Rice Pudding Two Ways and Savoury Scones Variations

January 19, 2025

St.James’s Park

Creamed Rice Pudding

I woke up and stepped into the New Year with a new appetite. The appetite for new things to try. Things that perhaps I wouldn’t have tried if it wasn’t for a generous portion of Stilton cheese resting on my fridge shelf since Christmas.
Having spent the Christmas period with our family in Poland (a last minute flight arrangement turned into a good plan) we returned to London late, but just in time for the New Year’s Eve. It took a trip to our local fishmonger and grocery store to conjure up a festive-like dinner at home and welcome 2025 with a glass of champagne. I don’t know about you, but I like my champagne, and any kind of sparkling wine – be it prosecco or franciacorta, well chilled. Not really the conventional French recommendation, so please forgive me but that’s just me. As simple as that, a bottle of Bollinger Rosé was on a mission since morning, reaching the desired temperature in the fridge, to be ready for the evening.

London during the Christmas holidays turns exceptionally quiet. Everything slows down after the pre-festive excess. A gentle hum of cars passing by, a rare dog barking in the distance, empty parking bays. The centre of the city seems deserted. The past year, 2024, had very little in common with the “typical English weather” and the beginnings of January haven’t acquainted themselves with that term either. Cold dry and crispy weather is what we both like. The wintery low amber hued light is just magical, especially when the short days draw to a close, imbuing everything along the way with its warm dusky golden tones. We welcomed the New Year with some magnificent walks – St James’s area was particularly atmospheric with the odd pub open, hidden amongst tall elegant and majestic buildings. From there, unplanned, led by the lovely setting light we crossed to St James’s Park, which, in my mind still belongs to a bygone era, and it’s where I said out loud that winter in London can be beautiful. Or maybe I’ve already managed to settle down here a little and develop a special fondness for certain places, to which I may have to soon say goodbye.

Baked Rice Pudding

Savoury Scones – Lunch

As we walked back home I made a spontaneous announcement: “right, I’m baking scones”. Savoury scones to be precise, with the same Stilton cheese waiting on the shelf in the fridge. I had never baked or even tried savoury scones before and this sudden idea was a novelty to me, but I strongly felt that the flavours would be very good. Somewhere in my mind I had been writing a recipe for a Stilton and walnut tart in a short crust pastry; but I’ve never made it. Instead, I bought 1 kg of self raising flour, some good pears and rolled up my sleeves. I pulled my large beige Mason Cash mixing bowl from the kitchen corner cupboard and started to sift, grate, chop and mix all the ingredients I had on my list: the Stilton, of course, some Cheddar cheese, walnuts and a pear – for keeping the scones moist and to give a delightful accompaniment to the strong blue cheese (find the recipe here).
The key to fluffy scones is to handle the dough as little and as gently as possible, and I strictly follow that rule. The aromas wafting through the house as the scones baked where so promising, that we both watched them rise in the oven until they reached the right size whilst turning golden in colour. These scones are irresistible freshly baked, piping hot, broken in half in your hands and toped with some cold butter. It’s how we had them when they came out, immediately devouring half of the portion. In simple and modest words – success!
These savoury scones were an absolute revelation to me and I made three batches of them that same week, always the sign of a good recipe – one to keep. If I have any of the scones left over, I like to reheat them (they still remain delicate and fluffy) and pair them with more cheese – soft creamy and fresh brie works a dream, or lay a couple of thin slices of ham on top, not to mention about the obligatory smattering of cold butter first. We would have them for breakfast or as part of lunch. They work wonders for the aperitivo hour.
Then a new week came and with it a new recipe for scones. This time I kept them slightly simpler, nonetheless, truly divine: grated Cheddar cheese – and lots of it, powdered mustard (widely used for making roast beef), I chose to keep the pear for it enhances the texture, and a more generous touch of pepper. To try them straight from the oven is a must, trust me here. They are just perfect with cream cheese and a few slices of smoked salmon or crunchy bacon strips, more black pepper and freshly chopped chives for a lovely Sunday breakfast or lunch – just a suggestion.

I must confess that now I prefer them to their sweet counterpart – rigorously served with clotted cream and jam.

Baked Rice Pudding with Boozy Raisins

Vanilla Rice Pudding & Stilton Cheese Scones

Stilton, Pear and Walnut Scones for Breakfast

There are another two new recipes which have satisfied my cravings this year so far: rice pudding, made in two completely different ways.

