Biscotti - or what not to bake during a homework crisis...

Failure. It's a big thing at the moment. We have to let our children fail. They fail at the little things, they learn, they become stronger, more resilient and more able to cope with adult life.

I wholeheartedly agree with this approach to life. I do believe that my role is to love my children, to support them, to be on their side, and to protect them, but that as they get older, the way I do this changes and develops. They need to understand that they have responsibilities as well as the rights they are always telling me about, and that their actions have consequences. For toddlers this could be learning that not getting into the bath by the time I count to 5 means no stories (one of my least favourite evenings, that one, believe me). For 10 year olds who mess about in the morning it could mean having to get dressed in the car on the way to the bus stop (I was tempted put him on the bus in his pyjamas but decided that could wait for the next time - there wasn't one)...

So far, the actions and consequences have been relatively clear cut but Blue is now at secondary school, and the world has suddenly become a more complicated place. The possibilities for failure are many, and the consequences now include such things as detentions, missing the school bus that goes from the end of the road, completely flunking school, and, most serious of all, driving his mother to COMPLETE and UTTER distraction with keeping her counsel while he works it all out

And of course, let him, I must - let him work out how to manage, how to get himself organised - and then offer support and help only when it's asked, all that good stuff. I find it incredibly stressful though - especially when he asks for help with something when it's most inconvenient - like while I am trying to get dressed, drink a cup of tea or even indulging in a spot of late night biscotti baking in advance of a coffee date with a friend the following morning - because he left it to the last minute ...This means biting my tongue when he doesn't get out of bed till 7.30 when he has to leave for the bus at 7.55; when he leaves his homework to the last minute; when he dashes off his homework the night before it's due so he can watch old episodes of Top Gear or Scrap Heap Challenge (why? WHY???) and then reappears at bedtime worrying that he hasn't done it very well...

This last was this evening's little joy. And on inspection, he really hadn't done his homework very well. I won't go into details, but it was rubbish. We have already said to the kids that the important thing is that they do their best. And this most definitely wasn't his best. In the most reasonable tone I could manage, I said it was too late and he could either ask the teacher for extra time to finish the homework or hand it in as it was and take the consequences. He didn't take it well, and in the interests of everyone's peace of mind, we compromised. He went to bed and hour later than normal, but a lot happier. Did I do the right thing? He produced something that was much improved and has, I hope, learnt a lesson. And I managed to keep the tirade about taking responsibility and not wasting life away in front of the TV to a minimum, and mostly - ahem - offered astute observations about how things might be achieved in a less stressful manner next time. I also over-baked my biscotti while delivering my unvitriolic advice ... Not too much, but you know, if I'd been paying more attention, they might have been a little better. Still, I think they were OK.

Cranberry, Macadamia & Hazelnut Biscotti

200g mixed pack of cranberries & macadamia nuts
100g whole hazelnuts
250g strong white flour
1 tsp baking powder
150g caster sugar
grated zest of a large lemon
2 large eggs
2 tsp rum (or you could use vanilla extract if you were feeling less stressed)
icing sugar for dusting

Pre-heat the oven to 180C (160C fan) and line a baking sheet with baking paper.

In a food processor, pulse the nuts and fruit a couple of times to chop them up a little.

Sift the flour & baking powder together, then add the sugar, nuts & fruit and lemon zest, then combine.

Beat the eggs and rum together, then stir into the flour mixture and combine to form a biscuit dough.

Dust a work surface with icing sugar and turn the dough out. Divide it into 3 and form each piece into a log shape and place on the baking sheet.

Bake for 20 minutes, then remove from the oven.

Put the logs on a board and slice up into 1cm biscuits - sliced on the diagonal. 

Lay the slices back on the baking sheet and pop back into the oven for 5 -10 minutes. 

Don't engage in a discussion with your son about the best time to do his homework, and the benefits of doing the best job you can first time round. But if you do, and end up leaving the biscotti in the oven for 20 minutes they will probably be OK...

Tomatoes on toast

Did I mention that we are going away for a week? 

