Nigella Bites (5 page)

Of course you could cook the pancetta or bacon in a frying pan, but why I like using the oven is that it needs no supervision. You can put the pancetta in the oven, put the pasta in the boiling, salted water, go up and run yourself a bath (taking your timer with you) and then come down and just drain and toss and dinner’s made.

And naturally you can use whatever pasta you like, it’s just that linguine (a long pasta that’s wider than spaghetti and thicker than tagliatelle) is my favourite – a good reason, it seems to me, to specify it here.

Serves 2.

2 tablespoons garlic-infused olive oil

250g pancetta

250g linguine

Preheat the oven to 240°C/gas mark 8.

Fill a large saucepan with water and bring to the boil. While it’s heating up, put the garlic olive oil in an ovenproof dish; I use an enamel Le Creuset one, measuring 30 x 20cm. Remove the rind from the pancetta and put it in the dish (to render down: you want as much bacony juices as possible) then dice the rest of the pancetta and add these cubes to the oil, smooshing them about with your fingers to make sure they’re equally, if lightly, coated. When the water’s boiling, put the dish of garlic-oiled pancetta in the oven then salt the boiling water and add the linguine; these should need about 10 minutes to cook. When the pasta’s ready, drain it, reserving a scant cupful of the cooking water and take the pancetta dish out of the oven. Tip the drained linguine into the dish and toss well, adding some of the pasta-cooking water, drop by cautious drop, for lubrication as you need it.

And that’s it: I like this without parmesan, but a sprinkling of roughly scissored parsley, should you feel inclined, is always a good idea.

SALT AND PEPPER SQUID

Just because something’s unfamiliar doesn’t mean it’s hard to cook. OK, I understand that when you think ‘TV dinner’, squid is hardly the first thing to come to mind, but I am asking you to think again. This is unexpectedly easy to shop for as well as easy to cook. Baby squid (better here than tougher, grown-up, windsock-sized ones) can be found, frozen, in 500g boxes, to be stashed in your freezer and thawed as needed. And while any recipe that involves a pestle and mortar can seem like too much kitchen faffing when you get back from work, let me tell you that a bit of murderous bashing can be a great stress-relieving exercise. But if you’re not convinced (and believe me I understand: until recently I had only to read the words ‘pestle and mortar’ to be filled with dread and intimidation) you can always use one of those little electric coffee-bean or spice grinders for blitzing the salt and pepper. Already-ground pepper and fine salt is not an impossible option; I won’t pretend they’ll be as good, but as long as you don’t use that school-pepper-container dust – more sneeze-powder than aromatic spice – it’ll be just fine.

Serves 2.

approx. 500ml groundnut oil (to come about 1cm up in a frying pan)

2 tablespoons Maldon salt

2 tablespoons black peppercorns

75g cornflour

500g baby squid, cut into rings, tentacles left unchopped

lemon for squeezing

Put the oil in a frying pan over a high heat. Bash the salt and peppercorns in a pestle and mortar till a bit more than bruised but not quite pulverised, and combine this mixture in a freezer bag with the cornflour, adding the squid and tossing to coat well but not heavily.

When the oil’s very hot – not quite smoking but nearly – fry the squid (knocking any excess cornflour back in the bag first) in batches (about four, probably) and cook each batch for about a minute or so till just crisp on the outside and still sweet and tender within. You probably won’t need to turn the squid since the oil should bubble up and cook both sides at once, but do if you feel better. Remove to plates lined with kitchen towel. After the squid’s sat for about half a minute, remove the greasy towel – though sometimes, I dispense with this faddy stage – squeeze lemon over and eat with your fingers – quickly.

THAI YELLOW PUMPKIN AND SEAFOOD CURRY

I use the term ‘TV dinners’ loosely. Not everything in this chapter is written with sofa-bound slumping in mind. It’s also a good idea to have something up your sleeve that you can cook quickly, and simply, when you’ve got friends coming over to supper midweek after work. This is that something. Don’t let the length of the list of ingredients put you off. You really could go to the supermarket at lunchtime and buy everything you need. What’s more, most of it keeps: salmon, raw prawns, lime leaves and lemongrass in the deep-freeze (and all but the salmon can be used from frozen); curry paste in the fridge; the coconut milk, fish sauce, fish-stock concentrate and turmeric in the cupboard. In other words, one shopping expedition, many curries.

