Bacon and beans, pike and leek pie, grilled steak and chips, and chocolate ice cream recipes from the hotel menu

Lunch: Bacon and beans

SERVES 2

cooked cannellini beans 500g
onions 50g, minced
sage leaves 5, chopped
bay leaf 1
duck fat 1 jar
chopped peeled tomatoes 100g
black treacle 10g
Dijon mustard 15g
chicken stock 200ml
trotter gear (see below) 50g
pig’s cheek, buy it brined from your butcher 1

Trotter gear
pigs’ trotters (all hair removed) 6
onions 2, peeled
carrots 2, peeled
celery 2 sticks
leeks 2, split
garlic 1 head
thyme a bundle
peppercorns a handful
Sercial Madeira ½ bottle
chicken stock to cover the trotters

First make the trotter gear. Place the trotters in a large casserole. Cover with water and bring to the boil. Boil for 5 minutes then drain. Now place the blanched trotters in the pot with the vegetables, thyme, peppercorns and Madeira and cover with the stock. Cook for at least 3 hours until the trotters are totally giving. At this point, strain the cooking liquid and keep. When the trotters are cool enough to handle, pick all the flesh, fat and skin off them tearing the skin to shreds. Add to the cooking liquid, seal in a jar and refrigerate. You now have trotter gear – giving, wobbly trotter captured in a splendid jelly.

To prepare the beans, sweat minced onions, sage and bay leaf in some duck fat until lightly caramelised and aromatic. Add tomatoes and simmer till soft and the fat has started to split. Add the cooked white beans and fold in the black treacle and Dijon mustard. Cover with chicken stock and trotter gear and simmer.

To prepare the brined pig’s cheek, poach the cheek in water till tender to the fork, about 1½ hours. Remove from its bath and press under a heavy weight. Trim edges and slice into thick rashers.

To finish, fry pig’s cheek rashers till golden. In an ovenproof pot, layer beans and bacon finishing with beans. Add extra stock if the beans are looking dry and bake until deeply browned and bubbling.

Pike and leek pie

A magnificent pie. The size of your pike might influence the size of your pie.

SERVES 4

small pike 1
white wine 50ml
white wine vinegar 10ml
carrots 100g
celery stalk 100g
onions 50g
bay leaf 1
parsley stalks a few

For the pie
butter 75g
leeks 300g, chopped
flour 50g
white wine 100ml
hot bouillon 700ml
puff pastry 1 block
beaten egg 1

Find a pan large enough to hold your pike and fill it with water. Add all the court-bouillon ingredients and bring to a simmer. Add the pike and poach gently until the flesh comes easily from the bones, about 20 minutes. Remove the pike from the court-bouillon, which is now a delicious fish stock. Once cool, remove all bones and skin, keeping the pike in fairly sizeable pieces.

To make the pie, sweat the chopped leeks in 25g butter until soft and fold into the pike. For the sauce, melt 50g butter and add the flour. Cook until it smells biscuity. Now add the white wine and then hot bouillon – a whisk is a good thing at this point. From there on, whisk until silky springs to mind. Check for seasoning and pour this sauce over the pike and leeks and leave to cool. Fill your pie dish. Roll your pastry and leave to rest for 30 minutes. Then cover your pie with the pastry and brush with beaten egg. Bake in a hot oven 180C/gas mark 4 for 30-40 minutes until well browned.

Late supper: Grilled skirt steak, chips and mustard

SERVES 2

skirt steak (trimmed of all the sinew) 2 x 250g

For the steak dressing
minced shallots 15g
minced capers 15g
minced parsley 5g
Dijon mustard 15g
olive oil 75ml
red wine vinegar 10ml

For the chips
maris piper potatoes 1kg
beef dripping 3kg (or enough to fill a small domestic fryer)

To make the dressing, mix all the ingredients together and season to taste.

