How to use up leftovers: riso alla Cantonese (or Yeung Chow fried rice) fried in duck fat

Alternative title: Chinese food that really isn't Chinese

Most of us are aware that the Chinese food we eat is often heavily bastardized. I still haven't had the privilege of eating the authentic thing, but between NY and Milan (the latter appartently boasts the largest and oldest Chinatown in Italy), I have been lucky enough to get a little closer to the real deal compared to the food we are so often served on this side of the world.

Taking a step back, I think even the concept of Chinese food is a foreign invention, because it is such a regional cuisine, with dishes and ingredients varying enourmously from one part of the country to the other. Much like Italy might I add. Another thing to consider is that meat does not often take center stage in an authentic Chinese meal, leaving much more room for fermented foods and tofu, and when it does, the cuts, the kind of animals (insects and jelly fish just to mention a few alongside pork, chicken and beef...) and animal parts used (chicken feet, duck tongues, pig ears and blood are just a few examples) are often not quite suited to Western palates (although many of us are becoming more adventurous and curious eaters). The same goes for certain flavors: chefs often add sweetness (sweet and sour pork anyone?) or dial down the heat or fermentation factor to appease their local clientele. Last but not least, many authentic ingredients never make it over to our side of the world, so we substitute them with more common ones. And when they do, it is sometimes hard for a Westerner to order them (more often than not, they are listed in Chinese or simply a given and not even put on the menu). I like looking at what my Chinese neighbors are eating and whenever I enquire with the person serving us about certain unknown vegetables, they don't even seem to have a translation for them. The answer is invariably "verdura verde cinese", or green Chinese vegetable.

Persian rice Tah Cheen (or Tah Chin) style, step-by-step tutorial

 

 

The other day, while we were having dinner, my son asked me why nests don't fall off of trees.

Besides the basic grasp - if not understanding - of physics (balance, gravity and all that jazz) behind the question, which surprised me to a degree, it once again made me realize how much more for granted we take things compared to the average four year old.  

 

He usually asks the best questions at the table.

 

Once he was staring quietly at his hands with great interest. He then proceeded  to ask me what the lines were, pointing at the wrinkles on his knuckles.

 

Another question he asked me recently at the table that made me smile: why do they put plastic on eggs? He was eating sunny side up eggs and pointing at that transparent film that forms around the edges. Basically he had been eating it his whole life convinced it was Saran wrap (or cling film for those of you non Americans).

 

Not to mention he calls all meat chicken, so a normal enquiry at dinner will be: from what animal does the chicken we are eating come from?

 

 

 

I guess we can all agree that the questions a four-year old asks are priceless. But us adults have questions too. One of the things I always wondered about was how Persians make that delicious crunchy layer on their rice.  

Japanese curry

 

 

When you think curry, the first place that comes to mind is probably India followed by the UK and finally South East Asia with its multicolored variations.

What many of you might not know is that curry can be considered one of Japan's national dishes due to its popularity. It is served with rice, noodles or even as a soup and can be made with an incredible range of ingredients. This extremely widespread dish was introduced by the British back in the 19th century (the British Navy used to add curry powder to their otherwise traditional stews) and has become a more Westernized version of Indian curry as a result. Curry rice is probably the most popular kind (so much so that it is commonly just called curry) and is usually made with beef, pork or chicken and vegetables like carrots, potatoes and onions (but peas and mushrooms are popular too). Although it was originally cooked by preparing a roux with flour, oil and curry powder, nowadays adding instant roux - sold in blocks or powder - to the meat and vegetable stew is the most common way to make it. The blocks look like chocolate bars and come in varying degrees of spiciness: mild, medium hot and very hot.

 

 

 

 

The first time I had Japanese curry was in the early Nineties. My flatmate had sublet her room for the summer, I was still finishing my last exams at university before summer vacation, and so for a few weeks I crossed paths with a sweet, shy Japanese girl called Keiko. She was in Milan for the summer to study fashion design and one evening she said she would make us dinner. Those were the days when there were two, maybe three Japanese restaurants in town. The Japanese food trend had not caught on yet and the strange ingredients (raw fish! seaweed!) and high prices were eyed suspiciously by my friends. When a craving for sushi hit I usually went out to dinner with an English friend but it was not something we could do that often on a student budget. Naturally, I was over the moon at the thought of eating authentic Japanese food right in my very own kitchen.