Yes, the coriander you’ll need to buy fresh (though at a push you could buy a box of already chopped frozen stuff) as you will the pumpkin and pak choi and – give or take – lime, but whatever, you have the base here for a number of curries. Once you’ve cooked this and seen both how simple and how divine it is, you’ll see how you can adapt it for different produce.

You have to have rice with curry and the simplest way to cook this is to get an electric rice cooker. The best part of this is that once you’ve put the rice and water in, the rice cooks itself and – with my model at least – stays warm for 12 hours, so you’re not going to have to do any last-minute timing shenanigans. You just stick the rice on when you get in, and it’ll be fine whatever time people bowl up for dinner. With the same idea in mind, you should know that you can cook the curry up till the part where the pumpkin is tender and then leave it, reheating it later to cook (for all of about 3 minutes) the prawns and salmon. Given that most people are late for dinner when they’re coming after work, this means that you don’t have the dilemma of either leaving something spoiling on the stove or having a frenzied bout of last-minute cooking once they arrive.

I’ve said 1–2 tablespoons of curry paste. This is because pastes vary enormously in their strengths and people vary enormously in their tastes. Some like it hot: I like it very hot – and use 2 tablespoonfuls. But it might be wiser to add 1 tablespoonful first and then taste later, once all the liquid’s in, to see if you want to add more.

One last bossy note: if you can’t get raw prawns, don’t use cooked ones; just double the amount of salmon.

Serves 4–6.

400ml tin coconut milk

1–2 tablespoons yellow (or red) Thai curry paste

350ml fish stock (I use boiling water and a slug of Benedicta Touch of Taste Concentrated Fish Bouillon; cubes would do)

3 tablespoons fish sauce

2 tablespoons palm sugar or caster sugar

3 lemongrass stalks, each cut into three and bruised with the flat of a knife

3 lime leaves, de-stalked and cut into strips

½ teaspoon turmeric

1kg pumpkin (or butternut squash), peeled and cut into large-bite-sized chunks

500g salmon fillet, preferably organic, skinned and cut into large, bite-sized chunks

500g peeled raw prawns

pak choi or any other green vegetables of your choice

juice of ½–1 lime, to taste

coriander, to serve

Skim the thick creamy top off the tin of coconut milk and put it, over medium heat, into a large saucepan or casserole with the curry paste. Let it sizzle and, using a fork, whisk or wooden spoon, beat milk and paste together until combined. Still beating gently, add the rest of the coconut milk, fish stock, fish sauce, sugar, lemongrass, lime leaves and turmeric. Bring to a boil and then add the pumpkin. Cook on a fast simmer until the pumpkin is tender, about 15 minutes, although different sorts of pumpkins can vary enormously in the time they take to cook; some squash take as little as 5 minutes.

As I mentioned, you can cook the curry up till this part in advance, maybe leaving the pumpkin with a tiny bit of bite to it (it will soften and cook as the pan cools). Either way, when you’re about 5 minutes away from wanting to eat, get ready to cook the seafood.

So, to the robustly simmering pan, add the salmon and prawns (if you’re using the prawns from frozen they’ll need to go in before the salmon). When the salmon and prawns have cooked through, which shouldn’t take more than 3–4 minutes, stir in any green veg you’re using – sliced, chopped or shredded as suits – and tamp down with a wooden spoon. When the pak choi’s wilted, squeeze in the juice of half a lime, stir and taste and add the juice of the remaining half if you feel it needs it. Take the pan off the heat or decant the curry into a large bowl, and sprinkle over the coriander; the point is that the coriander goes in just before serving. Serve with more chopped coriander for people to add to their own bowls as they eat, and some plain Thai or basmati rice.

BITTER ORANGE ICE CREAM

I know that suggesting homemade ice cream for an easy after-work supper makes me sound as if I’m going into deranged-superwoman overdrive, but may I put the case for the defence?

All you do to make this is zest and juice some fruit, add icing sugar and cream, whisk and freeze. This requires no stirring or churning and it tastes unlike anything you could buy. So if you’ve got friends coming over for the curry, above, you can serve this for pudding to amazed admiration without giving yourself anything approaching a hard time. I use my KitchenAid, but a cheap handheld electric mixer would do fine; and frankly, a hand whisk wouldn’t kill you.

