Recipes | Funky Foods

Fresh, homemade pasta really isn’t all that difficult. You don’t even need a machine. All you need is time and a little patience, and you’ll be eating the smoothest, silkiest pasta of your life

Let’s face it, you might as well be in the kitchen. The biting cold and flint grey skies are not good for much ?¢‚Ç¨‚Äú except maybe a 10-minute constitutional to bring on a raging appetite for something savoury and comforting. Or perhaps motivate you to teach yourself a new skill from which you can reap the heartiest of rewards. If you’ve never made your own pasta before, perhaps now’s the time to start.

I realise there are quite enough noisy chefs out there waving the Italian flag, and you really don’t need me to join the olive oil-gargling, bunched fingertip-kissing, mamma mia-shouting throng. But I do make my own pasta once in a while. And whenever I do, I think, “I really should do this more often.” So why not share the thrill?

It’s the best kind of kitchen alchemy: a Rumpelstiltskin kind of thrill ?¢‚Ç¨‚Äú pasta gold from straw (well, wheat), a few fresh eggs and a pinch of magic salt. You’ve almost certainly got all that it takes in your kitchen right now. In other words, you’re just a couple of hours away from the smoothest, silkiest pasta you’ve ever tasted, ready to capture a sauce, snare a bit of cheese and deliver up some fine flavours in a fabulous, fragrant, fulsome forkful.

Pasta-rolling machines are easy to find and not very expensive. They’ll do a lot of the work for you, certainly, but it’s perfectly possible to make great pasta without one ?¢‚Ç¨‚Äú it takes a bit of patience, but it’s not at all difficult. If you’re short of time, make simple sheets rather than tagliatelle. Or give gnocchi a go ?¢‚Ç¨‚Äú they’re easy and relatively quick to put together, and are fun to make with kids because small hands are particularly adept at rolling them out like edible Plasticine snakes.

In my house, this is how we roll?¢‚Ç¨¬¶

Tagliatelle with chicken livers, pancetta and sage

The pasta and livers have to be ready at exactly the same time, so have the water boiling and the plates warming when you start on the sauce. Serves six to eight.

For the pasta
250g plain flour (00 type, if possible), plus more for dusting the worktop
1 tsp salt
1 whole egg plus 3 egg yolks, lightly beaten
1 tbsp olive oil
For the sauce
3 tbsp olive oil
150g pancetta, diced
1 garlic clove, sliced
250g chicken livers, trimmed
170ml double cream
8 sage leaves, chopped, plus extra leaves to garnish
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
Parmesan, to serve

Sift the flour and salt into a heap on a worktop. Make a well in the middle and tip in the eggs and oil. Begin drawing the flour into the eggs with your fingertips, mixing to incorporate into a sticky dough. (You may need a little water, depending on the size of the eggs.) Knead gently but firmly until smooth, elastic and silky ?¢‚Ç¨‚Äú about five minutes. Wrap in cling-film and leave to rest for 30 minutes.

Cut the dough into quarters and flatten one piece into a rough disc (rewrap the rest in clingfilm, or cover with a damp tea towel, until you’re ready to roll them). Roll out with a pasta machine, gradually decreasing the width of the setting, or roll it out by hand (use a well floured rolling pin) until it’s very thin ?¢‚Ç¨‚Äú so thin that, were you to place a sheet of newspaper beneath it, you’d be able to see the print, even if you couldn’t read what it said. Rest for about 15 minutes, then cut into strips, either using the tagliatelle cutter on the machine or by hand. To cut by hand, gently fold the dough into thirds, place on a floured surface and, using a sharp knife, cut into strips approximately 5mm wide.

Bring a large pan of salted water to a boil. Cook the pasta so it’s ready at the same time as the sauce ?¢‚Ç¨‚Äú if you cook it straight away, it will take only a couple of minutes at a rolling boil, or three to four minutes if you have left it to dry overnight. Drain well.

To make the sauce, warm a tablespoon of oil in a large, heavy-bottomed frying pan and fry the pancetta until it just begins to take on some colour. Add the garlic, fry for a minute, then add the livers and saut?É¬© until they’re just seared on the outside. Tip in the cream and sage, season, allow to bubble for a minute, then tip over the just-cooked pasta and grate over some parmesan. If you like, warm the rest of the oil, fry some sage leaves until just crisp and scatter over the pasta.