I'd like to say I'm being ever so casual about it, that it's no biggie, but who am I kidding? 

We are going to ITALY. To Rome, then to Naples.

I am very, VERY excited. 

Of course, in the run up to any holiday there is the finishing up of work. 

There is the 'weather checking and clothes washing' to be taken care of (you might not like me to mention that it's currently getting up to 28C in Rome - now where did I put my sandals?)



There is the consideration and purchasing of useful literature (I am very pleased with my 'overlay' book of ancient Roman sites (which has photos of the current ruins, with artists impressions of how they used to look which you can overlay onto the photos), purchased on Amazon for a mere 1p as opposed to the 10 Euros I am informed it will cost us in Rome)

There is the finding of the passports and the checking of the tickets. 

There is the daydreaming of how perfect it will all be as long as we don't try to do too much and wear the kids out on day 1 (actually unlikely as we are staying with friends just outside Rome first and we have been promised a relaxing day on Sunday revolving around lunch somewhere very lovely.)

And then there is 'Operation Fridge Run Down'. Easier said than done when the courgettes are still coming, as are the tomatoes.

I managed to get a whole yellow ball courgette into a quiche the other day - grated and squeezed out before I cooked it up with 3 thinly sliced onions. It made a delicious supper, and the courgette went completely undetected by those who did not know it was in there.

I could have cried when the next day, the Husband brought 2 more green courgettes in from the garden...

Tomatoes, on the other hand, are something I never tire of. The kids eat them raw and cooked, and it's very easy to turn them into soup, passata, anything really. Proper tomatoes, grown with some love, just smell delicious - of sunshine, of warmth, of halcyon days. If I had nothing else to do, I'd quite happily sit in a greenhouse of tomatoes and smell the smell all day. A bit like Ferdinand the bull smelling the flowers all day - but he was in Spain, and not many people know that story these days...





If you've never smelt a freshly picked gorgeously ripe tomato, you might think this all sounds a bit wierd, but I'm betting I'm not the only one who feels like this...

Tomatoes, of course, remind me of Italian food - the classic insalata tricolore with mozarella and basil, all that pasta sauce flavoured with basil, with chilli, with all sorts of things, brushcetta... I'm anticipating more than the odd stop during our sightseeing to partake of all things gorgeous, Italian and tomatoey - plus the odd glass of chilled white wine, of course.

For now, though, something much more English. I could have gone the bruschetta route for lunches the last few days, but these are English tomatoes, and oddly, bruschetta never occurred to me until just now when I sat down and started writing this. So I've been eating tomatoes on toast - inspired by a friend who's on the 5:2 diet and who advises me that if you use Nimble or Weightwatchers bread, 2 pieces come in at around 132 calories - including a dollop of Lidl's lowest fat mayo. Now I am no longer following the 5:2 diet. I'll tell you about it sometime, so my tomatoes were sliced and arranged on slices of homemade bread, drizzled with some (Italian) olive oil, sprinkled with some sea salt and pepper and served with some delicious Hampshire watercress. I decided to pass on the mayo...

Tomatoes on Toast (serves 1)

2 reasonably thick slices of good bread
tomatoes (the exact number will depend on the size of your tomatoes, how thickly you slice them, also the size of your slices of bread - may be 3-4 small to medium sized tomatoes as a guide)
Olive oil, seasalt and fresh ground pepper
Watercress to serve

Toast the bread lightly on one side under the grill. Flip the bread over and cover the uncooked side as much as possible with slices of tomato, drizzle with a little olive oil, sprinkle on some salt and pepper, then pop back under the grill for a few minutes till the tomatoes are starting to soften. Alternatively, you could sprinkle a little sugar on the tomatoes for a more caramelised effect.

Serve on a plate with some watercress.

Ciao!

Grana Padano week at L'Anima

Sometimes in life, things happen, and it's tempting to spend valuable time wondering why. Not just bad things, but good things too.