 

 

A more liquid version you could eat with noodles

 

The last thing I expected upon entering the apartment, however, was the smell of curry. Keiko smiled at my surprised expression and explained it was one of her family's favorite meals. I dug in enthusiastically and loved it from the first bite.

 

Since then it has become a favorite of mine too. Back in the day I had to go to the only Japanese food store around to buy it and it was quite pricey. Now I can pretty much buy it in any Asian grocery (which have sprung up like mushrooms alongside the many Japanese restaurants in the city - there are at least 6 of them in a 5 minute walking radius from our apartment now) for under 5 euro and can whip up an authentic Japanese meal in under an hour!

 

It is one of those perfect pantry items to always have handy: it is simple to make, it is a crowd pleaser and an inexpensive and easy option to feed a large group. If you are not a meat lover, you can make a vegetarian/pescatarian version with shrimp or your favorite vegetables.

 

Asian beef stew with Thai garnish (+ how to make another meal out of it)

 

  

On Monday morning I went to work in a wet mess of snow mixed with rain. My throat was sore, my nose was tickling and my eyes were stinging, the beginning of a horrendous cold. Yesterday, however, it was a beautiful day: it was sunny, the air was clean, the sky was a clear blue. When the sun shines these days, it shines a little warmer, the air instantly turns balmy, everything looks brighter. Then, a cloud covers the sun and the chill in the air envelops you, reminding you are still in the grip of the icy fingers of winter.

 



First of two batches



 

This dish sort of reminds me of this time of the year, when it is definitely still winter but little hints of spring start showing up here and there. The stew is hearty, warming, bursting with the flavors from the Far East. While it bubbles on the stove and cooks slowly, ever so slowly, in the oven it pleasantly warms up your kitchen. But mind you, it is not a heavy meal. The meat is tender and lean, the sauce is far from rich, more of an intensely flavored and tinted broth. Every bite is accompanied by the fresh, brightly colored hot and sour Thai salad it is served with. The tangyness of the lime juice, the umami from the fish sauce, the crisp and cool julienned vegetables, the bite from the chilli peppers and the potent aroma of the coriander leaves all contribute to that feeling of spring that is slowly creeping into all things winter.

 

 

Don't be scared off by the list of ingredients, if you already cook Asian-inspired recipes at home, you will already have most, it not all, of them in your kitchen. And if you don't it is not a big deal: I used Mirin instead of Chinese wine, small red chilli peppers instead of large red and green ones, cinnamon powder instead of sticks. I also realized that I forgot to add in the ground coriander at the beginning while I was writing out the ingredients for you. It turned out great anyway. The procedure is extremely simple and allows you to prepare ahead of time: a perfect dinner party dish. All it requires is a few hours of unattended slow cooking (I was taking measurements at Ikea while this baby was in the oven). The flavors are wonderful (even my half Thai friend loved it and asked me for the recipe) and the meat just falls apart at the touch of your fork.

1. Sauté ginger, garlic and onion; 2. add stock; 3. add sauces and spices; 4. boil down sauce once meat is ready.

 

A few notes:

Nigella (Lawson of course) suggests making this with ginger mashed potatoes and parsnips, which I'm sure is delicious, but I just couldn't be bothered and made it with basmati rice instead, which worked perfectly to soak up the sauce.

If you end up not using all of the sauce (I used boneless meat  - she suggests either or - so that could be why... less bulk), DO NOT throw it away! Store it in a jar in the fridge for future use.

On Monday, to nurse my cold, I heated up some stock, poured in a few tablespoons of said sauce and then dumped in the leftover basmati rice: the most perfect meal for a congested head and chest and a runny nose. I loved it so much I decided I wanted to integrate it into our dinner. I had some tuna that I had bought a couple of days prior that needed using up. I heated some more stock, mixed in the rest of the jar of sauce and then added in some rice noodles. On the side, I sauteed some rapini in a pan with olive oil and garlic. Last, I seared the tuna steaks coated in sesame seeds and then cut them into thin slices. I served all the ingredients in a bowl with spoons and chop sticks. Success all the way round!

 

I am telling you, there is nothing better than a meal that yields one, or even two more!

 

 

Risotto al finocchio, or fennel risotto

I was standing at my kitchen counter slicing, stirring and thinking. I was thinking about life, how much - or rather how little - time we have. I was thinking about how we all want to leave a mark in this world, how we all want to be remembered.

