salad.
Ideas for using up fresh sage: Use a couple of leaves along with a lemon to stuff a chicken for an aromatic and homely roast. Fry leaves in butter and serve simply over cooked pasta with a little fresh grated cheese for a supper that is ready in minutes. A rustic beany bake is a welcome winter supper, just add a couple of sage leaves to a can of drained cannellini beans, a tin of chopped tomatoes and a few slices of grilled bacon, bake at 180C/gas mark 4 for 40 minutes and serve with crusty bread.
P.S. To sign up for my free monthly newsletter just click here. It has a baking SOS, recommendations on bits of kit I can’t live without, my kitchen catastrophe of the month, a sneak preview of a recipe coming up on this blog and a letter from me telling you what I’ve been up to. Remember to check your inbox for a confirmation email and also to add my email recipesfromanormalmum@gmail.com to your contacts. Otherwise I could go to spam.
Do you have a best friend? I hate the very label.
I went to a school where every girl had to have a best friend. The class was divided into neat little pairs. Every so often someone would decide they wanted to break best friends and have a new best friend, which would of course mean everyone had to break best friends. It was barbaric. One girl in particular was responsible for a lot of the rumours spread that resulted in the inevitable breaking of friends, tears, sleepless nights and snotty tissues. She was expelled in the end. Although at my school it was called being ‘asked to leave.’ Private schools love a euphemism.
Recently I noticed a friend of a friend on Facebook post a photo of herself and the mutual pal together with the label ‘I love my best friend!’ or something similarly twee. It made my blood boil. So territorial, so exclusive to every other friend either woman may have. It’s as rude as not replying to a party invite. Don’t even get me started on that.
The only kind of best friends chat I tolerate in this house is between brothers. Ie/ my sons. I tell them all the time to look after each other, that they’re so lucky to always be best friends etc etc until I feel my voice grow hoarse. Years ago, when my eldest were still in utero, I read that if you tell a child something enough it becomes their reality. So I carry on with my indoctrination of sibling best friendery. It’s working so far. Who knows how long it may last.
These samosas were made by my little boy Max who is almost 3. He did a mighty fine job, brushed the filo, folding the triangles. They’re delicious warm with a stir fry as a ‘fusion supper’ (husband’s words not mine) or cold in lunch boxes. Beware they’re moreish.
One year ago: Apple and blackberry flapjack and Cheatscake
Two years ago: Father Christmas’ Bakewell tart and Chocolate cupcakes and truffle icing
Three years ago: Roasted red tomato soup and Chicken piggy pot pies
Pork, beef and apple samosas
Makes 12
Ingredients:
Make the filling by frying the onion and garlic in the oil until soft on a medium heat in a frying pan. Add the pork and beef and turn the heat up. Fry until browned then turn the heat down and add the crumbled stock cube. Chuck in the mushroom, pepper, carrots, apple, cranberry sauce and black pepper and fry until everything is soft and the carrots and apples are starting to stick to the pan. You basically want a really dry mixture. Remove from the heat and set aside.
Preheat the oven to 200C/gas mark 6 and line two baking trays with non stick paper. Take a square of filo and brush with melted butter then fold in half into a long rectangle. Brush with butter again and place some filling into one corner then fold that end over to make a triangle. Keep folding, using butter as an adhesive until you reach the end of the samsosa and then paint the edges shut using the butter to fold the filo over. This video is very useful if my instructions are lacking.
Repeat for all 12 samosas making sure to pack them tightly then bake in the preheated oven for about 20 minutes or until golden brown and very hot. Be careful if small people are eating them warm as the filling really retains it’s heat.
Pork is my husband’s favourite meat; for a roast, for a stir fry, when in a restaurant – wherever the opportunity for eating pork strikes, he will take it. And perfectly crunchy crackling makes him an even happier bunny. Here’s how.
Recently I met a man, under 30, who used the word razzamatazz. He also used the word jeepers without irony or a hint of self indulgence. I was waiting for him to use ‘moreover’ within a sentence but he left me wanting more on that front. Something for another day perhaps.
It got me thinking about all those words that have fallen out of favour. Old fashioned names have become very popular though I have yet to meet a baby Deidre. A quick poll of Twitter tells me that skedaddle, spiffing, fiddlesticks, dash, smashing, hurrah, cripes, palaver, nincompoop, jolly, crikey and rather worryingly please and thank you are all words that are in danger of extinction. I suggest we all take responsibility for one word each, per week and aim to resurrect these endangered species before it’s too late. Please feel free to add yours to the pile.
Here are some razzamatazz ribs to start us all off. They’re sweet, a little spicy and really very agreeable. Spiffing even.
Ingredients:
– 8 or so handsome looking pork ribs
– Bunch of fresh thyme, squashed up a bit
– 3 tbsp honey
– 3 tbsp dark soy sauce
– 6 cloves of garlic, crushed
– 2 chillis, chopped up roughly with seed
– 1/2 bottle Womersley raspberry and apache chilli vinegar or another white vinegar of your choice
– 1 tbsp cornflour
This is jolly easy. Place the ribs into a baking tray in the morning. Pop all the other ingredients into a jam jar and shake well. Then pour over the ribs, cover in foil and leave in the fridge until about 5 hours before you need them. When you’re ready to go preheat the oven to Gas 1/140C and place, still covered, in the oven, on the middle shelf. Leave for 4 hours.
Remove the grey looking ribs from the oven and turn up the heat to Gas 7/220C. Throw the foil away but keep the sauce. Place the ribs onto a baking sheet and pop at the top of the oven for about 20 minutes until they are crispy around the edges but not burnt. Do keep a good watch of your ribs.
In the meantime strain the marinade through a sieve into a small saucepan and heat on the hob. Once simmering remove a good tablespoon of the sauce and mix in a cup with the cornflour until really smooth. Then add back into the simmering sauce, stirring continually. The sauce should thicken. If it doesn’t do the same again with half a tablespoon more cornflour. If it goes lumpy worry not! Just strain through the sieve again.
Serve the ribs with this sauce either on the side of poured over the top depending which way your guests swing.
P.S. If you wanted to follow the man I mentioned then you would find him @gowen1
Holly Bell 