I am so over that. You just have to go with what you get and make the best of it - usually no point dwelling on the whys and wherefores

And I am particularly not going to spend time wondering how on earth I was lucky enough to be invited to spend an afternoon/evening at L'Anima London, in the company of 2 brilliant chefs and a handful of food writers and other bloggers on a gloriously hot Tuesday in July. I'll leave you to ponder that one, as you surely will.

So the occasion was a cookery demonstration in honour of national Grana Padano Week 2013 which runs until tomorrow. The chefs were Francesco Mazzei, of L'Anima itself, and Davide Oldani, of D'O restaurant near Milan, cooking to showcase the 3 ages of Grana Padano cheese.

Francesco and Davide

We crammed into the kitchen, donned aprons and watched as Davide first produced a souffled gnocchi dish of such sublime lightness that I thought I was going to swoon (it was very hot in there and I was standing next to a lit grill). Gorgeous little gnocchi bearing no resemblance whatsoever to my previous attempts. So dainty he piped them into the water...  

The gnocchi were then fried off, and served with a Grana Padano sauce, some raisins soaked in syrup spiked with chilli, some fried lettuce, and some crispy fregola (like couscous). Having allowed us to sample the dish, Davide explained the philosophy behind his cooking which is to satisfy each section of the tongue - the bit which tastes sweet, those tasting salty, bitter etc, hence the dish satisfying all those areas

May from Eat Cook Explore tastes the raisins

Well, I had to take a picture of the cheese!

After a short break for a glass of prosecco (well, it would have been rude not to) and a taste of some delicious grana padano scopped out of a glorious wheel of cheese it was time to move on to Francesco's demo.

I don't think there can be many more divine dishes than the scallops he prepared with a salsa verde made with N'duja, a kind of spreadable salami which I had never heard of or come across before, but was completely heavenly. I have never really aspired to work in a professional kitchen, and the experience didn't change that but what I really appreciated more than ever was how skilled these chefs are at the top of their game. 
Watching Francesco pulping garlic cloves with the blade of a knife, chopping and smoothing, was truly a sight to behold.



I tried to make a note of everything that went in the sauce - garlic, gherkins, capers, anchovies, some bread soaked in white wine vinegar, egg white that had been cooked as an omelette, finely grated grana Padano - may be some marjoram? all chopped so finely, then mixed with some N'duja (that's the bad boy there at the back of this picture - a gorgeous spicy slab of the stuff...)

The scallops - beautiful. fresh, meaty, were pan fried on one side, then the salsa verde was spread over the top and finished off under a grill while Francesco deep fried (flash fried, really) some Senise peppers and sage leaves .

The finishing touches

I cannot tell you how utterly wonderful the dish tasted, and I got to have a second shot at it because it was one of the courses at the dinner that followed. But more about that later.

After the demo, there was time to chat to the other people there, 

drink some more prosecco, and try not to over consume some gorgeous and appropriately cheesey (I mean flavour) nibbles, all made with Grana Padano


Beautiful buns stuffed with Grana Padano and caramelised red onion....

 

Perect pastries filled with Grana Padano and spinach...

...and these heavenly things which came with the rather unheavenly name of 'cheese puffs', but which are so, so much more.

(and if you want the recipe for those, you can find it on Eat Like a Girl, because Niamh has helpfully posted it...)

I think I've probably used up all the superlatives I can think of already in this post. I mean, I know I don't get out much, but this really was an extraordinarily brilliant meal, and others I was with who are better qualified than me to say such things agreed that it was fabulous. From my point of view, it would be definitely in my top 5 meals of all time - a subject we discussed at the table, while we tucked in...

Home cured Hake with candied figs tomato emulsion,

 

Grana Padano Riserva crisps & tarragon 

M'pigliati with Grano Padano Riserva & figs mosto cotto 

The special Grana Padano menu is available at L'Anima until tomorrow (12th July) so if you have a the opportunity to go and experience the 3 ages of Grana Padano cooked this beautifully, grab it while you can. I was lucky enough to dine as a guest of Grana Padano, but I would certainly have paid and have promised my (very foodie) brother that when I bag a regular food column in a national publication, I will take him there for a meal. So there's a challenge for anyone reading...