To make the chips, peel potatoes and slice into chips (not fries). Rinse until water runs clear. Place in a pot and cover with cold water. Bring to a gentle simmer and leave till just soft. Remove from pot and drain. Spread out on a tray to dry. Melt beef dripping in a fryer and bring up to 140C. Fry the chips until lightly golden, drain and leave to cool. Now they can be put in the fridge (or freezer) until ready to use.

To finish, season the steaks and grill on a very hot grill to rare to medium. Rest in a bowl and spoon over 2 spoonfuls of dressing. While the steaks are resting, bring the fryer up to 180C and fry the chips until crispy and golden. Slice steaks against the grain, pile on plates and pour over resting juices and dressing. Serve with chips.

Chocolate ice cream

MAKES 1 LITRE

plain chocolate, with at least 70% cocoa solids (we use El Rey Venezuelan chocolate called Apamate) 200g
large egg yolks 6
caster sugar 115g
full-fat milk 500ml
double cream 50ml
cocoa powder 40g

For the caramel
caster sugar 70g
water 75ml

Chop the chocolate into small pieces and place in a bowl set over a pan of simmering water, making sure the water doesn’t touch the base of the bowl. Leave to melt.

Put the egg yolks and caster sugar in a separate bowl and whisk with an electric beater for about 5 minutes, until the mixture leaves a trail on the surface when the whisk is lifted.

Place the milk, cream and cocoa powder in a heavy-based pan and bring slowly to the boil, whisking occasionally to prevent the mixture sticking to the bottom of the pan. Pour it over the egg yolk mixture, whisking constantly to prevent curdling. Return the mixture to the pan and add the melted chocolate. Cook over a low heat for around 8 minutes, stirring constantly. Remove from heat; set aside.

To make the caramel, place the sugar and water in a small, deep, heavy-based pan and bring slowly to the boil, stirring to dissolve the sugar. Raise the heat and simmer, without stirring, until a very dark caramel is achieved. Remove from the heat and whisk the hot caramel into the ice-cream base a little at a time. Pour through a fine sieve into a plastic container and cool quickly in an ice bath. Leave in the fridge for two days before churning in an ice-cream machine. Once churned, leave for 3 to 4 days before eating – it will improve in flavour.

guardian.co.uk food-and-drink

A high-speed and healthy fish supper

Serves 4
Cooking time: 15 mins

For the mullet:
4 400g whole red mullet, filleted
2 tbsp olive oil
Extra-virgin olive oil, to serve

For the clams and peas:
2 tbsp olive oil
1 clove garlic
400g peas, freshly shelled or frozen
400g clams
125ml dry white wine
1 small handful parsley leaves, finely chopped
Salt and pepper

Season the mullet fillets on both sides. Heat the oil in a frying pan over a medium heat, lay in the fish skin-side down and fry for three minutes. Turn them over and fry for another half a minute, or until the fish is cooked through.

Meanwhile, in a saucepan that is large enough to accommodate the clams, heat the oil over a medium heat, add the garlic and fry gently until it starts to go brown. Add the peas, clams and wine, and cook to allow the alcohol to evaporate for a minute. Then add the parsley and some seasoning, cover the pan with a tight-fitting lid and cook the clams for another three minutes. As soon as they are open, take the pan off the heat. Discard any clams that don’t open.

Spoon the clams in a four large warmed bowls and place the red mullet on top, drizzle with some extra-virgin olive oil.

• José Pizarro is formerly head chef at Brindisa and author of Seasonal Spanish Food. His first solo restaurant, Pizarro, opens in London this summer

guardian.co.uk food-and-drink

Is kedgeree the breakfast of kings or is eating fish before lunchtime a bit too 19th century?

The noble breakfast dish of kedgeree is a prime example of an Anglo-Indian culinary mash up, with its roots in khichri, a dish of spiced pulses mixed with rice which was already on the menu by the time the Moroccan explorer Ibn Batuta made it to Delhi in the mid-14th century.