I first made this with Seville oranges, but since these are available only in January here, it would be unhelpfully restricting to suggest no substitutes out of season (though you could always freeze the oranges, either whole or just their zest and juice). I won’t lie to you and say that my suggested substitutes are quite as magnificent as the original – nothing can provide that biting, aromatic intensity that you get from Seville oranges, which have the taste of orange and the ravaging sourness of lemons – but ordinary eating oranges combined with lime juice provide a glorious tangy and fragrant hit of their own.

Serves 6.

3 Seville oranges or 1 eating orange and 2 limes

175g icing sugar

large pot (584ml) double cream

wafers to serve (optional)

If using Seville oranges, grate the zest of 2 of them. Squeeze the juice of all 3 and pour into a bowl with the zest and sugar. If you’re going for the sweet orange and lime option, grate the zest of the orange and one of the limes, juice them and add to the sugar as before. Stir to dissolve the sugar and add the double cream.

Whip everything until it holds soft peaks, and then turn into a shallow air-tight container (of approximately 2 litres) with a lid. Cover and freeze until firm (from 3 to 5 hours). Remove to ripen for 15–20 minutes (or 30–40 in the fridge) before eating. Serve in a bowl, in cones, with wafers – however you like.

I’d have to go and lie down in a darkened room if I started trying my hand at real party catering, but for children’s birthdays or lazily-peopled gatherings in a summer garden, there’s always food you can do, and that I regularly return to, that actually makes you feel pleased you invited anyone in the first place.

Pigs in Blankets

Lilac-Or Chocolate-Topped Cupcakes

Chocolate Ganache

Bagna Cauda

The Union Square Cafe’s Bar Nuts

Halloumi with Chilli

Spatchcocked Birds

PIGS IN BLANKETS

As far as I know, Pigs in Blankets is a wartime recipe; I first came across it in an old Woman’s Own cookery book of my grandmother’s, but have noticed differing versions of it since. The original I saw was for a chunky parcel – sausages wrapped in a thick potato pastry and then baked, wonderfully true somehow to the evocative title. This is a simplified version made with a fork-mixed cheese scone dough, and a diminutive one, perfectly suited to a children’s birthday party or simply to entertain them in the kitchen.

In fact, I use the cooked pork cocktail sausages from Marks & Spencer’s, partly because cooking, cooling, then wrapping sausages seems a palaver and partly because this way I’m less tempted to eat them myself. Somehow, though, I still manage.

Anyway, children love them, and they are reassuringly easy to make. In fact, there’s nothing about their preparation that even a modestly interested child couldn’t cope with.

Makes 50.

375g self-raising flour

1 heaped teaspoon salt

25g grated Red Leicester cheese (or use Cheddar)

250ml full-fat milk

1 egg

3 tablespoons vegetable oil

1 packet of 50 pork cocktail sausages

to glaze:

1 egg, mixed with a dollop of milk and half a teaspoon of salt

Preheat the oven to 220°C/gas mark 7.

Measure the flour into a bowl, add the salt and grated cheese and mix lightly with a fork. Pour the milk into a measuring jug to come up to the 250ml mark and then crack in the egg and add the oil. Beat to combine, then pour into the dry ingredients, forking to mix as you go. You may, at the end, feel the dough’s either too dry or too damp: add either more milk or more flour and fork together again till you’ve got a soft dough that’s not too sticky to be rolled out.

Break the dough into two pieces and roll the first one out onto a lightly floured surface. Scone dough is a dream to work with; in fact, I find it deeply pleasurable. Just roll as clumsily and heavy handedly as you like: no harm will come to it. You want a thin, but not exaggeratedly so, rectangle. A square wouldn’t be the end of the world either, so don’t start getting out the geometry set: this is the roughest of instructions.

Cut the dough into approximately 4cm strips, and then cut each strip at approximately 6cm intervals so that you end up with a collection of small, raggedy oblongs (I just cut each strip as I go, but it’s probably more efficient to do the whole batch of dough in one go).

Take a cocktail sausage and put it at one end of an oblong at a slight diagonal and then roll up, pressing on the infinitely compliant dough to squeeze it shut, and then place on a non-stick baking sheet, or one lined with parchment. Carry on until you’ve finished all your strips and then get to work with the remaining dough. Three baking sheets should do it.