“Broccoli & Cheese Galette” from “Start Here”

We knew we were off to a good start with this cookbook after we each took one bite of this galette, turned to each other, and said, “F***! This is delicious!!”

I should note that we don’t often use a swear word to describe our meals, but this was a special dish. The puff pastry, which took some time and attention, was perfectly flaky, with each bite bringing more buttery shards in your mouth. On top of the cheddar cheese rough puff pastry sits a cheese sauce (more cheese– always a good thing). On top of that sits a huge pile of broccoli– so huge that I thought, “Is this too much?” but Sohla had foresight to include in the instructions that it will look like too much, but it will cook down.

Now, on to the issue of rough puff pastry. Yes, it takes time. Yes, it’s probably the reason why this recipe is labelled “Advanced.” But honestly, if you can follow instructions, slow down a bit and give it some time and attention, it’s not too bad. For this reason, this was a great thing to make on a lazy Sunday afternoon (on a busy Wednesday night? Not so much.) Crucially, Sohla includes four and a half pages of pictures (let me repeat that– FOUR AND A HALF PAGES OF PICTURES) alongside the instructions. This is incredibly helpful, even for an experienced baker like me. You can look at the pictures and compare whatever you’ve got in front of you to what’s in the cookbook and decide if you’re on the right track. Hardly any cookbooks include process photos like this– instead focussing only on the final product– and I wish more cookbooks did do this, especially for complicated dishes.

One of our favourite pizza toppings is broccoli and cheddar. As I made this throughout the afternoon, I kept saying, “This is going to be like a posh broc and cheddar.” And while that may have been true, this was even better than a posh broc and cheddar. It had the shards of buttery pastry, the sharpness of the cheddar underlay, all buried beneath a mountain of broccoli. Typing this again today is making me want to eat this again as soon as possible.

Truly this was a FTW moment. I am excited for the rest of this month.

“Greek Breads with Spring Onions” from “Mamushka”

More cheese-filled fried bread, do you say?

YES PLEASE, we reply.

Frankly, I was amazed at how easy this was. The dough is a simple flat bread recipe, only needing water, flour and one egg, which comes together quickly and easily. The filling was only crumbled feta cheese and chopped spring onions. To be fair, I studied the photos in the cookbook multiple times to make sure I understood how to fold and fill the bread correctly. But after I had done one successfully, the rest were super easy.

Having learned our lesson from other fried bread and dumplings we’ve already enjoyed from this cookbook, we made sure to prepare some sort of vegetable side dish as a counterweight to all the fried dough goodness. (Cross-post alert! Here’s the review for the cucumber salad, now posted.)

This dish is very much pierogi adjacent, which might be the reason we loved it so much. But it is very doughy. Delicious, but doughy. Toward that end, we had side dishes of kefir or sour cream (depending on preference) to dip the bread. Yum.

All in all, another winner, and one I’ll be adding to the vegetarian rotation.

“Charred Corn, Tomatoes, Halloumi and Chilli Crisp” from “Salad Freak”

One of the challenges of having one vegetarian sitting at the dinner table is trying to find a meal that everyone will love. It’s not a bad thing– like I said, it’s a challenge, which I always welcome– but there are times when it can be difficult.

I’m thrilled to report this was one of the times when we all loved the vegetarian dinner equally.

We’ve been having a Heat Wave (upper case letters very much required) here in the U.K., so there couldn’t have been a better time for a cookbook called “Salad Freak.” I made this on one of the days where the temperature had reached 33C/96F, so limiting my time at the stove wasn’t just an option, it was imperative.

This was bound to be a winner. We all love halloumi. Add summer fresh tomatoes, corn and basil and you’re reaching championship status for a dinner. The twist was drizzling chilli crisp oil over the top. I cheated and used the chilli crisp oil we keep in the pantry at all times rather than making it myself. (Did I mention we’re in a Heat Wave? I was trying my best to limit my time in the kitchen.) The chilli crisp oil pulled it all together to make something really wonderful.