The fish was a British introduction, as were the hard-boiled eggs. (Presumably we would have stuck some black pudding in there as well if Cook had happened across one in the cantonment stores.) Lizzie Collingham points out in Curry: a biography that fresh fish was already a staple of the Raj breakfast table, as, she quotes an early 19th century handbook as saying, “in the hot season, fish caught early in the morning would be much deteriorated before the dinner hour.” It wasn’t until the dish travelled back to the country homes of Britain that smoked haddock put in an appearance.

Madhur Jaffrey points out that the wetter end of the kedgeree spectrum is rather like a rice porridge, so it seems unsurprising that this, amongst all local dishes, became popular amongst the colonists. Not only would it have been vaguely familiar, but presumably, “like the local people, they found it … good for invalids or those with hangovers”, as Sri Owen puts it in The Rice Book. Hear, hear – there’s nothing better after a night on the sauce than a steaming bowl of comforting, lightly spiced rice, silky with butter and strewn with salty, smoky fish and fresh-flavoured herbs; it wakes up your palate and soothes the stomach.

It didn’t take the Victorians long to adapt the dish to suit their own tastes. The 1885 edition of Culinary Jottings for Madras, a (recently reprinted) collection of cookery articles from the Madras Athenaeum and Daily News by an Indian Army colonel, gives a rather unappetising sounding recipe for kegeree (sic) of “the English type”, “composed of boiled rice, chopped hard-boiled egg, cold minced fish, and a lump of fresh butter … tossed together in the frying-pan, flavoured with pepper, salt, and any minced garden herb such as cress, parsley, or marjoram, and served smoking hot.” Not a spice in sight.

Plain

Interestingly enough, The Complete Indian Housekeeper and Cook, an 1888 publication quoted in The Road to Vindaloo, an utterly fascinating study of the British love affair with curry, includes a plainer recipe, rather like a spiced paella, in its chapter on “Native Dishes” – but then its author, the redoubtable Flora Annie Steele, wasn’t your average memsahib.

I fry sliced onions in a generous amount of “boiling ghee” then remove these from the pan and put in 4 tbsp “well-washed” rice and 4 tbsp dal (I used some surplus ready-cooked moong dal, but dry lentils should work just as well). Once these have absorbed the remaining butter, I add ginger, peppercorns, cardamom, cloves and a cinnamon stick, cover the lot with water, and leave it to simmer until almost dry. The dish is served with the fried onion scattered over the top – delicious (and quite a revelation for anyone who thinks themselves daringly modern for liking a bit of spice at the breakfast table), but definitely “kidgeree”, as Mrs Steele has it, rather than kedgeree.

Wet kedgeree

I find a recipe for “wet kedgeree” in The Prawn Cocktail Years, which Lindsay Bareham and Simon Hopkinson claim is “slightly controversial”, possibly because it marries rice with a distinctly European white sauce.

While the rice cooks, I poach smoked haddock in milk, and then use this liquid to make a sauce thickened with flour and flavoured with cream, lemon juice, curry powder and sautéed onion. This is folded into the cooked rice and smoked fish, along with a small bunch of chopped chives, and the whole thing is topped with parsley and sliced boiled egg. It’s undeniably comforting, but I think the cream dulls the spice and makes it into a fishy porridge, which, however authentic it may be, seems a shame. I like my kedgeree to have a bit more of a kick.

Thrifty kedgeree

Despite saying one should be “generous with the butter and cream” in the preamble to her kedgeree recipe, Jane Grigson doesn’t use any dairy products to actually make it – after poaching the smoked haddock in water, she uses the same liquid to cook the rice, flavoured with sautéed onion and curry powder. The two are then mixed together, with a knob of butter, and topped with lemon slices, egg, parsley and prawns.

It’s a clever and economical technique, but again, the flavours of the finished dish are not as vivid as I would like. Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall and Nick Fisher use a similar method in their River Cottage Fish Book (while suggesting smoked pollack instead of the more popular haddock), poaching the fish in milk instead, but again, I find this slightly bland.

