Go Ahead Honey it's Gluten Free! Canapes.

Spring has started to creep almost imperceptibly closer this week. I cut a bunch of early daffodils for a friend and noticed that buds were forming on the trees, luminescent with newness. Mornings are milder, evenings lighter and birds cluster on the telephone wire chatting like a string of old women.

Suddenly the comforting soups and stews, slow roasted meat and crumbles of winter seem a little heavy. I long for something piquant, zesty and fresh to pop into my mouth. We're not quite into salad season yet here but my body craves for something light and cleansing to brush out the cobwebs and air the house.

So this month's theme for Go Ahead Honey! is Canapes. Those delicious flavoursome morsels that can be consumed in a single mouthful. Who but the sourest curmudgeon can fail to be delighted by a something that owes everything to delicacy and not even a nod to the concept of filling or stodgy.

Care must be taken over a canape, the delicate balance of softness and crunch, sour and sweet or salt and heat must be closely observed. A surgeon's touch and painter's eye are required to ensure that the finished mouthful looks like an edible jewel.

With all this in mind, canapes are a wonderful chance to let your imagination run riot and choose ingredients that would be too costly or overwhelming on a larger scale. A little truffle oil, smoked duck breast or enoki mushroom can really shine when you treat it with such respectful economy.

Canapes can be sweet too. Why not serve up a number of courses, all in tiny portions? A minute birds nest meringue or tiny cupcake can be completely enchanting - and offer the opportunity to eat more than one dessert in a sitting. Surely an alluring prospect?

The rest is up to you. Make just one kind of canape or a whole smorgasbord, sweet or savoury, just as you like. Write about it and hopefully provide a recipe and a gorgeous picture for us all to salivate over. Email me the link by the 25th of March (also my birthday as it happens) and pop by for a delicious soiree here at the end of the month. 

I'm salivating already!

A Cake Stand and a Cocktail

This is my contribution for this month's Go Ahead Honey it's Gluten Free. The theme is Sweets for my Sweetheart. Hosted by the amazing Kelly at The Spunky Coconut. I guess it's a late ode to that most overblown of commercial holidays, Valentines Day.

Every year we look for heart shaped things to give and sugar coated trinkets to convey to those we love that we, well....just love them I guess. 

Every year I tell myself that I won't buy into all that enforced romance or expect flowers and sweet nothings. Yet as the day draws near I find myself hoping that Nick has been overcome with the need to prove his love to me in a flowery way, or spent long hours unseen with a quill, scratching out passionate stanzas in a garret, wearing a billowing flounced shirt and looking at once slightly wasted with TB and yet terribly handsome and wistful.

Because somewhere in all of us lurks the need to be adored, to show the world that we love and are loved in return. Yet the distillation of all this expectation into one little day can crush the fragile tissue of romantic feeling, by squeezing the spontaneity out of it.

This year I decided to speak plainly about my desire to be celebrated on valentines day and told Nick that I really (I mean, really) like ranunculus flowers and wouldn't be at all upset if he bought me that vintage rose glass cake stand we saw in a new second hand shop. Then I left the outcome in the hands of fate, wrote my own valentine poem and made a little felt badge to give to Nick on the day.

Yet every day when I cycled through town I would glance into the shop and see my cake stand still there, un-purchased by Nick. Ah well, I thought indulgently - he's a busy man. By Friday with one day to go, I saw the cake stand in the window and felt a little sigh escape. Still, I told myself that Nick loved me every day, not just on Valentine's, I should count myself lucky to be so fortunate in my choice of husband.

Valentine's morning broke with Finley's appearance at the bedroom door, barely suppressing a huge amount of seasonal excitement. When myself and Nick finally made it to the kitchen, looking less than polished, he handed us each a heart shaped piece of paper initiating a valentines treasure hunt - the prize for which was ten hugs and kisses each. On the wipe board was written the legend, 'happy valoom times day Naomi and Nick! x x x'.

When I had presented my felt badge and poem wrapped in pink tissue and ribbon, I turned expectantly to Nick. He passed me a flat package that most definitely did not contain a cake stand or flowers. In it was a hand made card bearing a picture of a cake stand. Feeling like Eeyore and trying not to show it, I propped up the card in a prominent place and we had a three way hug that started with me kissing Nick and ended with Finley somehow smooshed in between us with his small cold hands on our backs.

Later, Nick disappeared into town for a while saying something about going to the office. On his return he produced a round looking object wrapped haphazardly in white paper and set it in front of me with a rakish smile, while his eyes danced behind their fringe of black lashes. 

Not only had he been to the shop six times that week, each time finding it closed, he had looked for ranunculus and found that they were out of season and couldn't be got for another few weeks.

My heart leapt at the thought that all week, somewhere in the back of his mind Nick had been thinking about me and what I would like for Valentine's day. I felt more cherished than if I had been woken with breakfast, flowers and a serenade.

That evening we sank our teeth into some delicious local ribeye steak, sweet, crisp squash chips and handfuls of dark leaves to mop up the juices.