Pasta sheets with shin of beef

Squares of silky pasta are a simple alternative to tagliatelle, and are just the thing to soak up the rich sauce of this rag?É¬?. Serves four to six.

For the pasta
1 batch of egg pasta (as above)
For the sauce
4 tbsp olive oil
2 onions, peeled and diced
2 carrots, peeled and diced
1 stick of celery, diced
2 tsp fresh thyme leaves
1 bay leaf
3 garlic cloves, minced
750g shin of beef, cut into 5cm cubes
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
250ml red wine
700ml beef stock
1x400ml tin chopped tomatoes
1 handful parsley leaves, finely minced

Warm two tablespoons of oil in a large, heavy-bottomed saucepan over a medium-low heat. Gently sweat the onions, carrots, celery, thyme and bay leaf for 10 minutes, then add the garlic and fry gently for a further minute. Transfer the lot to a bowl and set aside. Add the remaining oil to the pan and warm over a medium-high heat. Season the meat and brown on all sides ?¢‚Ç¨‚Äú you may need to do this in batches ?¢‚Ç¨‚Äú transferring each batch of browned meat to the vegetable bowl before starting on the next. Deglaze the pan with the red wine, scraping up all the tasty brown bits, and let it bubble for a few minutes until reduced by two-thirds. Return the vegetables and meat to the pan, tip in the stock and tomatoes, and season. Bring to a simmer, partially cover and simmer very gently for three to four hours, until the meat is very tender. Stir in the parsley and adjust the seasoning as necessary.

Bring a large pan of salted water to a boil. Cut the pasta in half to make it easier to roll out. Roll out each half very thinly, as with the tagliatelle, then with a sharp knife cut into squares of about 7cm. Add to the water, stir, and boil for three to four minutes. Drain and serve on warm plates topped with the rag?É¬?.

Goat’s cheese gnocchi with walnuts and parmesan

These were created by River Cottage head chef Gill Meller ?¢‚Ç¨‚Äú they’re surprisingly easy, too. Serves four.

For the gnocchi
500g potatoes, peeled
100g soft goat’s cheese, crumbled
240g plain flour, sifted, plus extra for dusting
1 egg, lightly beaten
1 tbsp finely chopped parsley (optional)
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
To serve
60g butter
A squeeze of lemon juice
1 tbsp finely chopped thyme leaves
100g toasted walnuts, chopped
20g freshly grated parmesan, plus more for serving
Flaky sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

Cut the potatoes into similar-sized chunks, put into a pan, cover with 4cm water, salt well and bring to a boil. Simmer for 10-15 minutes, until tender, then drain. Mash the potatoes, but not until they’re buttery-smooth ?¢‚Ç¨‚Äú the gnocchi should have a little texture to them. Transfer the mash to a bowl and as soon as it’s tepid, add the cheese, flour, egg and parsley (if using), and season generously. Using a wooden spoon or your hands, bring together to make a firm dough. Knead gently for a few minutes, then roll the dough into sausages about 1cm in diameter. Cut each into 2.5cm-long pieces. (If you like, gently roll the gnocchi over the back of the tines of a fork to make grooves ?¢‚Ç¨‚Äú these will help them hold on to the sauce, but it’s fine to cook them as they are.)

Bring a large pan of water to a gentle simmer. Cook the gnocchi, in batches, for a minute or two, until they rise to the surface. Scoop them out with a slotted spoon as they rise and transfer to a hot dish.

Warm the butter over a medium heat until it is a deep, rich hazelnut brown, then dip the base of the pan into cold water to stop it cooking further. Add the lemon, thyme and walnuts to the butter, toss with the gnocchi, add the parmesan, some salt and black pepper, and toss again. Serve immediately, with more parmesan to grate at the table.

Learn new skills on River Cottage’s four-day cookery courses.

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Couscous, bulgur and quinoa recipes | Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall

February 5th, 2011

They may be small, but their ability to soak up flavours means these little beauties carry a punch far above their weight

Perhaps it is a small world, after all. At least it is in my kitchen today, because I’m rustling around, mining the cupboards for bags of bulgur, couscous and quinoa. They may be seemingly insignificant granular particles, but their punch can be mighty, as they’re perfectly formed for delivering hefty whacks of flavour, which they steal greedily from herbs, garlic and spices in salads, stir-fries and soups. You could think of them as the original, ancient building blocks of molecular gastronomy. At least you could if you didn’t mind annoying Heston a bit.

