Busy

I've been insanity busy with a project for the last two weeks, only allowing myself time off to go and watch some Olympic football which in my (wrong) opinion is more interesting than Premiership football.
Here's what I managed to cook before I lost my mind and delegated the kitchen to the bf.

Southern Fried Chicken, from the I Love Elvis Cokbook

Maybe I do love Elvis, but this was gross.

Tuna Empanada from The New Spanish Table via Tipsy Baker

This was better than good, although at the bf's insistence I omitted the raisins. He brought a piece to his Spanish mother and she gave it the ultimate seal of approval, this one is getting copied into my sacred recipe book.

French 75, again via Tipsy Baker

Incredibly delicious and makes cheap Cava seem decadent, a fine way to use up some turpentinesque Gordons gin we had left over from a party, can't wait to try it with a nicer spirit.

I also ordered the Mourad cookbook because Tipsy Baker featured it and I'm curious about the fig leaf ice cream. So curious that I've already identified the neighborhood tree I'll get the leaves from and met the neighbor who's permission I need.
I'm completely obsessed with Tipsy Baker, in case anyone hasn't noticed. Jennifer Reese has the exact same taste I do, if she makes a recipe or recommends a book I'm on it like a car bonnet (really). Her blog made me want to start my own blog - not for notoriety, but to document experiments, broaden horizons and keep track of dishes I like.
I also like the fact that she occasionally submits articles to Slate, comparing things to other things. Love

Best drinking game ever!

I thought I was a real pro at drinking games, I had me the Deborah Meaden (watch Dragon's Den, take a drink every time Deborah says 'I just don't understand it'), the Nigel Slater (watch any one of his shows, take a drink every time it sounds like he's talking about sex. This one will put you in a coma, it's chronic, this is him talking about rhubarb "It comes easily if you pull it"), the electronic scale (pour a drink and put it on the scale, you and a partner have to take exactly 10ml sips until the drink is gone, whoever comes closest wins another drink); but this is the best, I'm so excited I can barely keep my pants on (do you drink with your pants on? la-di-dah, look at Mr Fancy), you type in what you're listening to and this site tells you what to drink! I tried with with some really obscure bands and it's pretty knowledgeable. Truly a game changer in the world of drinking.

Aviation dinner

Pan Am is a new show coming out in the States, and while I don't have a particular 60s obsession I don have a Christina Ricci obsession.
I loved Addams Family so much when I was younger, my mum had to have a serious conversation with me about not drinking poison and electrocuting myself. I've watched everything Christina Ricci was in and totally wanted to be her until she lost a ton of weight and got a spot on Ally McBeal. Anyway, I can't wait until it comes out over here and I can start comparing it to Mad Men.
A few months ago, when I was in the throes of Aviation admiration I decided that airline food is actually a glamorous, sophisticated institution and decided to recreated it on solid land. Less life imitation art and more Plato's Theory of Forms, whereby you cannot really know what is real because all you have known up until now could have been a shadow of reality. Who is to say airline food is an inferior kind of food, it might not even be food at all, it's like comparing a chair to a painting of a chair - two totally different things.

Researching airline meals is actually a very fun thing to do, especially if you only have very limited personal experience. The first stop should definitely be Airline Meals, which catalogs reader submitted photos of airline meals (believe it or not). You can spend hours trying to decide what the brown stuff is or how sticky the tray looks, but ultimately it's way too much information.
When I went to University one of the 'rules' we had for writing essays was to quote at least three sources to back up our ideas (yeah, it wasn't a very good university), so I didn't feel comfortable making a decision without some more input. I asked around, and nobody could tell me the last thing they had to eat on a plane. Most airlines don't publish their menus online, but if you're willing to wait for it someone will eventually put a vintage one up for sale on Ebay. I hit the jackpot and got 10 identical PanAm menus from the 60s.
These feel really special, the menu inside is exactly the same but each cover depicts a different destination, exotics such a Yugoslavia, Japan and Portugal etc. The meal on offer, in French and English, is Leek Soup, Veal Duroc with Buttered Noodles, Salad and Dessert. This is a very interesting article about the cost of airline meals then and now and the reason meals are even being offered on planes, count yourself lucky, buddy boy. And let's just say I ended up spending more than £2.50 per head.
Leek soup
It's actually very very difficult to find a recipe for leek soup, almost everything I found had been fleshed out with potatoes which I suspect are there mainly for texture and dilute the flavour of the leek. Here is the recipe of the leek soup I made (but didn't photograph). The taste is creamy, slightly oniony with a great balance of sweetness with the sour notes. Once blended the colour is jade. Simple and cheap (and popular)
Bit of butter
4 leeks, chopped (green parts too)
4 cloves of garlic, chopped
1 glass of white wine
grind of pepper
1.5 pins of chicken stock

Fry the leeks in butter until soft, add in garlic and wine and cook for 5 minutes. Put in the pepper and stock and cook, covered for 45 minutes. Blend, adjust seasoning.