Fish fried rice

The Leiths Fish Bible version is very different, and more in the spirit of the original Raj dish, designed to use up leftover rice, than the others. After poaching the haddock, I fry a chopped onion in an impressive amount of butter until soft, add turmeric, green chilli, curry powder and chopped fresh ginger, sauté them briefly, and then stir through the cooked rice fish and eggs. The flavours are striking, and the generous amount of butter makes the rice rich and moist.

Flavours

Sautéing pre-cooked rice in butter and spices keeps the flavours fresh, and the texture fluffy, rather than mushy. Leiths add fresh ginger, which I don’t like with smoked fish, but their fresh green chilli adds a nice touch of freshness to the dish, as does a garnish of finely chopped coriander, rather than the more usual parsley. The chives used by Simon Hopkinson and Lindsay Bareham contribute a savoury, tangy quality that works particularly well with the eggs. On that subject, it’s very modish to substitute soft-boiled or poached eggs, but I prefer a distinctly Victorian solidity on this occasion.

Despite what many modern chefs seem to believe, old-fashioned curry powder is an absolute must here – a couple of separate spices, as used by Nigella, just doesn’t create the same effect. Salmon, scallops, mackerel – even prawns, all seem wrong to me: the fish should be white, smoked, and sustainable. This is a breakfast that leaves you in no doubt you’re alive and well: silver chafing dish optional.

Perfect kedgeree

Serves 4

450g basmati rice
500g smoked haddock
120g butter
1 large onion, finely chopped
1 green chilli, deseeded and cut into thin rings
2 crushed cardamom pods
1 tbsp curry powder
2 hard-boiled eggs, peeled and cut in half
Small handful chives, chopped
½ lemon, cut into 4 wedges
Small bunch of coriander, chopped

1. Toss the rice briefly under running water and then put it in a large pan and cover with cold water. Leave for at least half an hour.

2. Drain the rice and discard the soaking water. Put it in a large pan on a medium heat with 585ml fresh water.

3. Bring to the boil, and give it a good stir. Cover tightly and turn the heat down very low. Cook for 25 minutes then take off the heat – don’t take the lid off! – and place on a wet tea towel. Leave for five minutes then fork through to fluff up.

4. Meanwhile, put the fish, skin-side up, in a shallow pan over a low heat, and cover with boiling water. Allow to sit for 10 minutes, then take out of the water and, when cool enough to handle, pull the skin off and break into large flakes.

5. Melt the butter in a large frying pan over a lowish heat, and add the onion. Fry gently until softened, then stir in the chilli, cardamom pods and curry powder. Cook for a couple of minutes, then tip in the rice and stir to coat. Add the fish flakes and heat through. Taste and season.

6. Put the eggs on top, scatter with chives and coriander, and serve with slices of lemon to squeeze over.

Is kedgeree the breakfast of kings, or an aptly malodorous reminder of colonialism? Are there any other Anglo-Indian favourites which deserve to be better known – and can it really be true that kedgeree has its origins in Scotland rather than Shimla?

guardian.co.uk food-and-drink

Are you nervous when it comes to buying and cooking fish? Mitch Tonks is here to help

guardian.co.uk food-and-drink

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Don’t save barbecues for parties and special occasions ?ɬ¢?¢‚Äö¬¨?¢‚Ǩ?ì they’re far more suited to when you’ve got friends or family over for lunch

As I write, three solid weeks of outstanding barbecue weather have just been broken by a night-long downpour. Has that put me off writing about barbecues? Not at all. I’m sure there’s a load more sunshine on the way. And you know what, even if there isn’t, it really doesn’t matter. Here’s the thing about barbecuing ?ɬ¢?¢‚Äö¬¨?¢‚Ǩ?ì a liberating secret I’d like to share, and one that keen barbecuers should never forget ?ɬ¢?¢‚Äö¬¨?¢‚Ǩ?ì it doesn’t have to be a scorching, sunny day to cook outside over smouldering charcoal or wood. It just has to be not pouring with rain. The rest of the summer may be rubbish, but we’re not actually expecting a biblical 40 days and nights of ceaseless rain? Are we?

