a Provencal dessert MADE FROM CHARD...

Excuse the shouting. I just wanted to make sure you sat up.

It's a dessert.

And it's made from chard. Well, and pastry, too, and a few other things. But it's the chard that makes it.

It turns out like this:

And you can move in for that all-important close-up here:

actually, that's less close up than the first photo. Darn it. Anyway, moving on...

But. A dessert?

No, I couldn't decide whether someone was having me on or not, either. So the only thing to do was to have a go at it and decide for myself.

And you know what? It's actually very good. It IS a dessert. A pretty amazing one, too. And I reckon that with all that chard in it, you can claim that it's healthy as well.

So here you have it - one healthy tart for dessert. Make it and amaze your friends and mother-in-law. I was given the recipe from the cat-sitter, who got it from a magazine, but I don't know which one because the photocopy I've got has cut off the bottom of the page... If anyone recognises the recipe, please let me know and I'll be happy to give proper credit. Absolutely no copyright infringement intended.

Provencal swiss chard tart (serves 6)

Olive oil pastry
380g plain flour
sea salt
150ml olive oil
2 med egg yolks

Filling
Slug of cider or white wine vinegar
400g swiss chard
2tbsp olive oil
40g pine nuts
30g caster sugar
200g young creamy goat's cheese or curd
1 tbsp lemon juice
40g raisins
optional icing sugar for dusting

Egg glaze
I med egg yolk
1 tbsp milk

For the pastry:
Place flour and pinch of salt in the bowl of a food processor, trickle in the olive oil with the motor running, and then add the 2 yolks. Give the dough a stir - it will be crumbly at this point. Now trickle in enough cold water to bring the dough together (about 70 ml), stopping the motor when it starts to cling together in lumps. Wrap dough in clingfilm and chill for at least an hour.

At the same time, prepare filling. Bring a large pan of salted water to the boil and add a slug of vinegar. Trim the ends of the chard stalks and thinly slice the stems and leaves. Add both to the pan, bring back to the boil, and simmer for 3 mins. Drain into a colander, gently press out excess water + set aside to steam dry for a few mins.

Heat 2tbsp oil in a large frying pan over a medium heat, add pine nuts and fry until lightly coloured, then remove to a bowl. Add the chard to the pan and fry for a couple of minutes until starting to colour. Stir in the sugar and a pinch of salt, blend in the goat's cheese, then add the lemon juice and mix in the pine nuts and raisins. Leave to cool.

Preheat oven to 180C/160C fan/350F/gas 4. Have ready a large baking sheet.

Roll out 2/3rds of the pastry on a lightly floured worktop and cut out a circle 27cm in diameter. Roll our the remaining third of the pastry and cut a circle 20cm in diameter.

Place the large circle on a baking sheet. Spread the filling to within 3-4cm of the rim (to cover the same area as the smaller circle). Score the smaller circel with a few cuts radiating from the centre and lay it on top of the filling. To finish, combine egg yolk + milk. Brush the edge of the bottom circle with the egg glaze and fold the edge over the top circle to seal the pie. Brush pie all over with more glaze and bake for 30 mins. Serve at room temperature, dusted with icing sugar if wished.

EAT IT!!

the best meal in Scotland... and Scottish wine

Well, I'm back from holiday - 2 weeks amidst the most stunning scenery by Loch Tay in Perthshire, and the East Neuk coastline in Fife. Scotland is such a gem, it really is. Andy Murray's not bad, either. ;-)

And there are some real food highlights, too. If you wander (well, ok then - if you drive) along the East Neuk coast, you'll come to the pretty little fishing village of Anstruther.

It looks something like this...

... and this...

And in amongst the shops on the shoreline, you'll find this:

You might not be able to make out the wording on the white sign on the left there, but it says "Winner. Fish and Chip Shop of the Year, 2008-09, United Kingdom". Yes, really. The UK's best fish and chips in this wee little corner of Scotland.

So it had to be done, didn't it?

And, oh my, they were VERY GOOD indeed. The fish was haddock - a unique type which is found only off the coast here, and which is smaller, sweeter, and altogether more succulent than other haddock fished and served up elsewhere in the UK. The batter was so light, it was almost tempura-like. Fantastic. The Other Diner and I agreed - this really was The Best Fish and Chips Ever. And we've had a few.