At this time of year it’s easy to become a bit jaded. Roasted, mashed and pur?É¬©ed roots of all kinds have carried me deliciously through the winter, and though familiarity hasn’t bred contempt exactly, I’m longing for something more, something different. I look out of the window and it seems like an interminable wait for fat, peppery radishes, juicy lettuces and sweet broad beans.

So I’m forced to look elsewhere for variety. Couscous, which is really a fine, granular form of pasta, can be tricky to get right ?¢‚Ç¨‚Äú it takes seconds to transform from perfectly tender, fluffy grains to claggy mush. It’s important not to soak it too long, so follow the instructions on the packet ?¢‚Ç¨‚Äú as soon as it’s had the required soaking time, add a dash of oil and toss the grains lightly with a pair of forks to loosen and separate.

It comes in various sizes and I find the larger-grained couscous is more forgiving to prepare, and nicer to eat ?¢‚Ç¨‚Äú it’s a touch more toothsome. Look out for barley couscous, too, which has a slightly more nutty flavour.

Bulgur, which is less processed than couscous, is made from cracked wheat and is great in salads, pilafs, tabboulehs and stuffings; it also adds tasty body to soups (see today’s recipe). Quinoa is the seeds of a quite unrelated plant, but cooks up to a similar granular texture, and if you can’t eat wheat, it’s a great alternative to couscous and bulgur. Actually, that is one of the most appealing things about today’s little belters ?¢‚Ç¨‚Äú you can pretty much use them interchangeably, depending on your mood and what’s in the cupboard.

In fact, all of today’s recipes invite you to make them your own. Play with the seasonings ?¢‚Ç¨‚Äú bump up the chilli in the quinoa stir-fry; swap the parsley for coriander and the dill for mint in the couscous; add cumin to the flavoured oil for the soup. Add some roasted onions to the squash and/or throw in some crumbled goat’s cheese. Toss a small handful of toasted sesame seeds or a splash of toasted sesame oil in with the kale. Use your herbs and spices like a big Crayola box to banish the winter blahs with punchy, colourful flavours. Think small, taste big.

Turkish bulgur and red lentil soup

A substantial soup, great as a meal in itself with a hunk of bread and perhaps a salad of dressed greens. Serves three to four.

For the soup
100g red lentils
2 tbsp olive oil
1 large onion, peeled and finely chopped
1 tsp fresh thyme leaves
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
3 garlic cloves, peeled and minced
1 tbsp tomato pur?É¬©e
1 litre vegetable stock
50g bulgur wheat
1?Ç¬? tsp sweet smoked paprika
1-2 tbsp thick yoghurt
For the flavoured oil
3 tbsp olive oil
20g butter
1 tsp dried mint
?Ç¬? tsp sweet smoked paprika

Pick over the lentils, tip into a sieve and rinse well. Warm the olive oil in a large saucepan over a medium-low heat and saut?É¬© the onion with the thyme and a good pinch of salt until softened and just beginning to turn golden. Add the garlic and saut?É¬© for another minute. Add the tomato pur?É¬©e, stir, then tip in the stock, bulgur, lentils and paprika. Stir and bring to a boil. Reduce to a simmer, cover and cook for 15-20 minutes, until the lentils and bulgur are very soft. Pur?É¬©e in a food processor or with a stick blender if you prefer a smooth and creamy soup, or leave it as it is, adding a little more stock or water if it’s too thick. Season to taste.

While the soup is cooking make the flavoured oil. Warm the olive oil in a pan with the butter until the butter has melted and the foaming subsides. Remove from heat and stir in the dried mint and paprika.

Serve the soup in warmed bowls with yoghurt and the flavoured oil trickled over the top, and sprinkled with a pinch or two of dried mint.

Quinoa stir-fry with kale chilli and nuts

This makes a tasty, quick meal when hot, but it’s also good packed into a container and eaten cold at lunchtime. Serves two.

100g almonds or cashews
200g quinoa
5 tbsp olive oil
2 onions, peeled, halved and finely sliced
3 garlic cloves, peeled, halved and finely sliced
1 small red chilli, seeds and membrane removed, finely sliced
2.5cm piece fresh ginger, peeled and finely sliced
140g kale (or chard), shredded
150ml vegetable stock
Juice and zest of 1 lemon
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
Soy sauce, optional

Heat the oven to 180C/350F/gas mark 4. Place the almonds or cashews on a baking sheet and bake until slightly golden and fragrant, stirring once, about six to eight minutes. Leave to cool and chop very roughly.