It surprises me that we often save barbecues for special occasions or parties when, frankly, it can be quite stressful catering for such numbers over fire. Really, the barbecue is just another agreeable weapon in the thinking cook’s arsenal, more appropriate for a family lunch or friends over for supper than for feeding the whole village/street/cricket team.

Here are a few pointers for making it all go swimmingly (but not in the Noah’s flood sense). Most important of all, you need to light the fire well in advance so the coals are glowing red and covered in a layer of white ash. This will take at least 30 minutes with charcoal, longer with gathered wood. By far the best charcoal, incidentally, is that made from sustainably coppiced British woodland. It’s easy to light, and burns fast and even. And if the heat starts to fade, a quick top-up will have it back in business within 10 minutes.

You need to get the bars really hot to stop food from sticking to them. Better lightly to oil the food and lay it on searing hot bars than attempt to oil the bars themselves. And don’t be tempted to move things about too quickly or too often. You need the food to build up a burned edge at the point of contact with the bars, so it won’t break up or tear when you flip them.

Then you can really give your imagination free rein, cooking everything from whole birds and large pieces of meat (see today’s spatchcocked chicken) to sweet and delicate fruit. I’ve experimented with whole fish wrapped in layers of wet newspaper; oysters and mussels in their shells, which open up miraculously as they cook; and practically the entire contents of the vegetable garden ?ɬ¢?¢‚Äö¬¨?¢‚Ǩ?ì grilled lettuce hearts and spring onions with olive oil and shaved goat’s cheese are a great favourite. But you don’t have to be obsessively experimental. I hear weird tales of people attempting brownies and all sorts of cakey stuff on barbecues, but that seems a bit bonkers to me. They’re never going to be as good as ones made in the oven, are they?

You want your ingredients to be enhanced by barbecuing, not merely to survive it. For me, when it comes to pudding, fruit wins every time, whether in the form of kebabs or halved stone fruit, slices of pineapple or, that barbecue stalwart, the banana. Just add a few scoops of ice-cream for summery perfection. But not until you’ve taken the fruit off the barbecue, obviously?ɬ¢?¢‚Äö¬¨?Ǭ¶

Five barbecue inspirations

My favourite griller thrillers?ɬ¢?¢‚Äö¬¨?Ǭ¶

Tomatoes Cut in half lengthways, brush with olive oil and grill, cut side down, for about three minutes.

Garlic Trickle whole garlic bulbs with olive or rapeseed oil, wrap in foil and grill until tender, about 20 minutes. Cool slightly, then squeeze cooked cloves on to steak or toasted bread, or use them to make a?É?í?ǬØoli.

Sardines Rub gutted sardines with a little olive oil and season with chopped garlic, thyme, salt and pepper. Ideally, put them into a barbecue fish basket to make it easier to turn them, and cook for two to three minutes a side.

Fruit kebabs Thread cubes of apple, pear, banana, mango, pineapple, halved figs or plums on to skewers. Brush with honey thinned with a little apple or orange juice and grill over a low, fading barbecue, turning very frequently, until lightly caramelised, about five minutes.

Peaches or nectarines Halve, then brush the cut sides with a little melted butter, sprinkle lightly with brown sugar and grill, cut side down, for three to four minutes. Serve with ricotta, ice-cream or mascarpone and a sprinkling of toasted flaked almonds or chopped hazelnuts.

Roasted artichokes and lemons

These grilled lemons go wonder-fully well with artichokes, but they’re great with barbecued fish, chicken and lamb as well. Serves six as a starter.