 

Not everyone is born an artist, a genius with words, notes, paintbrushes; not all of us have magic in their hands. We don't all excel in our careers or have children to pass on our genes, our teachings, our experience. But I think we all strive to be remembered, we all want our life to have had a meaning, to have left some sort of an impact.

 

I kept stirring and musing. I was making a family favorite, risotto, using a totally new ingredient, the humblest of vegetables. I had never once heard of or even thought of making risotto with fennel bulbs until recently. I ask myself why, now that I have experienced the delightful creamy, delicate yet almost buttery flavor fennel imparts.

 

Risotto ai finferli (with chanterelle mushrooms)

 

 

It is still quite warm in this corner of the world but you can definitely tell fall has arrived when walking through the market stands. Figs, pumpkins, apples, chestnuts, grapes everywhere. I couldn't resist when I saw a bright yellow basket of chanterelles the other day (although I was not quite as excited while I stood in my kitchen cleaning them). There really is nothing better for an early Sunday dinner than a nice, creamy risotto that tastes like the forest in autumn.

 

You can pretty much put anything you fancy into a risotto but there are a few things that are a must in my book and that involve a lot of Italian words like al dente, all'onda, mantecazione, Vialone nano and Carnaroli.

 

Go here if you want to find out what any those words mean or if you need a risotto tutorial. I made an exception to one of my rules and used chicken stock to make my mushroom risotto instead of vegetable stock because I had some homemade stock in the freezer and I thought it would add flavor to the dish.

 

The amounts below are approximate. 

 

 

 

 

Ingredients (5/6 servings)

500gr chanterelle mushrooms (finferli)

500gr rice

vegetable/chicken stock

2-3 tbsp butter

oil

1/2 cup parsley, chopped

2-3 cloves garlic, chopped

1 cup grated Parmesan cheese

pepper for garnish

 

Clean and chop the mushrooms into bite size pieces. Heat olive oil in a heavy-based pot and the stock in a separate pot. Peel and chop up a couple of cloves of garlic and lightly brown in the oil. Add in the mushrooms and a most of the parsley (set aside a little for garnish) and cook a few minutes before toasting the rice. Cook the risotto following the tutorial. Remember to add the butter and grated Parmesan cheese a few minutes before serving, making sure you mix fast to release the starch. Garnish with a little more parsley, a good sprinkling of Parmesan cheese and pepper.

For a vegetarian dish, substitute chicken stock for vegetable stock.

 

 

 

 

Oriental wisdom: one chicken, two meals for the body and soul

It is a real grey, wet Sunday. Rain, rain, rain.

As I am sitting in front of my computer sorting through the recipes I have lined up for you, I am listening to my kids playing in the other room. There is squealing and laughter. I hear some loud sounds, then a thud. More laughter. And then come the tears and shouting, one of the many fights between siblings that take place every hour at our house. I just checked on them a few minutes ago and restored the peace. I am not getting up again, they have to learn to sort things out on their own.

A car passes outside my window. I hear the water from a puddle splashing onto the sidewalk. It is good to be home. I listen to the familiar sound of the referee's whistle and the audience chanting and cheering on TV as F. lies on the couch in the living room watching the Sunday game.

Half of Italy is underwater this today, not just Venice. The levels of the Po river are rising alarmingly and many cities in Piedmont are at risk. Liguria, Genoa in particular, is on its knees. Hundreds of people are working and digging, the city is reacting. This will not bring back the people who died, it will not give the two children back the life that lay ahead of them. That is how the world goes. Some of us sit in the warmth and safety of our homes while others grieve the loss of their loved ones. Unfortunately this happens every day, everywhere.

But for today my thoughts go out to those families. In Genoa, in Naples, in Thailand.

This recipe warms the body, the heart, the soul. The chicken is tender, the broth savory and complex. On the first day, it is delicous on the rice you serve with the chicken. The second day it reaches a whole new level as a soup in its own standing, with little nuggets of meat, any seasonal vegetable you care to add and some noodles of choice.

It is true what they say, chicken soup for the body and for the soul.

When I saw this recipe posted on Not Quite Nigella, I knew I had to make it. She adapted it from a recipe published by Marion Grasby. Thanks Lorraine, thanks Marion! This has become a new family favorite.