Cook the quinoa according to the instructions on the packet. While it’s cooking, warm three tablespoons of the oil in a large frying pan over a medium heat, then add the onions and fry until softened and beginning to turn golden. Add the garlic, chilli and ginger, and saut?É¬© for a couple of minutes. Throw in the kale and stir-fry for a couple of minutes. Add the stock and simmer until the kale is tender and most of the liquid has evaporated. Add the quinoa, remaining oil, lemon zest and juice, and stir to combine. Finally add the nuts, season to taste and serve hot or cold, with a splash of soy sauce, if you like.

Couscous with squash, sultanas and pumpkin seeds

Large-grain Palestinian couscous, or maftoul, is easier to cook than ordinary couscous (as in it’s less likely to go mushy) and carries very well the flavours of everything you put with it. If you like, add some soft goat’s cheese to the mix, too. Serves four.

70g sultanas
60g pumpkin seeds
1 medium-sized squash (about 750g)
3-4 tbsp olive oil
1 tsp ground cumin
Flaky sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
200g large-grain couscous
Water or vegetable stock
1 handful picked flat-leafed parsley, finely chopped
3 tbsp finely chopped dill
1 tbsp apple balsamic vinegar or cider vinegar

Put the sultanas in a bowl, pour over hot water or hot tea and leave them to plump up a bit. Warm a frying pan over a medium heat and toast the pumpkin seeds, rattling the pan from time to time, until fragrant and toasted. Tip into a bowl and set aside.

Heat the oven to 190C/375F/gas mark 5. Peel the squash, halve it and remove the seeds and fibres. Cut it into largish chunks of about 3cm and place in a roasting tin. Toss in two tablespoons of the olive oil, sprinkle on the cumin, salt and pepper, and toss again. Roast for 30-35 minutes, rattling the tin halfway through, until soft in the middle and gently charred around the edges.

Cook the couscous in water or stock according to the instructions on the packet.

To assemble the salad, toss the drained sultanas, pumpkin seeds and herbs with the couscous until well combined. Trickle over the remaining tablespoon or two of olive oil and the vinegar, and toss again. Taste, adjust the seasoning as necessary, and when you’ve achieved the balance of flavour you like, toss gently with the squash. Serve hot or cold.

?¢‚Ç¨¬¢ The River Cottage Everyday iPhone App, featuring seasonal recipes, tips and videos, is now available to download from iTunes; rivercottage.net for details.

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Seville orange recipes | Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall | Food and drink

January 29th, 2011

Bitter, aromatic, bumpy-skinned wonders that are perfect for marmalade, and one or two other things besides

They’re here. You can’t miss them. Or at least you shouldn’t. Somewhere among all the muddy roots and leafy kale at your greengrocer, look out for the boxes heaped high with glorious, knobbly, thick-skinned oranges shining brightly in the winter gloom. Not just any oranges. Seville oranges.

As distinct from a regular orange as a tangerine or pomelo, these highly aromatic, bumpy-skinned wonders originated in China and India more than 3,000 years ago ?¢‚Ç¨‚Äú their Indian name is “narayam”, which means “perfume within”. They were brought to Europe by Arab traders and groves of them were established in Andalucia, most notably around Seville, hence their name.

In this country we were familiar with bitter oranges (Citrus aurantium) long before their less bracing, sweet counterparts (C. sinensis) came along. And it’s easy to understand why, historically, they became associated with opulence, wealth, even sexiness (Nell Gwyn, anyone? Or, indeed, everyone?). Appearing in the middle of our grey, northern winters, when all around is dull and cold, they stand out, unmissable, edible baubles.

Recipes for puddings, sauces and preserves made with Seville oranges go back many centuries, but it was a happy accident of inclement weather and thrift that brought about their finest commercial hour. A ship carrying a cargo of Seville oranges was forced to shelter from a storm in the harbour at Dundee. A local grocer, one James Keiller, bought up the fruit cheaply and his wife, Janet, taking advantage of a ready supply of sugar from her husband’s shop, turned them into marmalade. By 1797, the family had opened the first marmalade factory, and that city’s long association with the famous preserve began.