Veal Duroc
Good luck Googling this one. As well as being a forgotten French sauce named after one of Napoleon's generals, Duroc is also a breed of pork, so recipes will be for roasting pork, chops, sausages. Type in 'Veau Duroc' and you'll get one or two recipes in French, formatted in the most mind boggling way. Below is the recipe I used, it calls for things difficult to find in the supermarket,which I suppose is a good antidote to the austerity soup above. I got the veal in Selfridges (but I'm sure there are more cost effective sources), grew the chervil on the window sill and bought obscene amounts of powdered veal stock in France. The stock was the hardest part, the least cost effective option it to make it yourself, you just aren't ever going to have veal bones just lying around. I made the mistake of buying some liquid veal stock from Fortnum and Masons to use on a dry run and the resulting sauce was bitter and rancid tasting. By chance I saw chubby Knorr tubs of the powdered stock on a supermarket shelf in Chamonix and feverishly swept the whole shelf into my basket (you can buy this on the internet btw), the resultant sauce was sweet and savoury, herby and very very good. What's the big deal, why not just use beef? Because in comparison to veal stock, beef stock tastes like fat boy's farts. Trust me.
10ml oil
100g butter
8 veal medallions
40g flour
250g mushrooms
40g shallots
40ml cognac
1 glass white wine
500ml veal stock
1tbsp tarragon
1tbsp chervil

Heat oil and butter and fry off floured medallions, 7 mins each side. Set aside and fry chopped mushrooms and shallots in the same pan, flambe with brandy and delgaze with wine. Pour in stock and reduce until thick. Pour over medallions and sprinkle with chopped herbs.

Salad
Vertical Pear Salad. I love.

Dessert
This ended up being a little disappointing. Initially I wanted to use this recipe by David Lebovitz, which was supposed the be very similar to the pudding he developed for Virgin Atlantic. But I just didn't like it. It had the taste and texture of Angel Delight, which is a bit meh.
I briefly toyed with the idea of serving the dessert they had on the Hindenburg - that is to say, nothing, but didn't have the balls to be quite so conceptual. I ended up making trifles with grape jelly, and my fondest hope is that everyone was too drunk to pay attention to it.
We hope you enjoyed your flight.

Aviation

Well here I am in the old familial home. The boyfriend and I have decided to solidify our relationship by buying my dad's old house and my office also had a move accross London, which I definitely recommend to anyone who wants to learn a bunch of new swear words, find out how to function on 4 hours of sleep and substitute meals with caffeine and alcohol.
I now leave for work in the morning, and come back a cozy 14 hours later. If I'm lucky the boyfriends will have done a bit of unpacking while I'm away. If I'm very lucky he'll greet me with one of these as I walk through the door
Is this love? I call it love.
The Aviation was created at the beginning of the century in New York and calls for gin, Maraschino liquer, Creme de Violette and lemon juice and tastes like a bunch of flowers in your mouth. It's strong, I like it.
The first sip fills your mouth with gin, the second sip reveals the delicate cherry-nutty flavour of the maraschino and the very slight flowery, fiery violet notes.
It you read any bartender blogs (this one's very good) you'll know that vodka is looked down on in the industry, it's an alcohol that's praised for it's lack of smell and taste, it's only function is to add strength to the drink. Being Russian I of course have my own views and loyalties, but gin is gorgeous. The point of a cocktail is not to get drunk, it's a grown up drink for grown up people to wind down, chillax to the max, and sit in their new house. Cheers.