6 small to medium-sized artichokes
4 tbsp olive oil
2 large lemons, quartered lengthways
Flaky sea salt

Simmer or steam the artichokes whole until just tender, about 15-25 minutes ?ɬ¢?¢‚Äö¬¨?¢‚Ǩ?ì you can tell they’re done by tugging at one of the lower leaves: it should pull away easily. (Incidentally, if you grow your own, they’ll take less time to cook, so reduce the cooking time to around seven or eight minutes.) Lift the artichokes from the pan and leave for a few minutes to steam and lose some of their moisture, then cut in half lengthways and use a teaspoon to scrape out the hairy choke. Brush the cut sides with olive oil. Brush olive oil over the lemon quarters, place on the grill and cook until just charred on one side, about three minutes, then turn and cook on the other side for two to three minutes. Now grill the artichokes cut side down, until the leaves just begin to char ?ɬ¢?¢‚Äö¬¨?¢‚Ǩ?ì about three minutes. Serve with a trickle of olive oil, a sprinkling of sea salt and the grilled lemons to squeeze over the top.

Yoghurty spatchcocked chicken

Even though you have to be careful about controlling the temperature, cooking a whole chicken on the grill is less trouble than fiddling with lots of drumsticks. This really needs to be done on a relatively low barbecue, to avoid burnt-on-the-outside-but-raw-in-the-middle syndrome. If you are not sure how to spatchcock a bird, ask the butcher to do it for you. Serves six.

1 spatchcocked free-range chicken
Salt
For the marinade
8 tbsp whole milk yoghurt
2 garlic cloves, crushed
Juice of ?É‚Äö?Ǭ? lemon
1 tsp ground cumin
1 tsp ground coriander
?É‚Äö?Ǭ? tsp chilli flakes
?É‚Äö?Ǭ? tsp freshly ground black pepper

Mix together all the ingredients for the marinade. Put the chicken in a non-reactive bowl and pour on the marinade. Turn the chicken over with your hands, making sure the marinade gets into every nook and cranny, cover, refrigerate and leave to marinate for at least two hours. Make sure it is at room temperature before grilling. Sprinkle with salt.

Place the bird breast side up towards the edge of the grill where it’s slightly cooler, and cook for 20-25 minutes, then turn over and cook for a further 15-20 minutes, spraying from time to time with a little water if it’s browning too fast. Deploy the lid, if your barbecue has one, or simply use an upturned roasting tin, to reflect the heat back down and semi-roast your barbecuing chicken.

The bird is done when the juices run clear when pierced between the thigh and breast bone (or when it reads 80C on a meat thermometer). Remove from the heat and leave to rest for 10-15 minutes before carving.

Roasted courgette and spring onion tabboule

Courgettes and spring onions are delicious barbecued, but you can also make this salad with other grilled vegetables such as peppers, red onions or aubergines. If you like, toss in some toasted sunflower or pumpkin seeds for crunch and some chopped, dried apricots for sweetness. Serves four to six.

5 courgettes, cut lengthways into 1cm slices
10 spring onions, trimmed
2-3 tbsp olive oil
250g bulgur wheat or couscous
1 lemon, zested and juiced
1 handful fresh mint, tough stalks removed and chopped
1 handful fresh parsley, tough stalks removed and chopped
Salt and freshly ground black pepper

Brush the courgettes and onions with oil and grill, turning from time to time, for about five minutes, until lightly charred and tender.

Cook the bulgur wheat or couscous according to the packet instructions, toss with the zest of half the lemon, a good squeeze of lemon juice, a trickle of oil and the herbs, season and serve with the grilled vegetables.

?ɬ¢?¢‚Äö¬¨?Ǭ¢ Want to join us for one of our Build And Bake courses? Weekend readers get 10% off the usual price. For details, call Alex on 01297 630302 and mention the Guardian, or go to rivercottage.net.

