Thursday 6 May 2021

A year! Also a recipe.

Somehow it's been a year since I last wrote in this! I don't understand how that is possible. I'm almost 37. Good god. Equally bizarre and unexpected this time last year: we're STILL in lockdown. It's opening up a bit now, but only a bit, and by the end of May we'll be able to meet inside, six people at a time. I now live in Hampstead, with my friend Rachel, in a very very beautiful flat with a balcony that overlooks a trainline (a pretty trainline). Our neighbours are all old and rich and a bit mad - the woman owning the basement flat built herself a swimming pond last year, where three ducks now live. You might remember a brief mention of a man called Lenny last year (Leonard Cohen, unfortunately), and I'm still with him. In a proper, happy relationship. It just keeps getting nicer - it's the opposite of how it felt with Oli. Still in the same job - though happily Netflix helped us out rather by doing a series of one of the authors I publish, which became very very famous over a locked-down Christmas, and is now Netflix's most watched series ever. As a result the end of last year and the beginning of this were ridiculously busy, but also we have made all our money for the year, which is a bit of a relief.    

I've continued to cook lots and lots, now also for Lenny, and I'm getting a bit fascinated with medieval recipes (or 'receipts' as they were apparently called then), thanks to a delicious cured meats box called 'Crown and Queue' and the lady who runs the company. She makes British cured meats according to recipes from years ago that we've forgotten, and they are delicious. Also this site: http://www.foodsofengland.co.uk/magicmenu.htm and its terribly produced book, are both fascinating. I've been wondering if it might be possible to write a book. Something like 'The Lost Recipes of England: reclaiming the food secrets we've forgotten', recreating some of the recipes and explaining how we ended up thinking that France was some sort of culinary god, whilst we were a tasteless wasteland, when actually a lot of the most famously 'French' recipes (eg butter-emulsified sauces) were actually English inventions. Feels like something that might sell in a post-Brexit Britain (oh yes, that's still going on also).  

Medieval(ish) Lettuce Soup, serves two

Ingredients

500 ml good chicken stock  

A whole lettuce, plus any other salad leaves you might have lying around (I used some lambs leaf lettuce that we're growing with mixed success on the very windy balcony).

Two carrots, peeled and chopped into small chunks (about an inch or so - soupsized)

One medium, white onion, finely chopped

Half tsp of ground cloves

Half tsp of ground nutmeg

Half tsp of white pepper

Pinch of saffron

Handful of dried mushrooms (I used chantarelles but anything would do - chop them up a bit first if they're too big for a soup spoon)

A lump of fresh ginger smashed up a bit (yes this isn't really medieval but I just can't with dried ginger. It's weird. It smells weird and medicinal and I don't like it except in ginger cake)

A knob of butter (optional)

A dash (capful) of light vinegar - I used hawthorne but cider or white wine vinegar would do. Malt would be too harsh (steer clear or only use a very light smidgeon), and balsamic a bit sweet, (though could add a bit of salt to balance if need be)

Salt and pepper to taste

Method

Chop the lettuce up roughly so it can fit in a saucepan, then put it in boiling water for 30 seconds, drain it and run it under cold water to stop it cooking any further. Squeeze out some of the water - you're aiming for a damp, collapsed sort of texture (mmm delicious). Chop it finely and leave on the side.  

Pour the stock into the same saucepan you blanched the lettuce in (for no reason other than to save on washing up), bring to a boil, add the spices, the dried mushrooms, the saffron, the smashed ginger, the onion and the carrot. Reduce heat to a simmer and let it simmer for about 20 minutes, or until the carrots are mostly soft but still have a little bit of texture to bite into. Fish out the ginger. Turn the heat right down and add the lettuce. Let it warm through, then take it off the heat and taste it. 

Do you like it? Do you fancy a bit of richness to it? Add the butter and stir through fairly vigorously to emulsify if so, otherwise skip this step. Taste it again. Does it need a bit more salt? Add some. Taste it. Does it need a bit of sharpening/a touch of acidity? Add a bit of vinegar if so (think of it like a squeeze of lemon). Taste it. Do you like black pepper? Add lots, it goes well with this soup. Taste it again and serve with good bread, well buttered.