The Right Rice

16/05 THE RIGHT RICE

"...when in doubt, always follow your nose."

 

When your eyes are fixed on the future and your heart is set far from you its easy to get lost. I'm finding that the more I try to focus the harder it is to see, and easier the distractions. When in doubt, always follow your nose. Trust your instincts. Those primal fridge foraging instincts that turn measly leftovers into a considered meal. This recipe is a return to form, or lack thereof.

The distractions of trying to please everyone and make culinary perfection  is consuming and often hindering. Stop showing off precious. There is a mix of flavors here that I trust and like, and have been combined without any flair. And in the end made something I didn't expect and honestly would set out to make again. Don't fuss or panic, all you have to do is decide what to do with the ingredients given to you. All of a sudden "Oh, it's that way!" and there's the road again... going on and on.

 

Ingredients (all approximate) - To be honest the quantities are up to you

2 Cups Rice (cooked, cold)
2 Lemons
50g Goats Cheese
2 tsp Nigella Seeds
2 Large Mushrooms
1/2 Cup Walnuts
1/2 White Onion
1 Cup Raisins
Vinegar
Salt + Pepper
Olive Oil

 

What I did - 

There is less method here, and more improvisation. Just the way kitchen adventures should be, the trick is to find combinations that work and can be thrown together when there is nothing else alive in the fridge.

First start by boiling the kettle - make yourself a strong tea - and soak the raisins to re-plump (with a splash of vinegar to kick their sweetness back). In a large mixing bowl break up the rice so that there are no cold clumps. Slice the mushrooms into feathery thin slices. The onion into similar fragments. Bash the walnuts into fork-able chunks. and toss through the rice. Sprinkle the nigella seeds and crumble the goats cheese before mixing through again.

Zest the lemon into fluorescent strands over the bowl then squeeze out the juice pips and all (unless you are pedantic about this, or generously making for company). Douse in a slick of olive oil and rain down a dust storm of pepper. Finally strain the raisins and squeeze out the excess water, then add to the bowl before the penultimate tumble. Mix it all together and only if you feel there isn't enough from the goats cheese - add some salt.

Transfer to a nicer bowl and eat directly. With company just give them another fork and share the bowl. Sometimes laziness is agreeable - but this should give you some energy to get back on the horse.

JG

 

Unextpected Fungi

04/11 UNEXPECTED FUNGI

Sometimes your fridge takes you on a most unexpected journey. Pasta often sends me in all directions, the urge to fork slippery strands into my mouth leading on. Also its deceptively easy to throw things together with the illusion of having a plan. Which is exactly how this fungi fettuccini came about. My aversion to red pasta sauces, so often just glugged out of a jar, means I do anything possible to make non-tomato pasta. I was also cooking for someone who despises parsley so we ended up in a Scandi-mediterranean tangle.

Exorcising tradition once again, the only part cooked is the pasta. All other ingredients are raw, but change character as they succumb to the pasta's scalding tentacles. The sauce ends up buttery and sharp, with a strong headiness from the musky mushrooms, walnuts and dill. Fettuccini got lost in a Scandinavian forrest and ensnared the wild mushrooms, a long way from home.

Ingredients (all approximate) - for two

200g Pasta (100g per head)
500g Mushroom

Large bunch fresh Dill
100g Walnuts
50g Parmesan
2 Lemons
50g Butter
Salt & Pepper



What I did - 

Not essential, but I did take a moment to make the pasta. It's beyond m simple, and I enjoy regimenting my day (only ever bother on a day off) according to what needs to be prepared and when, leaving the time in-between to potter around. I use Stephanie Alexander's recipe but use whatever flat pasta your have/find.

The water for boiling the pasta should have the salinity of the sea - reducing the salt needed later - so shake it in. It shouldn't take more than 5 minutes to cook the pasta if fresh, a little longer if dried, but make sure it still has some bite to it as it needs to carry the mushrooms.

While boiling slice the mushrooms into a large bowl, thin and flat. Juice the two lemons, don't fuss about pips or pulp get it all in there. Finely chop the dill and blanket over. Chop the walnuts roughly in a separate bowl.

By this stage the pasta should be perfect, but check as you go. Strain it quickly, leaving it wet to touch. Return to pot and add the chunk of butter. Stir through as it melts, slicking all the tendrils. Add the walnuts and stir through again. The butter and walnuts should melt a thick woody dressing, time to cut though it with the lemon-mushrooms. 

Tip the fungi bowl in and stir everything through, amalgamating the lemon with the butter and mushrooms with the pasta. Let sit for a few minutes, the mushrooms will warm through and soften. Unfurl the pots contents back into the large bowl. Grate on curls of parmesan and any leftover dill. White wine. Bon fungi.

JG