The other modification that I had to make was with the corn. Jess wants you to char the corn still in its husks, but the corn I bought came without the husks. (Ah, for the days of my American childhood, where this time of year featured regular trips to the farm to get fresh corn. Delicious.) So I ended up sautéing the corn instead, in a bit of butter and sunflower oil, and then adding loads of salt and pepper to it. It wasn’t quite the same as the charred corn she was prescribed, but needs must, and all that. It didn’t matter. It was still delicious.

We all loved this vegetarian salad, and I expect I’ll be making it again very, very soon.

“Paneer Tikka” from “Crave”

Our love for paneer cheese is steadfast. So steadfast, in fact, that in our regular rotation of dinners is the Dishoom paneer dish, “Mattar Paneer.” Sure, making the tomato-onion relish that’s required as a base does take an afternoon, but it is very much worth it. Also worth noting: the recipe also yields twice as much as you need, so you can have another, much less labour intensive Mattar Paneer in the near future.

So when I saw this recipe, in which the time requirement was significantly less than our beloved Mattar Paneer, I was very enthusiastic. I’m sure that it will surprise no one reading this that it originates from the “Spiced and Curried” section in the cookbook. It did not disappoint.

As I was pulling together the spices I needed for the marinade, I saw that it required amchur (mango powder), and I figured I would just have to skip over that. But glory be! Tim told me that the Dishoom spice assortment that I gave him for Christmas actually contained amchur, so I could include it after all. (And I do think it added something special to the dish, so I’m glad I didn’t skip it.)

In the end, it was absolutely delightful. Everyone asked if we could have it again, and soon. One small caveat: even with our oven well and truly warmed up, roasting the skewers took longer than the 10 minutes. Your mileage may vary, as they say, but I would say it took closer to 14 minutes to give the paneer that truly charred look.

Also, the coriander and mint chutney was super easy to make, and I whizzed it up in the food processor while the cheese was luxuriating in the marinade. Next time I will make double; we didn’t have nearly enough as we all hoovered it up.

Another winner from Ed Smith.

PS: And yes, we’re still loving our Dishoom Sundays. Truly one of the best legacies of our many lockdowns in 2020 and 2021.

A Return to “Pasta al Ragu” from “Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat” during Lockdown 2020

When I first tested this recipe, way back in [pauses to check A Cookbook A Month archives] April 2018, I questioned the ingredient list that appeared to call for two pieces of citrus zest (one lemon, one orange) that were 28 centimetres by 8 centimetres big. I mean, what? I say again: WHHHAAATTT?? Talk about genetically modified fruits.

After I shared my befuddlement, readers around the world consulted their own books to see what their versions said. In the end, we decided it was a typo in this edition. One US version called for an 11-inch strip of zest, which would get you to 28 cm, so that makes a kind of sense– except when you question what the proofreader was doing. But then another American reader said her version called for one piece of 1-inch wide and 3-inches long. Mystery solved.

But putting aside our qualms about the proofreading, this is an excellent recipe. So when a comment on the original post popped up again, it inspired us to make it again. As I pointed out, and is still true now, that even though this sauce takes all afternoon to make, we’ve got nothing but time at the moment, so we might as well eat some delicious food. That seems to be our mantra of Lockdown 2020.

So we made it again. Was it still delicious? Was it ever. The eagle-eyed among you might notice that the pasta above is also homemade. (Can you tell that? Probably not. But I assure you that it was.) We’ve decided that making sourdough bread has turned into a 2020 cliche, so we’ve started making our own pasta. (When I say “We” it truly is the royal we, because this is a project that Tim has undertaken with gusto.) We used some of the leftover sauce to stuff raviolis later that week, which were also sublime.

Highly recommended sauce. Like so much good food, it takes a fair amount of time, but it’s worth every second.

I wanted to try to find a link to the recipe but none are available, so instead I will encourage you to watch Samin’s Netflix series, “Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat,” based on this cookbook.

“Stuffed Greek Chicken with Cayenne, Oregano and Orzo” from “From the Oven to the Table”

This is one of those magical recipes that makes you wonder, “Why didn’t I think of that?”