The Scots didn’t invent marmalade, though. The Portuguese word for quince, marmelo, gave its name to marmelada, a thick, sweet quince paste. In Tudor England, “marmalades” were made from all kinds of fruit, from pears to plums and gooseberries. By the 18th century, softer orange marmalades were being made in Scotland’s private houses, and this led to the modern incarnation of this favoured fruity treat. Rather than serving it as a sweet ending to a meal, they served it at breakfast, like jam. To this day, it remains an invigorating way to start the day, its combination of sweet and tart kick-starting the tastebuds and lifting the mood over the morning papers.

I do hope you’ll make your own batch of marmalade this year (see recipe), but the fragrant, puckering juice is also an interesting replacement for lemon or lime juice in marinades and dressings, particularly in those to accompany rich meats such as duck. You can even use the juice in ceviche, where the fruit’s acidity will “cook” and flavour the fish. And don’t waste the peel ?¢‚Ç¨‚Äú pare strips of zest from the flesh, thread together and hang in a dry place. Add a strip to bouquet garni to lend depth of flavour to rich beef stews.

So do grab a few kilos of Seville oranges while you can, because their season is short. Even if you don’t have time to make marmalade right now, these oranges freeze quite well, so you can rustle up a batch whenever suits. Seek out organic, unsprayed fruit, if you can. If you can’t find it near you, both Abel & Cole and Riverford sell the fruit mail-order, so you have no excuse not to pucker up and get preserving.

Seville orange meringue pie

A tasty twist on a favourite pud. Save the skins of the squeezed oranges ?¢‚Ç¨‚Äú freeze them and use them in a batch of marmalade. Serves six to eight.

For the pastry
225g plain flour
25g icing sugar
Pinch of salt
150g chilled butter, cut into cubes
1 egg yolk
3 tbsp iced water

For the filling
About 8 Seville oranges, enough for 400ml of juice, strained
Finely grated zest of 1 navel orange
75g cornflour, sifted
4 egg yolks
250g caster sugar

For the meringue
4 egg whites, at room temperature
220g caster sugar

Heat the oven to 200C/400F/gas mark 6. To make the pastry, sift the flour, sugar and salt into a large bowl and, using your fingertips, rub in the butter until the mixture resembles coarse breadcrumbs. Whisk the egg yolk with the water, reserve a little to glaze the bottom of the blind-baked shell, and cut the rest into the flour mixture with a knife until you have a dough. Knead very gently until smooth, pat into a disc, wrap in cling-film and chill for 30 minutes. (Or use a food processor, but be careful not to over-process the dough.)

On a lightly floured work surface, roll out the pastry and use to line a 25cm loose-bottomed tart tin, letting any excess pastry hang over the sides. Prick the pastry lightly all over with a fork, line with greaseproof paper, fill with baking beans and place on a baking sheet. Bake blind for 12 minutes. Remove the greaseproof paper, brush the bottom of the tart with the egg wash and return to the oven until the pastry is cooked and slightly golden, about another eight minutes. Lower the oven heat to 150C/300F/gas mark 2.

While the shell is cooking, make the filling. Pour the orange juice, zest and cornflour into a bowl, and whisk until smooth. Bring 250ml water to a boil, then pour in the juice mixture. Simmer gently, stirring constantly, until it thickens. In a separate bowl, whisk together the egg yolks and sugar, and stir into the thickened orange juice. Bring back to a simmer, whisking until it begins to bubble, remove from the heat and pour into the tart shell.

To make the meringue, whisk the egg whites in a large, scrupulously clean bowl until they form stiff peaks. Gradually add the sugar, a tablespoon at a time, whisking well after each addition, until the mixture is stiff and glossy. Spoon the meringue over the top of the orange tart filling and swirl into peaks with a fork. Bake for about an hour, until the meringue is crisp on the outside and soft in the middle. Serve warm or cold.

Seville orange curd

An easy, tangy curd that’s as delicious spread on toast as it is spread thickly in the middle of a Victoria sandwich. Makes about three 240ml jars.

200ml Seville orange juice (ie from about 3 oranges), strained
Finely grated zest of 1 unwaxed navel orange
125g unsalted butter
400g granulated sugar
2 whole eggs plus 2 yolks, well beaten

Put the juice, zest, butter and sugar in a double boiler or a heatproof bowl over a pan of just-simmering water. As soon as the butter has melted, and the mixture is hot and glossy, pour in the beaten eggs through a sieve and whisk with a balloon whisk. Stir the mixture over a gentle heat until it’s thick enough to coat the back of a spoon, about 12-15 minutes ?¢‚Ç¨‚Äú a sugar thermometer should read 82-84C . Pour immediately into warm, sterilised jars and seal. Use within three or four weeks, and keep in the fridge once opened..