When Fin was in bed I made this cocktail, because I had been doing my own bit of cherishing as the days ticked down to Valentine's and we were now the proud owners of three different kinds of aromatic bitters, orange, peychauds and angostura. Nick has a very special feeling for anejo tequila and the old fashioned really does it justice.

Even if you think you don't like tequila, you might be persuaded by this one. Grapefruit peel gives the drink a sherbet scent, like a breath of summer each time you raise your glass. Orange bitters lend a floral, cardamom note that flirts with the smokey, woody hit of aged tequila. Peychaud's bitters give a subtle aniseed and coriander warmth that sings with grapefruit - and turns your drink a little pink! Agave syrup sweetens the whole thing up, making it easy to drink, but not nursery-ish (for the SCD version, use honey in place of agave syrup - orange blossom honey is good).

It was sweet but not too sweet, for my sweetheart, for my soul's reflection. How could I ever have doubted you?

Anejo Old Fashioned (with SCD version) makes 1 drink

Double Measure (50ml) Anejo Tequila (Herradura or Conmemorativo)

2 dashes orange bitters

2 dashes peychauds bitters

1/2 - 3/4 tsp agave syrup

Long Strip of Grapefruit Zest and one small extra bit - no bitter pith

1 rocks glass (tumbler)

Place your rocks glass in the freezer to chill and measure alcohol, bitters and agave or honey into another glass with the grapefruit peel. Stir until the syrup/honey has dissolved.

Get your glass out of the freezer and half fill with ice, adding the grapefruit peel to the glass attractively as you go. Wipe the spare bit around the rim of the glass to flavour it.

Pour in your drink and add more ice if you think it needs it - or take some out if it won't all fit.

Alternatively, make it as a martini, swirling the drink and ice in a shaker (don't shake!) and straining into a martini glass with a curl of grapefruit peel in it.

Sip slowly, gazing into the eyes of the one you love (or at George Clooney etc). If you follow SCD don't drink more than one of these in an evening and definitely don't attempt until your symptoms are well under control, 6-9 months into the diet. The bitters are not strictly legal unless you actually make them yourself because they have a small amount of caramel colour in them, but in my opinion two dashes is not really anything to worry about if you're at the stage of tolerating alcohol.

For the round up of this month's 'Go Ahead Honey it's Gluten Free!' pop over to the Spunky Coconut at the end of the month.

Half Term

Yesterday evening the phone rang just as myself, Finley and two muddy friends tumbled in the front door and cast off our coats and shoes. It was Nick's mother calling to check that everything was ok, because I hadn't posted anything for almost two weeks. I was able to reassure her instantly that we were all perfectly fine, but had been somewhat preoccupied with half term and the endless possibilities it offered.

Why just that very day we had solved the rubiks cube from scratch (using a fantastic online tutorial), driven down to Lyme Regis to play mini golf with said friends, who then spent at least half an hour rolling down a very steep hill giggling helplessly, whilst I gazed over Lyme bay at the seagulls thronged around a homecoming day boat and the mist rolling in as the sun headed for the horizon. A little splashing and digging later we were back in the car, flushed with high spirits and heading home for pork roasted with aniseed and garlic, buttery pea puree and handfuls of peppery rocket and mild spinach. Yes, everything is just fine Granny Jane!

I have been cooking, just not recording so much. There are recipes in the pipeline, but for now, I'll give you a little taste of what we have been eating this last week and promise you that I will have a somewhat belated post for this month's, 'Go Ahead Honey it's Gluten Free!' for your delectation as soon as Fin goes back to school. Until then we have been eating.......

Pea, Garlic and Watercress Soup (a variation on pea and basil soup which Fin had for lunch and supper he loved it so much!)

Mini Parma Ham and Spinach Quiches

Squash Bread (and squash muffins with a little honey and cinnamon)

Apple and Pecan Bread

and Banana and Coconut  Ice-cream (with coconut cream added to this recipe)

I'll be back again with something fresh next week. Until then, enjoy the rest of half term, it will be over before you know it.

x x x

Fluffy Eggs (SCD)

Pictured here is an item of culinary legend from my childhood. It sits alongside magic lemon pudding as a dish that conjours up the warmest feeling for a moment of calm comfort in a childhood full of chaos and freedom. Fluffy eggs. My mum sure was good with a whisk.

Essentially this is just toast and eggs, that time honoured breakfast staple. But there is something so incredible about the juxtaposition of crisp toast, melted butter, salty, peppery egg fluff and yolk, cooked just long enough to ooze into the toast. Someone cares enough about your happiness at that early hour to pick up a whisk and assemble your eggs and toast into a confection that lets the world drop away, leaving you to bask in the warm sun of their regard.

In a moment of nostalgia I made these eggs for Fin. I used some thinly sliced brazil and almond bread, a generous slab of butter and lots of fresh black pepper. I was making it up a little, but everything seemed to go to plan and Fin's eyes grew as wide as saucers when he saw his breakfast sitting on a small pink plate all fluff and barely cooked yolk.