It is undeniable that Roast Chicken is DA BOMB. (I could try to find a better way to describe it, but why should I when that perfectly captures how I feel about it.) I will never tire of it and frankly I will try every variation possible until the cows come home.

This version features double carbs. You read that right: DOUBLE CARBS. The bread stuffing with tomatoes and feta, and the orzo pasta that you add in the final 20 minutes. Diana Henry’s absolutely genius idea– the one I was sorry I didn’t think of first– was to add the orzo pasta to the roasting pan along with some chicken stock. The pasta then soaks up all the delicious chicken roasting juices. This idea, one that requires minimal intervention from the cook, is just brilliant.

You may have guessed by now that we loved it, and you are correct. In the introduction, Diana Henry recommends enjoying this dish for a spring Sunday lunch as you “contemplate the approaching summer.” We did the reverse and enjoyed it for an autumn lunch, where we reminisced about the now-gone summer. It was perfect.

“Seared Tuna with Tomato, Bean and Avocado Relish” from “Sight, Smell, Touch, Taste, Sound”

This dish comes from the “Appearance” section of the book, where she suggests how something looks influences how people taste. This theory held out when I brought this dish to the table, when all assembled gasped and said, “Wow– that looks delicious.”

I’m happy to report that this tasted as good as it looked.

There were lots of things to like about this dish, too. It was good for you (loads of vegetables), it was relatively easy to make (I’ll get to that in a minute) and it was super yummy (pretty sure that’s a technical term). I will definitely be making this again.

I’ve got a few notes, though. Sybil Kapoor wants you to peel all of the cherry tomatoes– all 1 pound of them. I’m not really sure it was worth the time, because that was definitely the most time-consuming part of the whole dish. Did all the effort make the dish substantially better? I’d say no. I would deseed the tomatoes, though, because it helped my tomato-hating husband like the dish even more.

One of the good things about this dish was that you don’t need a lot of tuna, since you slice the tuna steak and put it over the whole platter. I didn’t think I had enough tuna, but it turned out there was plenty for everyone. It’s a classic trip of making a little go a long way.

Finally, I think this relish would work with a lot of other fish too (like salmon or trout), so I can see this being a repeat guest star for our Fish Fridays.

This dish definitely was For The Win (FTW).

Two Pasta Dinners from “Jamie Cooks Italy”

To the surprise of no one, this cookbook, which has Italy in the title, is very strong on its pasta dishes. I mean, I would expect nothing less, though history has shown us here at Cookbook a Month that not all cookbooks deliver what they promise. In this case, at least, Jamie in Italy knows how to cook pasta.

We loved both these dinners. Roll on Jamie.

Sausage Linguine: As previously discussed, anything in this house that has the addition of pork products– be it bacon, sausage or otherwise– is a winner. For this recipe, you fry up a sausage, then add tenderstem broccoli, garlic, anchovies, chilli flakes and small glass of white wine. Toss linguine into the pan once cooked and then sprinkle cheese over the top (of course). Perfection.

Bucatini Amatriciana: This is also delicious. Essentially, you fry pancetta, add a sliced red onion, smash up a can of plum tomatoes, stir it into spaghetti and then eat. As Andrew is now in charge of cooking for himself at university, I’m going to send this recipe to him. It’s delicious, it’s quick, it’s easy: the holy grail of student/new cooks everywhere. Dinner FTW.

The fact that I could simplify both of these recipes into one sentence each is a real plus in my book. Don’t get me wrong– multi-page recipes have a time and a place, too, but it’s usually not on a weeknight when I’m trying to get dinner ready fast. Both will be winging their way into Andrew’s inbox. We’ll see if he actually makes them.

In the meantime, we can add these to the FTW weeknight dinner rotations.

“Fried Chicken” from “Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat”

Stress levels were high, due to Andrew’s upcoming A-levels, which all kick off in a few short weeks, so I did the one thing I knew would help: make all of Andrew’s favourite foods.