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There are few dishes that can’t be improved by the addition of a small handful of seeds

I’m feeling seedy today, but there’s no three-day stubble or whiff of cheap booze involved, I promise. In fact, it couldn’t be more wholesome. I’m simply hungry for the reproductive organs of plants ?ɬ¢?¢‚Äö¬¨?¢‚Ǩ?ì the sort of seeds you might throw into a pan or mixing bowl. These microdots of flavour punch way above their weight in the kitchen, though that’s hardly surprising when you consider that a whole future plant ?ɬ¢?¢‚Äö¬¨?¢‚Ǩ?ì and all of its potential, flavour and promise ?ɬ¢?¢‚Äö¬¨?¢‚Ǩ?ì is contained within their gritty carapaces.

The happy crunch of poppy, the aniseedy bite of fennel, the creamy sweetness of sesame are what’s preoccupying me in today’s recipes, but these aren’t the only seeds in my larder. Cumin and coriander are scattered liberally throughout some of my favourite spice blends, pastes and rubs, while pumpkin and sunflower find their way into my breads, salads and breakfast muesli.

Of course, you can sprinkle, pound and stir seeds just as they are, but their flavour is magnified by toasting. Think of coriander seeds, grassy and almost soapy in their natural state, yet given a much greater depth of flavour with the introduction of a little heat. Or, indeed, pine nuts. Raw, they’re more of a texture than a flavour. It takes toasting to bring out their true complexity and richness. To toast seeds, warm them gently in a dry frying pan until they just begin to release their aroma, then tip them on to a plate to stop them cooking. Don’t be tempted to multitask at this point. They can burn in the time it takes to turn on the dishwasher or take out the rubbish.

Many seeds turn rancid quickly because they are so rich in oils, so buy them only in small quantities and/or store them in airtight containers in the fridge or freezer so you don’t lose a scrap of flavour.

Once you have your stash, the possibilities are limitless. Sprinkle toasted pumpkin, sunflower or sesame seeds on to salads, or enjoy them speckled over the surface of, or mixed into, the dough of your bread, bun or scone. Toss them into stir-fries or pilaffs, or scatter them over roasted or steamed veg. Pounded and mixed with chopped herbs, perhaps with some citrus zest and breadcrumbs, too, some seeds make a good coating for grilled fish or meat ?ɬ¢?¢‚Äö¬¨?¢‚Ǩ?ì try coriander seeds with some thyme and lemon zest on pork, or sesame seeds, breadcrumbs and lemon zest on meaty fish fillets.

Experiment, play, scatter with abandon?ɬ¢?¢‚Äö¬¨?Ǭ¶ Some may land on thorny ground, but most will thrive and prosper. At least until you scoff them, that is.

Poppyseed lemon cake

This is a deliciously moist and tangy cake, speckled with a blizzard of poppy seeds. It keeps really well, too, if you’re the self-restrained sort. Makes one 23cm cake.

170g plain flour
?É‚Äö?Ǭ? tsp salt
1 tsp bicarbonate of soda
?É‚Äö?Ǭ? tsp baking powder
50g poppy seeds
Zest of 2 large lemons
170g unsalted butter, softened
170g caster sugar
4 eggs, separated
170g wholemilk yoghurt
2 tsp vanilla extract

For the syrup
Juice of 2 large lemons
5 tbsp icing sugar
Zest of 1 lemon, pared off with vegetable peeler and cut into thin strips
1 tbsp icing sugar, for sifting

Heat the oven to 180C/350F/gas mark 4. Butter a 23cm springform cake tin and dust with flour.

Sieve together the flour, salt, bicarb and baking powder. Stir in the poppy seeds and lemon zest. Beat together the butter and 120g of sugar until light and fluffy. In a jug, whisk together the egg yolks, yoghurt and vanilla

In a scrupulously clean bowl, beat the egg whites with a pinch of salt until they hold soft peaks. Add the remaining sugar a spoonful at a time, beating until the meringue mix holds stiff peaks.