Seville orange marmalade

This is my friend Pam Corbin’s recipe for classic marmalade from River Cottage Handbook No 2: Preserves. If you want to add whisky, brandy or Cointreau, stir in about 50ml just before putting the marmalade into jars. Makes five to six 450g jars.

1kg Seville oranges
75ml lemon juice
2kg demerara sugar

Scrub the oranges, remove the buttons at the top of the fruit, then cut them in half. Squeeze out the juice and reserve. With a sharp knife, slice the peel, pith and all, into thin, medium or chunky strips, depending on your preference. Gather up the seeds and tie them in a square of muslin. Put the peel and pip bag into a bowl with the orange juice, cover with 2.5 litres of water and leave to soak overnight, or for up to 24 hours.

Transfer the lot to a preserving pan or large saucepan, bring to a boil, then simmer slowly, partially covered, until the peel is tender ?¢‚Ç¨‚Äú this should take about two hours, by which time the contents of the pan will have reduced by about a third. Remove and discard the bag of pips.

If you don’t have a sugar thermometer, put a saucer in the freezer to chill. Add the lemon juice and sugar to the pan, and stir over a low heat until the sugar has dissolved. Raise the heat and bring to a rolling boil. Boil rapidly until the setting point is reached, after about 25 minutes ?¢‚Ç¨‚Äú a sugar thermometer should read 104C or a dollop of marmalade dropped on to the chilled saucer should wrinkle when pushed with your finger. Remove from the heat, leave to cool for eight to 10 minutes (a little longer if the peel is very chunky), then stir gently to disperse any scum. Pour into warm, sterilised jars and seal immediately.

?¢‚Ç¨¬¢ The River Cottage Everyday iPhone App, featuring seasonal recipes, tips and videos, is now available to download from iTunes; rivercottage.net for details.

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Biscuit recipes | Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall

January 22nd, 2011

Forget those over-sized, over-sweet cookies and cupcakes at the coffee shop. What we Brits really want with our cup of tea or coffee is a proper biscuit

Idon’t want to sound like some harrumphing colonel, but what is happening to the great British biscuit? I didn’t fight in two world wars (figuratively speaking) to see the mighty, wheaty digestive, the feisty gingernut and the gregarious garibaldi supplanted by cookies the size of hubcaps and decorated with effing Smarties. Are we meant to eat them, or drill a hole in them and hang them up?

I blame the American coffee chains. They come over here, interfere with our milk and bamboozle us with transatlantic gibberish that makes us feel like scum for simply ordering “a cup of coffee”. (“You want skinny scum on that, Sir, or are you the full-fat scum?”) And when we ask for a cup of tea, they ask, “Medium or large?” then charge us an extra 50p for pouring another half-pint of tepid water over a teabag in a paper cup.

But it’s when we want something to nibble with our cuppa that they really take the piss. It’s not just those supersized decorated cookies, either. So-called granola bars are really packets of nasty cereal stuck together with glue. Enormous cartoon cupcakes attempt to disguise bland, greasy sponge beneath an avalanche of sugary icing. And don’t get me started on whoopie pies.

Give me a wholesome British bickie from a packet any day over these pumped-up, showboating, faux-bakery items. Our best-loved biscuits are quiet, restrained, delicious, designed for a few moments of private pleasure rather than for gluttonous excess. If I want a little extra, there’s always the chocolate digestive or the rather racy Bourbon. These unassuming classics are low-maintenance, too, resting discreetly in the tin ready for a mid-morning cup of tea or after-school snack.

I’m not saying there’s no place for a more indulgent, treaty biscuit. I’m just saying most attempts to occupy that space in the commercial sector are a tragicomedy of style over content, and a huge disappointment when you stick them in your expectant gob. In short, a total rip-off.

No, if you want to go beyond the biscuit tin classics, far better to bake a batch yourself. You’ll be surprised how easy it is ?¢‚Ç¨‚Äú easy enough to enlist the kids’ help without fear of cookie cock-ups. And provided you use good ingredients ?¢‚Ç¨‚Äú the best butter, the fruitiest jam, the freshest spices ?¢‚Ç¨‚Äú you will make something truly delightful.