Thus, we found ourselves on a recent night having fried chicken (yum), cowboy rice (yum), tenderstem broccoli (yum), with all of it finished off with a flourish featuring Ruby Tandoh’s chocolate cake (triple yum).

We didn’t have proper fried chicken in our house growing up on the East Coast of the U.S., though I’m sure that’s down to the fact that we didn’t live in the South (where it’s a mainstay) and/or the fact that my dad is not a huge fan of fried chicken. When we did have it, my mom made it using crushed up potato chips and then baking it in the oven, which is fried chicken of a sort, but not proper fried chicken.

This method is proper fried chicken, where I even got to use my candy thermometer to gauge the temperature of the oil (I’m always happy to dig out one of my gadgets to justify its existence). Samin also advises you to either cut a whole chicken into eight pieces or bone about 12 chicken things. I didn’t get to the butcher in time to do either of those things (though Samin says you should do this yourself), so I looked in vain at the supermarket for boned thighs before concluding that you eat fried chicken on the bone in the U.S. so we’ll do the same thing here.

The recipe also gives you an option to make a spicy oil and brush the chicken with it once it’s fried. The adults at the table did this, and while it was interesting, it didn’t make it demonstrably better– mainly because the fried chicken on its own was out-of-this-world delicious.

We even had some leftover, so I was able to enjoy some cold fried chicken (which is a delicacy in and of itself) the next day for lunch. Yum. Yum. Yum.

Did my stress relief strategy for my teenager work? Did it ever. Do I think I’ll be making a lot more fried chicken (and other foods) between now and the end of June? Indeed yes. But making Andrew’s favourite foods is playing to my strengths, so I’m happy to keep doing it. Whatever works.

“Pasta al Ragu” from “Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat”

Really, this is just a fancy meat sauce for pasta, but oh my goodness, this was so good that this cookbook has already paid for itself in good eating just in this one recipe alone.

Like all good long-and-slow recipes– it took about four hours in all– it was bit of a faff up front, especially with all the chopping for the soffritto. But it was utterly worth it. I was surprised to see that the chopped up onions, carrots and celery and almost disappeared into the meat sauce by the time it was done cooking. The long and slow method also enabled all of the ingredients to really get to know one another to become one delicious unit.

However, and this is a biggie, I need to add a caveat: I really was utterly confused by the size of the citrus zest required. It said I needed a 28cm by 8 cm strip of zest– one of lemon, another of orange. I’m sure it was a typo. At least, I hope it was a typo. How in the world would I be able to get a lemon or orange that size? (Spoiler alert: I couldn’t.) I did look high and low on the Internet for some sort of clarification or correction on this, but couldn’t find anything. In the end, I cut about eight strips of zest off of both a lemon and an orange. It certainly seemed to work, though I’d still like to know how much I really need.

This does reintroduce the question of what happens when a book has a typo. I know it’s been tested and edited and proofread, but hey, mistakes happen. But in this day and age, you’d think the publisher would be able to put out some sort of notice somewhere. When Gizzi Erskine had a typo for her Black Velvet Cake in “Gizzi’s Healthy Appetite”, she put a correction on her Instagram account. For me, the correction came too late and the cake was an utter disaster, but at least the correction was out there.

That problem aside, this was utterly amazing. Sure, it took about four hours, which is not the sort of time commitment you can make on a weekday afternoon. But on a rainy Saturday, it was the perfect thing to have bubbling away on the stove while we got on with other things. (Some of us watched the Master’s. Some of us went to the pub. I’ll leave it to you to decide what I did.) Also, we had enough leftovers to have it again, though I did have to bulk it up a bit with a can of chopped tomatoes.

Sure, there are loads of other beef sauce recipes out there that can be done easier and quicker. But they couldn’t possibly be better than this. We thought it was perfection. Highly recommended.

A Question for our American Readers who have this book: Can you please check the recipe that’s in your addition? Anne from Australia said that in her edition it calls for the same zest measurements, but she guessed– and I agree– that perhaps they ran into problems when they converted it to metric. So I’d be curious to hear what it says in the U.S. book. I’ll post the answer here if anyone has it. Thank you!