Ingredients for chicken

1 bunch coriander/cilantro

garlic, 10 cloves

black peppercorns, about 10

5 whole star anise

a whole chicken

water

1/2 cup dark soy sauce (I used regular, my chicken didn't turn out as dark Lorraine's)

1/4 cup fish sauce

3 tbsp brown sugar 

rice

Ingredients for soup

Leftover stock (and chicken if you have any left) from chicken

pumpkin (I used some leftover roasted pumpkin)

Swiss chard

bonito flakes

udon noodles

Cut the coriander, roots and leaves, and set aside some leaves for garnish. Place the rest in a mortar with the peeled garlic and pepper and bash until you obtain a paste. In a large pot, preferably cast iron, cook the paste in a little vegetable oil for about a minute. Add the whole chicken and brown on each side. Next add in the soy sauce, the fish sauce, the star anise and the sugar. Then pour in enough cold water to cover or almost cover the chicken (if it doesn't, you can turn the chicken over halfway through).

Let  simmer for about one hour.  In the meantime cook or steam some white rice.

After an hour lift the chicken out of the stock and place on a serving plate and let it cool.

Save the stock and use it to make a soup, adding seasonal vegetables, noodles and sprinkling with some bonito flakes for that extra umami if you have any on hand.

Lorraine also suggests using the stock in the place of water to make a savory rice dish.

Oh, by the way, if you feel like playing a guessing game, hop on over here. Although if you read this blog, you already know the answer!

For Monet

One of the things that surprised me the most when I started blogging was becoming part of a community. The blogosphere may be a virtual place, but everything about the support, the friendship and the comraderie that thrives in the foodie blogging community is real. I have seen virtual babyshowers held for expecting moms that live on the other side of the world. I have gotten teary over pictures of children and laughed until my stomach hurt over stories about them. I have felt emotional reading posts about mothers, fathers, sisters and brothers, friends and partners. We spend time with these people pretty much every day, we often read their innermost thoughts. Time passes and we become friends, without really even noticing it.

The story that touched me the most since I entered this world was Monet's. She is a young, inspired and inspirational young woman who has been through a lot of hardship in the past years. A few months ago she lost some close members of her family in a tragic accident and through her words we have been experiencing her pain, her bereavement, her rediscovery of the small joys of life, things that make her smile.

When all this happened two of her blogging friends, Liz and Kate, decided to do something that would let Monet know that many of her followers were thinking of her, there for her, close to her. Since we are all united by the love of food and creating it, they thought it would be nice to create a book of comforting recipes. They asked each of us to send one from our blog that warms our souls and that brings us comfort. They then worked hard and long to put them all together and send her the book.

Monet has asked that we all share our recipes today.

I am honored to share my recipe, to be a part of this community. To Monet and her family, but mostly to Pam and to Jeremy.

Click on the link below for the full recipe and post.

Ossobuco with risotto alla Milanese

Insalata di riso - Italian rice salad

I take my bike to work all year long, rain or shine, but now is my favorite time of the year. When I ride to work at 7am it is still cool, the city is quiet and the sky is already blue. Yesterday, while I was riding down the newly-built bike lanes in the center (an effort made for the recent mayoral elections), I had to come to a screeching halt because a pidgeon was crossing the street on a pedestrian crossing. When I saw the bird in the distance I slowed down to give it time to notice me and fly off. But no, it just looked at me and then turned back and continued walking. The nerve, but I guess it had right of way!

Back to the summer, last year I mentioned that there are a few extremely typical Italian summer dishes, the kinds pretty much every household starts making as soon as the hot sun starts shining down on the peninsula. Insalata di riso, one of the most popular Italian dishes yet one of the least known abroad, is one of those and there are as many variations of this dish as there are families making it.

There are however some basic ingredients any insalata di riso must have and strangely enough, none of these are fresh produce, despite the season. What makes it a summer dish par excellence is that it is served cold. These ingredients are cheese, ham, franks, pickled vegetables, tuna. Once you have the basics, you can go crazy.

The cheese should be semi hard: Swiss, fontina or other usually depending on what your grandma used.

Franks: yup, good 'ole hot dogs, possibly best quality.

Ham, or prosciutto cotto. Some like it in cubes and some thinly sliced and then cut up (can you guess how I like it?) .

Tuna in oil is also a really important ingredient, but whether you keep the oil for added flavor is your call.

Pickled vegetables: usually pickles, pearl onions and artichoke hearts are a must, but many like to add other vegetables like peppers or mushrooms.

Some people add olives. I like the Spanish anchovy-filled ones. Most like capers.