Beat the flour mixture and the egg mixture alternately into the butter and sugar, starting and ending with the flour (ie, flour/eggs/flour/eggs/flour). Stir about a third of the meringue mixture into the batter to lighten it, then gently fold in the rest. Spoon the cake mix into the tin, smooth the top and bake for 40-45 minutes, until a toothpick comes out clean.

While the cake is baking, make the syrup. Combine the juice, sugar and zest in a small saucepan and heat gently, stirring, until the sugar is dissolved. Simmer for two minutes, then remove from the heat.

Take the cake out of the oven and spike all over the top with a skewer. Pour the syrup over, letting it trickle over the top and down the sides. Leave to cool in the tin, then dust with icing sugar before serving.

Fennel meatballs

The Italians love the combination of pork and fennel, and I think they’re on to a winner. Try this mixture as meatballs, or turn it into burgers. Serves six.

200g bread from a good white loaf, crusts removed and torn into rough pieces
200ml whole milk
3 garlic cloves, chopped
3 tsp fennel seeds, lightly toasted
?É‚Äö?Ǭ? tsp freshly ground black pepper
1?É‚Äö?Ǭ? tbsp salt
500g minced beef
750g minced pork, coarse if possible
1 onion, finely diced
8 tbsp minced flat leaf parsley
2 tbsp minced fresh oregano
60g parmesan, finely grated
1 egg, plus 1 yolk
2 tbsp olive oil
Tagliatelle, to serve

For the tomato sauce
3 tbsp olive oil
1 onion, peeled and finely chopped
1 carrot, finely diced
1 small celery stick, finely diced
3 garlic cloves, thinly sliced
2 800g tins good-quality chopped tomatoes
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
Sugar

First make the sauce. Heat the oil in a saucepan over medium-low heat and saut?É?í?Ǭ© the onion until softened and just beginning to turn golden. Add the carrot and celery, fry for five minutes, then add the garlic and cook for a couple of minutes more. Tip in the tomatoes, season and bring to a simmer. Reduce the heat and cook until the sauce is slightly thickened, about 20 minutes. Adjust the seasoning, and add a pinch of sugar if it’s a touch acidic.

To make the meatballs, put the bread into a bowl, pour the milk over the top and leave to soak for 15 minutes. While it’s soaking, pound the garlic, fennel, salt and pepper in a pestle and mortar until you have a rough paste.

Mix the beef and pork in a large bowl with the bread, onion, fennel paste, parsley, oregano and parmesan until well combined. Stir in the eggs until just incorporated. Fry off a small piece of the meatball mix to test for seasoning, and adjust accordingly. Using your hands, roll the mix into meatballs of about 5cm in diameter.

Heat the oil in a large frying pan over medium heat. Brown the meatballs well on all sides (you may have to do this in batches), then transfer them to a heavy casserole. Pour the tomato sauce over the meatballs, give the pan a gentle shake and bring to a simmer. Cook, partially covered, for about an hour, stirring from time to time. Serve with tagliatelle.

Sesame dressing

This is great trickled over roasted, grilled or barbecued steak, chicken or asparagus.

3 tbsp tahini
Juice of ?É‚Äö?Ǭ? lemon
1 tbsp soy sauce
1 tsp finely grated ginger
1 clove garlic, finely minced
2 tbsp sesame seeds, toasted
2 tbsp finely chopped parsley or coriander

In a pestle and mortar, pound the tahini, lemon juice, soy, ginger and garlic (or blitz them in a blender). Thin with about 80ml of hot water, or as much as is needed to get the mix to the consistency of double cream. Now either stir in the sesame seeds and parsley or coriander and use within a couple of hours, or store for a few days, sealed in a jar in the fridge, and add the sesame and herbs an hour or so before serving

?ɬ¢?¢‚Äö¬¨?Ǭ¢ Desperate to grow your own but no space to do it in? Hugh may be able to help. Go to landshare.net for details.

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