Vegan cake and a drink

I had some of my stepmother's relatives over for dinner, they're very religious and observe the Lent... religiously, which means totally vegan and alcohol free for the next couple of months.
I got in some falafels and houmous (which it was totally tempting to pretend to have made), olives and artichokes, and made guacamole, cucumber dipping sauce, steamed broccoli, fennel salad and lemon risotto. All of which I forgot to photograph of course.
I made this incredible vegan, flourless orange cake which went down LIKE A FREAKING HOUSE ON FIRE!!! Natasha asked for the recipe, it made me so happy, basically you boil a couple of oranges then blend with tofu, olive oil and ground almonds. Very very grown up, tart and delicious. See? Last little piece left.
But the thing I'm most pleased with (apart from almost reducing the boyfriend to tears when I made him hoover and wash all the floors twice before the guests arrived) is my incredible alcohol free cocktail. You just crush together some raspberries and ice and pour over equal measures of apple juice and tonic. I swear to God it tastes like there's booze in there, that's why I've dubbed it Miley Cyrus. Best served out of vintage girly goblets.
Oh, and everything went smoothly despite it being the freaking Ides of March, and almost nobody got stabbed...

Kissel

I'm going to preface this post by admitting that I'm pretty stupid. Really stupid. Stoooopid actually. This is part two of my battle with Larousse Gastronomique and I seem to be pinned down on the floor again...
Kissel is a drink I remember getting as a treat for good behaviour when I was little, the texture mystified me and I always assumed this was one of those things that my grandma alone knew how to make and there wasn't really a recipe for. Larousse has it all, I almost fell out of my chair when I saw it and I knew there and then that I would do whatever it took to make it, I've been really good this year! This task was complicated by the fact that I can't read properly.
Here's the part of the recipe that I found most confusing: Mix 50g potato flour, cornflour or tapioca into the juice. I spent literally weeks hunting all of London for potato flour, I know I could have ordered in online, if I wanted a 5kg bag, but Internet shopping, there's nothing more satisfying than having the thing right there in your hand (and also all the Christmas present buying I've done made me a little apprehensive about using my credit card, ahem ahem). I finally found the stuff in Planet Organic, which I'm really beginning to hate. Every time I can't find an ingredient in a regular supermarket, it's always there. I don't know why this convenience annoys me, but it does. Bunch of stuck up bastards, who do they think they are!?
Don't mind me, I'm only lashing out because of my own inadequacies. When I finally got down to business it struck me that there is quite a big difference between the words or and and. Really, instead of running around, chasing after potato flour (and tapioca) wildly I could have been relaxing in my kitchen with my safe boring old box of corflour. So now I have a useless overabundance of starch in my kitchen, duh.
Result: I'm serving it in my Moomin mug to liven up something that is basically thickened fruit juice (I can't believe how excited I used to get over this, I guess I really am that stupid).
The book suggests serving it warm or cold, but I remember correctly, the proper way to drink this is as soon as it's made - scalding hot so it burns the roof of your mouth. And then you stick your finger in the cup so a skin forms around it. Yum!
The cranberries are still really sour, all the sugar does is take their tartness away, you can taste all the Vitamin C, as my brother puts is. It really takes me back :). Now all I have to do is figure out how much tapioca pudding I can get away with making...

Banana Cow and Banana Daiquiri

I have a friend who doesn't like bananas (hold on, there's more to this story). We were in a Thai restaurant once, and being the delicate flower of a girl that I am, I tried to get him to share a banana fritter dessert with me. I was then that he made his revelation, accompanied by the sad tale that when he was little his sister pushed a banana up his nose, and he couldn't stand them ever since. So when I heard this I started laughing at him, obviously, and I think he got a bit annoyed (especially when I ordered the dessert anyway). The moral of the story, kids, is that I am the banana cow. This should be my signature drink. If only one of my friends had an ice cream phobia I could make fun of...
I know it's not really very good to get drunk on a Sunday, but I'm sure that when I tell people at work tomorrow that I did it for the blog, they won't mind me stumbling around and throwing up out back behind the recycling bins.

Result: It's pretty mediocre, like a milkshake with no taste other than rum. I made four times as much as the recipe suggests because I was expecting it to be awesome and so had plenty of time to think about it and consider all the flavour facets. It wasn't sweet or banana-y enough, and unlike other sub par cocktails I've had in the past, this didn't get better the more you drank. People kept asking me for a taste, but I valiantly decided that this was my cross to bear and had to keep shooing them away from the blender.
My disappointment naturally necessitated the compilation of another cocktail, the banana daiquiri has lemons instead of milk in it, and it was much better. I was pretty tipsy and tired by now, but obviously if it has bananas AND lemons in it, it must be good for you and so I felt I had a duty to myself to drink it.
It was a perfect mix, a real girl's drink, and why don't I order this in the pub next time! ;)