What's even better is that you can wash it all down with some wine. Scottish wine. Yes, you read that right:

It's one of those other Scottish gems. Little known, but certainly worth knowing. The oak leaf wine bears a passing resemblance to retsina, but is more, well, winey, and less piney.

All in all, a damn fine meal on a gorgeous day (see, it doesn't always rain in Scotland; and the temperature that day was about 25C), in a beautiful part of the world.

So where will you be going on your holiday next year, hmm???

For the avoidance of doubt, the Scottish Tourist Board are not paying me to write this. Although I'm open to offers. ;-)

a little piggy... and a special bar of chocolate

I have always loved food. I was especially known for it at university, where my passion for puddings in particular was, erm, legendary. (Perhaps I should rename this blog?) As a result, the p-i-g word was sometimes bandied around by my dear friends from time to time. I exacted my revenge by swiping their desserts. And no, nobody took offence. Those were the days. Happy, innocent, student days.

These days, I can't eat the quantities I used to, so I focus on the quality instead. (No sniggering at the back there, please.) And for those of you who have been following this blog for a while (thank you, btw), you'll know that great chocolate has been my most recent obsession.

So it won't come as any surprise to you to learn that I've been back to lovely Rococo again, this time for a 'learn how to make the best chocolate mousse ever' workshop. And I did.

The stupid thing is that I didn't take my camera. Which was all the more stupid given that Rococo's owner, and goddess of all things chocolate, Chantal Coady, and I got into a conversation about pocket digital cameras and macro lenses.

But anyway...

I came away, having had another great time, with 2 tubs full of mousse - one made with dark chocolate and eggs, and the other made with milk chocolate and cream. Both delicious in their different ways, with very different textures to boot. I also got a quick lesson from Laurent (Prof Choc) in how to make accompanying almond tuiles, and took a tub of my tuile 'mix' from the day home, too. At some point in the next few weeks, I shall organise a chocolate-pudding guzzling party, and get the whole lot out. I shall, of course, be the only invitee. ;-)

But no visit to Rococo is complete without taking away some chocolate.

So, to fit the mood, I bought...

Apt, no?

And the bar in the foreground? Well, that's something very special indeed. Let me show you just how special...

Arguably more appropriate at Christmas, but some things just aren't worth being pedantic about.

I should really add a rave review at this point, but I haven't had the chance to try it yet. But I will, I promise. Soon. And I'll let you know.

In the meantime, there'll be a slight pause here. I'm off on holiday for a couple of weeks, and won't have access to technology.

But I'll be back as soon as I'm back. If you see what I mean.

AFoS xx

warm broad bean, chorizo and courgette salad - the stuff of summer...

I keep getting this seasonal food stuff wrong. I get out salad - it rains. I make curry - it's blazing hot.

And so it proved again with this dish.

'It's June', I thought. 'Time for warm salads, packed with my favourite summer veg and herbs! And a bottle of chilled white boozy stuff! Hell, we might even eat al fresco!'

But whoever decideth the weather said NO. You shalt not have sun. You shall not even have warmth. You shalt have a typical English summer's day. Damp, cold, and windy. But you're going to have to go ahead with your salad now anyway, 'cos you've bought the stuff for it.

'Fine', I said. So I madeth my warm salad. And lo, it was good.

It's one of my not-really-a-recipe 'recipes', but more a put-some-yummy-things-together ensemble.

So - saute some courgettes on a very low heat for about 20 mins until softened and slightly caramlised. Meanwhile, in a separate pan, fry off some chorizo (no need to add oil for this - the chorizo has plenty of its own) until cooked through and beginning to catch. Put to one side.

When the courgettes are nearly ready, add a couple of cloves of garlic to the pan, and continue sauteeing until the garlic is cooked through. Next, throw some new season broad beans into some hot water, bring to boil, and keep them on a rolling boil for about 3 minutes. Drain. There's really no need to skin them when they're this young and small.

Chop a generous handful of mint, basil, and lemon thyme. Add to the courgettes. Finally, add the broad beans and chorizo to the courgettes and garlic. Season. Add a glug of your best olive oil.