Some even add fresh ingredients like tomatoes and you can of course substitute the rice with brown rice, barley or farro. You can make it with pretty much anything that suits your fancy, giving it an oriental kick or keeping it vegetarian. I however wanted to present you with the traditional version, so you can all feel a little Italian this summer.

There is no real recipe because it is up to you to decide what ingredients to use and how much of them to use. Just promise me one thing: try to buy best-quality ingredients because it makes all the difference in this kind of dish. I was never partial to this rice growing up because there are some pretty nasty versions out there, skimping on quality, an absolute no-no in my book when it comes to preserves and cured meats. I admit it, I get very easily grossed out put off by an unappetizing, weird looking chunk of ham or waxy, tasteless olives.

Basically, you boil some rice in water, you rinse it and let it cool and dry. In the meantime you chop up all the ingredients (to give you an idea I used a jar of each preserve, 2 medium sized cans of tuna, 3 frankfurters - no need to cook them - a nice wedge of Swiss cheese and about 8 thin slices of ham for approximately 500gr of rice) and then you mix them all into the rice. The rice should be rich, never dry, but you don't really need to add any seasoning as the saltiness should come from the ingredients and the water you boiled the rice with and the oil and vinegar from the preserves. Once it is ready, store it in the fridge until serving. It is a typical potluck, BBQ or picnic dish.

Jamie Oliver's curry

We spent most of Saturday backing up all of our digital photos on the new external hard drive we purchased and downloading tons of our old CDs onto my iPod. We have been meaning to do this for months, years actually, and somehow never got around to it. CDs and back-up DVDs fill entire drawers of our apartment. Isn't it weird that before all this technology we just had photographs and negatives, yet we did not live in constant fear of losing them? I mean, let's face it, paper is certainly more delicate then a hard drive, a DVD/CD or even the forerunner, the good 'ole floppy disk. Despite this, we never seemed worried about fires, burglars or a flood destroying all those special moments captured on film. Now I constantly think about what would happen if we lost all those precious mementos of our travels and our children growing up because of a theft or a simple tech problem. I still feel the need to print them out, because there is nothing like flipping through an actual photo album and because somehow the printed rectangle of paper seems safer than a small piece of plastic that contains my life.

So, anyhow, six hours later I was feeling pretty darn good about myself, until not one, but two girlfriends told me in rapid succession that they have two external hard disks: a portable one they take on their trips for safe keeping in case of theft or damage and to keep backing up whilst away from home and a larger one at home as their real back up.

So I am an old fart, there it is, plain and simple. I am not as savvy as I thought I was. I thought I was doing pretty well thanks to my techy husband, his knowledge and gifts. Thanks to my blog, my iPhone, my iPod, my Kindle, my digital cameras, plasma screens and so forth. I tweet, I Skype, I download Apps, I do FB. You name it, I've been there and done it. Or so I thought. The truth is, I was really only ahead of the game when I was 12, when I had to help my Nana set up her VCR, when I was a Space Invaders champ, when a Walk Man was the natural extension of my arm. I was still pretty much up there when I got my first Palm Pilot and snubbed my trustworthy Filofax, or when I could send a text message at the speed of light when most Americans didn't even own a cell phone yet. But now, I am my grandmother. Even my own mother is more high tech than I am these days. My father-in-law let me use his iPad last week end in Elba and my iPhone is his hand-me-down.

And there I was feeling good about my external hard drive and downloading the hundreds of CDs the rest of the world downloaded on their iPod about five years ago.

Another thing I was feeling good about was this curry.

I admit it, making curry is still new and exciting to me. Not cooking things with curry, I mean actually making it from scratch. It turns out it is pretty darn quick to make and easy too and I still can't get over the fact that I made this dish exclusively using household staples. Ok, so many of you are probably thinking turmeric isn't really a staple in their house, but believe me, if you stock up on the basic spices of Indian cuisine you can use them for endless recipes. They are pretty inexpensive (luckily this isn't the Middle Ages) and they keep for a long time if stored correctly. I came up with this great meal with a desperately empty fridge. Luckily I had a chicken breast in the freezer.

This curry is adapted from one of Jamie Oliver's many curry recipes. I know it is not the most authentic curry recipe, but Jamie has a way of making those of us who are not experts or who do not have an Indian mum feel a little less intimidated. I was missing a couple of the ingredients (lentils and red pepper) and kept it pretty mild for the kids, but it took only an hour to prep and cook and tasted fabulous.

