See the first recipes page for discussion of why I don’t like recipes. However, there’s nothing to stop me inventing my own (often using other people’s as starting points). Necessity, veg boxes, diabetes, and a three-year-old’s tastebuds are co-parents of invention. Actually the main reason to put these on the site is that I quite like the names.
We bring you:
(A) Camel, Rabbit and Alien Salad
So called because I can’t say “cabbage, carrot, apple and raisin” fast enough.
About a quarter of a cabbage (bog-standard white cabbage works best for this). A smallish carrot. Half a large eating apple. A handful of raisins. Enough plain yoghurt.
Chop the cabbage finely, grate the carrot, dice the apple, feed one or two of the raisins to the three-year-old, mix all the ingredients, serve.
(B) Greeny-Beany-Spaghetti Soup
Hat tip to Veg Box Recipes for this one, but the spaghetti was my idea – “I wonder if there’s any use at all for cold spaghetti?” – and Matthew now insists that this soup has to have spaghetti in it.
An onion, a clove of garlic (more if you’re in a garlicky mood), several sprigs of parsley, some olive oil, a couple of medium potatoes, about half a small cabbage (Savoy is best for this), a can of white beans (eg haricot) some cooked spaghetti, some veggie stock.
Fry the onion and garlic in the oil until soft. Add the potato and the parsley, cook until you’re bored with stirring them. Add the cabbage and the stock, cook for about 20 minutes. Add about half the beans, liquidise. Take out a helping for the baby, return rest of soup to pan. Cook the spaghetti if you haven’t already done so. Chop up spaghetti, add it and the rest of the beans, heat through, season, serve.
I would never have believed that anything with this much cabbage in it could taste so good and so un-cabbagey. Note that the name doesn’t have “cabbage” in it; this was to ensure that Matthew was prepared to try a spoonful. After the first spoonful there was no problem.
Also: cabbage in mixed veg stirfry with plenty of root ginger and a bit of chilli; cabbage disappearing into veggie curry; etc.
Kale Solutions (I’m on the lookout for more of these – let me know…)
I make a lot of soup and like trying to think of names for the ones that emerge when we have too many bits & pieces of food lying around. Enthusiasm Soup (you give it everything you’ve got; not my own idea, that one), Thursday Soup (because the new veg box comes on Thursday evening and I try to use up the old one), Kitchen-Sink Soup, Boiled-Veg-Box Soup, etc. This one is more – well, unusual – and I was very pleased with it, though I have to admit that Peter and I were its only real fans.
Onion, sunflower oil, lots of purple curly kale, half a swede, a small Bramley apple, veggie stock. Chop the choppable things, fry the onion, fry the apple and the swede, add the kale and the stock, boil for a long time (kale takes ages), liquidise, season, serve. I think the sweetness of the swede complements the kale very well. I think Gavin thinks two wrongs don’t make a right. Purple kale gives it an interesting colour; I tried to convince Matthew it was chocolate soup, but he wasn’t buying that.
Diabetic Dessert Solutions
So called because we had to call it something; I think it sounds quite distinguished.
Cream cheese, plain yoghurt, grated rind of a lemon, enough fructose, a bit of whipped cream if you have some spare or can be bothered, a bit of lemon juice, Traidcraft stem ginger biscuits.
Beat together everything except the biscuits. Serve with the biscuits. We recommend crumbling the biscuits into the lemon stuff.
Skyrack Apple Cake
My version of Danish apple cake. The Skyrack was the gathering held in Headingley in Viking times.
6oz margarine, about 4oz fructose, 2 eggs, 6oz self-raising flour, 1oz sultanas, about 2 eating apples, cinnamon.
Cream marg and fructose, beat in eggs one at a time, fold in flour. Half of it into a greased loaf tin, sliced apples on top of it, sultanas on top of them, sprinkle with cinnamon, rest of the mixture in blobs on the top. Bake 45 minutes in a moderate oven.
Inspired by the West Wing episode “These Women”, in which (in one of the show’s moments of gritty hard-hitting realism) President Bartlet makes chilli for his staff. In one medium-sized saucepan. Without, apparently, spending much time in the kitchen. Hmm. Anyway, there’s a conversation between Charlie and Zoey about what to add to the chilli. It would never have occurred to me to put cumin in a chilli, but that’s now what I do if I want a chilli that’s spicy but not hot. And when making this dish (and only when making this dish) we have to pronounce ore’gano like that, not orega’no.
Soy mince, red kidney beans, onion, green pepper if you have it, sunflower oil, cumin seeds, tomato puree, oregano, a little bit of chilli powder; salt & pepper & lemon juice & a bit of red wine if you have some open & a pinch of brown sugar & some marmite & anything else you can think of.
Make up the soy mince with veggie stock. Fry the cumin seeds in the oil until they pop. Fry the onion gently until it’s soft. Likewise the green pepper, if you’re using it. Add the mince, the beans, the tomato puree, the chilli and the oregano. Stir and cook, cook and stir. Flirt with anyone who comes into the kitchen (optional). From time to time taste it and add whatever items from the second half of the list seem to be necessary. Don’t add more cumin, it won’t work. Add more oregano if you must. Serve with rice, plain yoghurt [which seems to crop up a lot as an ingredient in my cookery] and gentle left-wing politics.