Serve with anything you like. On this occasion, I opted for buttered and minted Jersey royals, plus tomatoes and lettuce from the garden (yay!). Not necessarily a classic combo, but it was all very tasty anyhow (even if we did have to eat it inside), so who cares?

yes, that IS a bottle of chilled white.

mmm... chorizo and broad beans...

Who says it isn't summer?

a tour of the garden... and the first leaves of summer

I will get over myself soon, I promise. But I'm just loving watching all the herbs and veggies grow in the meantime. If there's one big tangible positive from all the credit crunch stuff, it's that lots of people, like me, are rediscovering the joys of growing your own. Long may it continue. The joys of growing your own, that is - not the credit crunch, obvy.

You've seen the veggies. Now, enter stage left - the herbs:

a mess of thyme, nasturtiums, rosemary, and lovage. More about the lovage soon.

And right on their tail, (l-r), the invisible (as yet) spring onions, radishes, and sorrel:

For the keen-eyed, behind are (l-r) lemon thyme, straggly chives, and mint.

And while we're at it, a quick check on the monster courgettes/aspiring triffids:

I swear they're growing about 10cm a day. Mostly when I'm not looking.

And a glance at the veg patch again, 'cos I'm just showing off now:

(l-r) lettuce, lollo rosso, chard, cauliflower, leeks, parsnips, more lettuce (don't ask), and calabrese

And then, at last, the first leaves of summer, with some vine tomatoes, and topped very simply with a cold roast leg of chicken:

No, the chicken didn't come from the garden.

Yes, I know - nothing flash at all about that. I just wanted to properly taste the lettuce. And you know what? It was bl**dy good, even though I say so myself. Young, succulent leaves - from soil to plate in less than five minutes. Served with a bowl of home-made, home-baked chips (yes, I forgot to put them in the picture. I was in a hurry, ok?). What could be more perfect?

Bottle of chilled white, anyone?

it really IS summer...

... and things are going a bit nuts in the garden...

A couple of weeks ago, just puny little seedlings. Now, a bit of warmth, sunshine, and the odd watering later...

l-r: lollo rosso, chard, unnamed (I forget) lettuce, calabrese. Somewhere in the middle, but somehow managing to avoid being snapped on camera, is some cauliflower. Oh, and some leeks. Honest.

l-r: parsnips, courgettes

tomatoes and chilli plants

For someone who's never grown anything since mustard and cress in primary school, this is all a bit of a revelation to me. Slow learner, y'see.

And now, suddenly, I find myself looking forward to the prospect of home-grown salads, and various other seasonal veg, plus endless herbs (another photo, another time), and chillis. Fab. I can hardly wait.

The only blot on the horizon is that we booked to go away for 2 weeks in the middle of June. Which is usually a good thing. Now, I'm worrying that there won't be anything worth eating by the time we get back, and that weeds and triffids will have taken over in our absence....

when only chocolate will do...

Y'know, we were promised a hot summer. Really. The Meteorological Office said so.

And I quote:

"The coming summer is 'odds on for a barbecue summer', according to long-range forecasts. Summer temperatures across the UK are likely to be warmer than average and rainfall near or below average for the three months of summer.... Chief Meteorologist at the Met Office, Ewen McCallum, said: "After two disappointingly-wet summers, the signs are much more promising this year. We can expect times when temperatures will be above 30 °C, something we hardly saw at all last year."

Which would be why, outside my window, it's throwing it down with rain and blowing an absolute gale. I'm not exactly sitting here in my bikini, either.

Pah.

So - what to do?

Chocolate. A big whopper of a cup of the hot liquid stuff. That'll do for now. Preferably this one:

I had this during my trip to Deal, on the Kent coast. It was, simply, the best cup of hot chocolate or cocoa I've ever tasted. Fabulous, wonderful, lovely, unctuous stuff.

And served at one of the loveliest chocolate shops I've ever been to - Sara's Chocolates, on Middle Street. It's cute, quaint, quirky and homely all in one. And run by the bundle of gregarious energy, Sara herself, who will happily tell you all you want to know, and more, about chocolate.

If you're ever down that way, do pop in. It'll be good for your soul and your sanity, though not necessarily for your waistline or arteries. But when chocolate is this good, who the hell cares?