I made one for me too, so I could share the moment. Our eyes met across the table and the years fell away as I saw myself again, egg yolk on my chin from licking the plate clean.

You could cut the toast into a heart shape for valentine's day, but I don't think you need to state the obvious. Anyone who sees you whisking egg whites while frost is still on the grass will know you love them, without having it written on a heart shaped box.

Fluffy Eggs (SCD) Makes 2 portions

2 Large Free Range Eggs
2 Slices of Bread (almond, cashew or brazil bread)
Butter
Sea Salt
Black Pepper

Toast the bread and butter it as generously as you like. Set aside.

Preheat the oven to 200c

Separate the eggs and leave the unbroken yolks each in half a shell, wedged carefully in the egg box while you beat the egg whites with a pinch of salt and lots of black pepper until stiff.

Make a nest on the buttered toast with the egg white, leaving a space in the middle just big enough for the egg yolk to sit. You probably won't use all the egg white - you could keep it in the fridge to add to a batch of bread, or stir into an omelette.

Put the toast and nest onto a baking sheet and plop the yolks carefully into the space so as not to break them.

Bake for 5-6 minutes, until there is a skin on the yolk, (but not much more than that) and the fluff is crisp and golden. If you don't like a really runny yolk then give it another couple of minutes.

Serve immediately - if not before or all your hard work will flop disappointingly. Provide salt, pepper and maybe a dollop of homemade ketchup.

Let it Snow

Yesterday morning we woke to find Bridport clothed in a fine layer of snow. Only the third time for Fin in his seven years. As the morning wore on, salt breeze playing over the grass, sun warming the air a little, the snow melted back into the earth, leaving only a little slush in the gutter that splashed up our backs as we cycled home. Fin salvaged what was left under a bush on the sheltered side of the house and stashed it lovingly in the freezer.

The rest of the country came to a standstill, factory lines ground to a halt, lorries lay at the side of the road like earthworms dug up and blinking in the light, the snow fell, and fell, and fell, muffling the busy work day week into an unexpected holiday.

Nick indulged in an early night after a tense drive home from snowbound London. I couldn't sleep, so after a little stitching and television I found myself in the dark kitchen cradling a mug of chamomile, watching the night.

The snow had started to fall again while the house slept. Fat flakes fell in an endless drift from the sky, appearing from out of the blackness like magic and twirling their way inevitably down to land thickly on cars and roofs and trees. The lawn was already obscured by a heavy felt blanket that reached across the pavement and road, rendering any vehicle caught in its wake like a bumper car abandoned at the end of a ride.

The bushes on the lawn looked as edible as a crystalised rose petal, encrusted with sparkling white sugar, dredged on with a generous hand.

The sky was alive with dancing snowflakes as they followed each slight gust of wind, chasing each other to the ground, sparkling miraculously through the inky night to appear like a shower of gold leaf under the sodium glow of street lamps. They fell in silence.

My ear waited for a sound to come, seagull or distant engine hum and there was none. The town slept as though a spell had been cast, as though I had stepped through our kitchen door into Narnia, into a silent movie. As though the town had taken a sleeping draught while the twelve princesses skipped away through forests of silver trees in flimsy silk slippers, unseen by any but me.

And then a car crunched gingerly down the hill, rolling to a slow stop on the other side of the road. Breaking the spell. I drained my cup and headed for bed.

When it snows, you want to be out there enjoying the miracle - not stuck in the kitchen. So here's a soup that can be made in minutes, tastes as creamy, delicate and satisfying as something that you spent hours over, and features a super food centre stage. Get out there and throw snowballs with abandon, knowing you can be sitting down to a bowl of this almost before the snow has melted on your wellingtons.

Broccoli, Garlic and Lemon Zest Soup (SCD) (serves 4-6)

Broccoli can induce wind in some people, even when your digestive system seems to behave most of the time. If you know that brassicas have this effect on you then enjoy only a small bowl and save the rest for another day. When you reheat it, do so very gently or you will destroy the fresh flavour and end up with something rather cabbagy. It's best made fresh.

1 lb broccoli florets
1 oz butter
3-4 cloves of garlic
zest of 1 lemon
2 large pinches of sea salt

Wash and chop the broccoli into small florets.

Mince the garlic finely and melt the butter gently over a low flame in a medium to large saucepan. When the butter has melted, add garlic and sweat for a couple of minutes until translucent but not coloured at all.

Grate the zest from the lemon and add to the pan with salt and brocolli, stir to coat.

Pour over 1 1/2 pints of boiling water and bring back up to the boil again.

Boil gently - a kind of aggressive simmer, not a rolling boil - until the stalks of the broccoli are soft, but still bright green. Don't let the broccoli turn olive green or the soup will lose its freshness.

Puree in a blender (or with a stick blender) until completely smooth and creamy. Adjust seasoning to taste, adding more salt or some black pepper if you like, possibly a little lemon juice - but not too much.

Pour into bowls and garnish with a little yogurt.