Jam thumbprint biscuits

Some of the easiest, prettiest biscuits of all. Makes about 24 biscuits.

225g unsalted butter at room temperature
225g caster or vanilla sugar
Finely grated zest from 1 medium-sized, unwaxed lemon
?Ç¬? tsp vanilla extract
2 egg yolks
2 tbsp milk
280g plain flour, sifted with a good pinch of salt
About 6 tbsp jam

Heat the oven to 180C/350F/gas mark 4. Line a couple of baking trays with baking parchment.

Beat the butter and sugar in a large bowl until light and fluffy, then beat in the lemon zest and vanilla extract. Next beat in the egg yolks one at a time, then beat in the milk.

Gently fold in half the flour, stir gently, then add the rest ?¢‚Ç¨‚Äú don’t overwork it or the biscuits will be tough. Gather the soft dough together gently with your hands until you have a smooth ball. Wrap in clingfilm, chill for 30 minutes, then roll into 2.5cm balls. Place these on the baking sheets about 2.5cm apart. Use your thumb to push a deep little well in the centre of each ball ?¢‚Ç¨‚Äú this is quite a sticky dough, so dip your thumb in water first. Put a quarter of a tablespoon of jam in each indentation.

Bake until firm to touch and golden on the bottom, about 15 minutes. Leave to cool on the tray for a few minutes, then transfer to wire racks and cool completely.

Peanut butter chocolate sandwich biscuits

Slightly salty peanut butter is a great foil for creamy chocolate ganache. Makes about 24 filled biscuits.

For the biscuits
240g plain flour
2 tbsp cocoa powder
?Ç¬? tsp baking powder
?Ç¬º tsp salt
180g butter
140g smooth peanut butter
100g caster sugar
100g light brown sugar
1 egg
1 tsp vanilla extract
For the filling
100ml double cream
200g dark chocolate
30g butter, softened

Sift the flour, cocoa powder, baking powder and salt into a bowl. In a separate bowl, beat the butter and peanut butter until smooth. Add the sugars and beat until light and fluffy. Add the egg and vanilla, beat until smooth, then stir in the flour until well combined. Pat into a disc, wrap in clingfilm and refrigerate for an hour or two to firm up, as this is quite a soft dough.

Heat the oven to 170C/325F/gas mark 3. Line three or four baking sheets with parchment (you may need to bake these in batches). Lightly dust a work surface with flour, divide the dough in two and roll each piece to about 4-5mm thick. Cut into circles with a 5cm plain biscuit cutter. Place on the baking sheets about 2cm apart, and bake for 15-17 minutes, until the edges are slightly darkened. Transfer to a rack to cool while you make the ganache.

In a small pan, gently heat the cream until bubbles appear at the edges. Break the chocolate into small pieces and put into a bowl. Pour the hot cream over, stirring to blend, then add the butter a bit at a time, stirring until the mixture is smooth. Leave to thicken slightly, then pipe or spread the ganache on to half the biscuits, and sandwich together.

Shrewsbury biscuits

These light, lemony biscuits keep in a tin for up to a week. If you like, add 60g currants and omit the caraway seeds. Makes about 18 biscuits.

100g butter, softened, plus a little more for greasing
150g caster sugar, plus a little more for sprinkling
2 egg yolks, plus 1 egg white
220g plain flour, sifted
?Ç¬? tsp caraway seeds
Finely grated zest of 1 lemon
Pinch of salt
1-2 tbsp whole milk

Heat the oven to 180C/350F/gas mark 4 and line two baking sheets with baking parchment.

In a large bowl, cream the butter and sugar until pale and fluffy. Beat in the egg yolks one at a time. Fold in the flour, caraway, zest, salt and just enough milk to bring it together into a smooth dough ?¢‚Ç¨‚Äú you may not need the milk at all, depending on the size of the egg yolks.

Turn out the dough on to a lightly floured surface and knead gently into a disc. Roll out to about 4-5mm thick, then cut out biscuits with a 6cm plain or fluted cutter. Arrange on the sheets and bake for 10 minutes. While they are cooking, lightly beat the egg white. Remove the biscuits from the oven, brush lightly with egg white and sprinkle with caster sugar, then bake for four or five minutes more, until pale golden brown around the edges. Cool on the tray, then transfer to wire racks to cool completely.