But then again, maybe you have been making your own curry from scratch for years.

You will need a food processor or hand blender to make this.

Ossobuco alla milanese (or braised veal shanks)

He sat on the scaffolding suspended from the cupola and shook his wrist for a few seconds, trying to ease the cramping of his fingers. He had been working on this window depicting St. Joseph for an hour, or maybe more he decided looking through the beautiful stained glass at the sun, which had moved considerably higher since he had last checked. Vincenzo had arrived from Leuven, Flanders with many others from all over Europe to work in the Venerable Factory of the Duomo, the construction site for the enormous gothic cathedral that was being built in the wealthy Duchy of Milan. The colors of his glass were renown because they were particularly striking, especially the yellow inserts. His secret was that he always added a touch of saffron when preparing the glass.  He decided to stop for a quick lunch, suspended in the air because there was always much to do and little time to climb down and chat with the others. He had brought a bowl of rice, which grew plentiful in the countryside surrounding the city and was cheap to buy, to work. He untied the knot in the cloth that he had wrapped his lunch in and just as he was moving his work utensils to the side, a fellow worker hollered from the scaffolding above.

"Perfundavalle! Buon appetito!".

Startled, he knocked over a tiny jar of the precious saffron he carried with his tools at all times and a little fell into the wooden bowl of rice. Vae! he mumbled in Latin, this was not good. So much waste of prized saffron and a ruined lunch! His stomach grumbled as he thought about what to do. He decided to taste the rice anyway, he was too hungry to wait till sunset and he had some wine to wash it down with. After all, saffron was a plant, how bad could it be? He stuck his fingers in the bowl, took a few kernels of rice, closed his eyes and stuffed them in his mouth. He chewed slowly, ready to spit out the offending bite. He chewed some more and sides of his mouth turned up into a big smile. This was delicious! Who would have ever thought saffron was so good? And the rice looked as beautiful as it tasted, with its yellow hue.

That is how the legend goes, regarding the birth of Milan's most famous dish, risotto giallo or allo zafferano. It is a versatile dish that can be eaten many different ways, as a first course or as a main course served with ossobuco, like the recipe I posted. It is always good to make in abundance so you have leftovers for riso al salto the next day, a crunchy, thin, pan-fried version of the rice beloved to all Milanese.

As you may or may have not have noticed, it has been a while since I last posted. I was offered a very interesting work opportunity last week that I couldn't turn down, despite the deadline being atrociously near, the amount of work being quite daunting and the fact that I have a full time job and pretty noisy children. This job involves writing, translating, researching to a certain extent. I am reading a lot on historical and artistic facts about the Duomo, Milan's cathedral.

It just so happened that when I received the file on the Duomo in my mailbox, I had 4 ossobuchi defrosting in my fridge. The more I read and wrote about the past glory of this town and the immense human and artistic effort made for decades, even centuries, to build the cathedral, the more I was excited to be preparing this dish for my family. Besides being one of F's favorite dishes, it somehow just made sense with its perfect timing, it made me feel connected to this city that often seems unattractive but that has some beautiful hidden secrets if you are willing to scratch a little beneath the surface. And so here is my ode to Milan, Oss bus a la milanesa con gremolata.

Sudanese shorba

The thing I love the most about food blogging is that I get inspired to try things I normally never would. I love reading blogs from all over the world and enthusiastically absorb all I can from foreign cultures.

I know very little of is African cuisine. If you can actually even talk about a generalized African food culture as it ecompasses a great variety of foods. There are lots of African restaurants in Milan, with a preponderance of Eritrean and Ethiopian cuisine due to the unfortunate recent historical link between Italy and these countries. I have tasted their food and liked it and I have travelled to Maghreb and enjoyed their cuisine, but that is where my knowledge ends. I know close to nothing about Sub-Saharan African food.

Recently this one recipe kept on popping up everywhere around me. I first watched it being made on a British food show and was intrigued by the ingredients. It stuck somewhere in the back of my mind, although I had no recollection of the name or country of origin of this dish. Then, following the Foodbuzz Project Food Blog, I came across the same recipe in Joan's Foodalogue. There were those familiar ingredients! I was intrigued all over again. The idea of making a hearty vegetable and lamb soup (I love lamb) and giving it an extra twist by adding peanut butter and lemon juice at the end to thicken it up was suddenly irresistible to me. This had to be our Saturday dinner.