Leftovers

On opening the fridge recently I had been turning a blind eye to various bits and pieces that were glaring accusingly at me.  This week I could take it no longer.  The issue was some food that had been bought for Christmas and somehow was still, in the middle of January, residing in my fridge.

I’d bought too much cream, my daughter had returned from university with a surprising number of apples.  A red cabbage destined for my Christmas salad was getting soft in a corner of the fridge alongside a celeriac and some puff pastry purchased on the off chance I wasn’t in the mood to make my own flaky pastry (I wasn’t but it didn’t get used).

Like so many I was brought up with the imperative that there should be no waste.  Never put more on your plate than you can eat and always, always finish what is on said plate.  That sort of thing.  Quite a lot of that ethos has filtered through to me and I can’t bear waste, whether it is scraping plates into the bin after lunch or shamefacedly throwing away food from the fridge that I have failed to use.  So it was in this spirit that I set too with all the sulky ingredients, determined that they should all have their moment in the spotlight.

The cream tasted fine despite having a late December use by date (what do they do to it?) but feeling sure its days were numbered I made it into butter.  Eschewing the jar shaking that my Granny taught me many years ago I used the big mixer.  Obviously I turned away just as the butter separated from the buttermilk and I got splashed but my delight was no less than when making it in an old jam jar as a child.  Always delighted by a bit of kitchen alchemy I suddenly had a handful of butter to squeeze, wash and salt.

The red cabbage was chopped and cooked with one of the apples, some red wine vinegar, brown sugar and redcurrant jelly.  A celeriac – along with some just beginning to sprout potatoes – was transformed into a rather delicious Ottolenghi gratin.  The recipe asked for 10 leaves of sage but, don’t you know it, only a few in the packet bought for the festivities were still green.  Anyway, it was still fab and we had the gratin with the red cabbage and the sausages from the freezer than hadn’t fallen into the puff pastry.

Let’s not stray too far from reality however.  I was the one who had bought all (most of) these ingredients and it was my inefficiency that resulted in them loitering for so long.  The joy derived was because, despite having been neglected, they had been used rather than chucked in the bin and I think I therefore enjoyed the results all the more.

Thus I would implore you to give any sad stuff skulking in your fridge a fighting chance.  Whilst it might no longer be suitable for its original purpose, there is usually a fine alternative to found, you might even create a new family favourite.

January Soup

We can be overwhelmed with advice in January.  What to eat, whether to drink, when to exercise, how to lose that bit of weight we put on at Christmas, how to survive the month and so it continues.  I should make two things clear early on – firstly I won’t be telling anyone what to do or eat and secondly, I love January.

Shall we start with my second point?  The reason I have a fondness for the beginning of the month is just that – it is the beginning, the fresh new start, the opening of that crisp, clean new exercise book.  As I loved that first page of lined paper at school so I relish the chance to start afresh, a new year is upon us.

I don’t have a huge number of commitments in January so it’s an ideal time to reset.  Judging hasn’t started yet and the dahlias are a long way from blooming.  Now is the time for a spring clean, maybe a little gentle curating of the house – sometimes rejigging of furniture and/or pictures can bring a whole new mood to a room – and a lot of cosy, rejuvenating cooking.

This soup is a case in point and a perfect way to start.  Hearty yet cosy, nourishing and healthy.  If you are trying to crack the 30 plants a week, then this ticks at least six on your list and tastes wonderful.  I usually stick with carrots, leeks and butter beans and add other ingredients that might be languishing in the fridge or that I have a hankering for.  In this case some celery and a tired courgette made the cut.  On the occasions I have some proper chicken stock to hand this soup has been elevated but I am more than happy using Marigold stock powder or even a cube and this is my usual route.

Here I chose butter beans and usually squish a few into the broth to give it a little substance.  Other beans would work just as well and if you have lentils use them or perhaps try the Kale, Lentil and Bacon soup (October 2013).  Anything described as a fridge clearer makes me feel a touch anxious (queasy) but in truth this is a great way to not waste any vegetables that need using up. As ever, take this as a base but use what suits you.

January Soup

These are the vegetables you see in the soup pictured above.  The celery and courgette aren’t always included and the soup is none the poorer without them and indeed I often make it without this pair.  I use Bold Bean butter beans which come in 700g jars and half is about right but a can is fine too.

I leek, cleaned and cut into discs

I large carrot (or two small), peeled and chopped

I stick of celery, peeled and chopped

I courgette, chopped

A large handful of kale

A bay leaf or two

Half a jar of butter beans or one tin (see above)

A tablespoon of olive oil

1 litre vegetable stock (or chicken if you prefer)

Warm the oil in a large pan and soften the leek, carrot, celery and courgette.  Once the leek has lost its rawness add the stock and bay leaf and simmer gently for 5-7 minutes until the carrots are cooked.  Add the beans and kale and cook until the beans are warm and the kale has softened.  Check for seasoning.  This would serve two for lunch alongside some good bread and cheese.