Cornish fairings

These spicy biscuits keep well in a tin for up to a week. Makes about 18 biscuits.

100g butter, softened
100g caster sugar
2 tbsp golden syrup
175g self-raising flour
1 tsp ground ginger
?Ç¬º-?Ç¬? tsp ground mixed spice, depending on taste
?Ç¬º tsp ground cinnamon
?Ç¬º tsp bicarbonate of soda
Pinch of salt

Heat the oven to 200C/400F/gas mark 6 and line two baking sheets with baking parchment.

Melt the butter, sugar and golden syrup in a pan over a low heat. Remove from the heat and stir well.

Sift the flour, ginger, mixed spice, cinnamon, bicarbonate of soda and salt together into a bowl, then tip into the melted butter mixture and gently beat to form a smooth dough. Roll the still-warm dough into balls the size of a small walnut and place 2cm apart on the prepared trays.

Bake for 10 minutes, remove from the oven and carefully bash the trays on the counter to make the biscuits crackle and spread. Return to the oven for five to seven minutes, until golden brown. Cool on the trays for a few minutes, then transfer to a wire rack to cool completely.

?¢‚Ç¨¬¢ The River Cottage Everyday iPhone App, featuring seasonal recipes, tips and videos, is now available to download from iTunes ?¢‚Ç¨‚Äú go to rivercottage.net for details.

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Roasted parsnip and?Ç¬†apple?Ç¬†salad recipe | Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall

January 16th, 2011

Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall serves up a substantial salad full of sweet, earthy flavours in his series of quick and healthy lunches

This substantial salad features a lovely combination of sweet and earthy flavours ?¢‚Ç¨‚Äú apples and parsnips are such good partners. The garlicky dressing adds a little piquant edge and the nuts finish the whole thing off with a welcome crunch.

Serves 4

4 medium parsnips
2 tbsp rapeseed oil
4 dessert apples, cut into eighths, cores removed
4 good handfuls of salad leaves
50g lightly toasted hazelnuts, walnuts or pecans
Salt and black pepper

For the dressing
1 garlic clove, crushed to a paste with a little salt
1 tsp English mustard
2 tsp clear honey
1 tbsp lemon juice
4 tbsp rapeseed oil

1. Preheat the oven to 190C/gas 5. Peel the parsnips, quarter them and remove the woody cores, then chop them into roughly 2cm pieces.

2. Put the parsnips on a large roasting tray (they should not be crowded), scatter with some seasoning and toss with the oil. Roast for 10 minutes, then take them out of the oven, give them a stir, add the apple pieces and return to the oven for about 15 minutes or until everything is tender and golden brown.

3. Meanwhile, make the dressing by whisking all the ingredients together. Check the seasoning.

4. When the parsnip and apple pieces are cooked, transfer them to a bowl and toss them in the dressing.

5. Arrange the salad leaves on four plates, top with the warm, dressed parsnip and apple, then finish off with the toasted nuts. Serve straight away.

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Lamb’s liver with merguez?Ç¬†spices recipe | Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall

January 16th, 2011

Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall adds the classic north African spice mix to lamb in this unique dish ?¢‚Ç¨‚Äú part of his series of quick and healthy lunches

This fabulous north African spice mix, based on coriander, caraway and cumin, is traditionally used to flavour merguez sausage. The blend is also wonderful in this simple dish, a delicious way to serve lamb’s liver. It goes without saying that the liver should be extremely fresh.

Serves 2

300g fresh lamb’s liver, thinly sliced
?Ç¬? a medium onion, thinly sliced
1 tsp ground coriander
1 tsp ground caraway
1 tsp ground cumin
A pinch of smoked paprika
A pinch of cayenne pepper
1 garlic clove, finely sliced
?Ç¬? tbsp rapeseed or olive oil
Small knob of unsalted butter
Salt and black pepper

To serve
Thick toast and green salad

1. Put the liver and onion in a bowl with all the spices, the garlic and the oil. Toss together with your hands then cover and leave for 20 minutes.

2. Heat a large frying pan over a high heat. When it’s good and hot, add the liver mixture, making sure it’s well spread out. Throw in the knob of butter too. Let the liver sear for about 1 minute, then give it a good stir or toss and cook for a minute or so more.

3. Season, then serve straight away on toast, trickling over any juices from the pan. Serve with a salad.

Adapted from the River Cottage Cookbook

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