The scones above are my invention, both rice puddings, however, come from two different chefs and subsequently two different cookbooks. I had those recipes stored somewhere, overlooked and forgotten about, really. I can’t explain what triggered my desire for a rice pudding, cold weather perhaps? A good rice pudding, glistening and creamy, dotted with vanilla seeds aplenty, can be sensational. A bit of love and a few extra ingredients turn this humble, a childhood memory pudding into something more sophisticated, but still imbuing me with comfort and cosiness. One of the rice puddings is slowly cooked with milk, sugar and vanilla. Once the rice turns tender, you stir in some butter, cream and condensed milk. It’s lovely and creamy, slightly sweet (but not overly sweet) and to offset it I like to top each warm portion of it with some cherries in Kirsch, which I buy a large jar of from Fortnum & Mason (link to the recipe).The second method is to bake the pudding in the oven. It’s so simple: you begin with a buttery caramel in a heavy-based casserole dish, into which you stir in the rice. Next follows the cream, milk and vanilla. Because we start with the caramel first here, the entire pudding immediately soaks up its warm lightly golden colour, which only exalts in the oven, forming a very appetising crust (link to the recipe). In this baked rice pudding you can only taste a hint of sweetness and we enjoy each portion (always warm) served with a spoonful of spiced boozy raisins (raisins or sultanas soaked in vodka, rum or grappa, preferably for longer than overnight).

Do try the above recipes and tell me you didn’t like them.

Happy New Year!

Aleksandra xx

English Mustard Powder


A Moveable Christmas Feast

December 15, 2024

Kugelhopf

Christmas is perhaps the most magical time of the year. The first twinkle of the street lights, elegantly decorated fancy shop windows or arcades decked in holly – and London certainly knows how to do it well, the first smell and taste of a spiced Chrisms cake, of any kind, and a warming mulled wine.

Shorter, colder and darker days laden with emotional attachment and nostalgia are much welcomed, at least by myself, as I can relish walking along beautifully adorned streets and look at happy faces. I’ve always loved the entire build up towards Christmas, but over the past years the whole festive season has been equally enjoyable, especially when we get to spend it in the warmth of our family home back in Poland, where we have quite a lot of celebrating to do: Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, of course, followed by New Year’s Eve and my mother’s birthday somewhere in between.

We are already approaching mid December and this year, for one reason or another, we still don’t know how are we going to spend Christmas.

Very rarely do we plan a long way ahead which would normally involve a long haul flight headed to Africa and many reservations to be made. We’ve done several trips over the years to either South Africa, Kenya or Tanzania, spending the holiday in the warmth (a particular favourite of the Déguastatuer). More often than not we actually can’t plan a lot in advance, but we would always have an idea of how to spend Christmas, as it is an important time filled with traditions, rituals and family gatherings to share all the festive fare.

It’s been a rather tricky and difficult year, more than any I can remember or I can quickly think of. Hence for me the much anticipated pre-Christmas hustle and bustle has had a slow start. I’m late with the presents, which I adore giving, but on a positive note – I’ve got my head around the food. There are certain things that I’ll cook wherever we are: either simply here in London (perhaps my brother-in-law will join us) or in the midst of rural Poland with my parents, hopefully with a blanket of dry crispy snow outside.

The Dégustatur is British and he has adopted the continental tradition of celebrating Christmas Eve on the 24th. His festive season has extended, what’s not to like. On that particular day we would have a slightly bigger breakfast, skip lunch and have a formal dinner based on vegetables and seafood. This is what we are going to eat. We will begin with scallops, hand dived, first pan fried with some garlic and parsley, a dash of white wine and finished off in the oven on the shell. Beautifully caramelised on top and soft in the middle. They are a real treat and I’ve been buying them from our local fish monger, who happens to be The President of Britain’s Fishmonger’s Guild. To follow, I will also prepare some cooked white crab meat, which we’ve been eating literally on repeat: “We will not have it once we leave London so lets make the most of it”, it’s the mantra that we keep repeating to ourselves.

We’ve been having dressed white crab with – dare I call it – a classic dressing (mayonnaise, Worcestershire sauce, lemon juice, a few spices plus some other ingredients) either with a toasted sliced brioche (I wrote about it here and shared the recipe here) or on a bed of salad leaves and finished off with boiled eggs. Recently, our favourite way of enjoying it is tossed with a chopped green apple, cucumber, lime juice, fresh mint, some chopped chilly, plus a few other ingredients to taste. It’s fresh, light and compliments the sweetness of the crab.

Next, the pasta course: anchovy and butter spaghetti. The beauty of this dish lies in its simplicity, just three ingredients which magic up a sublime and elegant plate of food. Little work involved too.
Baking and making cakes is a satisfying affair for me. It somehow automatically stands for a familiar warmth and a sweet smelling air, a cosy fragrance travelling from the kitchen, spreading all over the house. A desirable feeling, even more so right now – a prelude to Christmas.

Stollen Bites

Sloane Square

Apricot, Fennel Sausage, Pistachio Christmas Log

Whilst we are in the realms of extra spice, extra dry fruit, extra nuts, extra booze to spice up and moisten a traditional cake and an extra little something, I came across Stollen Bites in the December issue of Waitrose magazine. Jürgen Krauss shares his recipe saying: “It’s a treasured part of a German Christmas, but traditional stollen is quite involved to make and needs time to mature”. From my research stollen also involves marzipan, which Jürgen omits in his recipe (follow the recipe here). These little crescent bites contain almonds, raisins, candied orange peel, ground nutmeg, cloves and coriander. Quintessentially everything that Christmas baking is all about, and lots of icing, if not for the sweetness then for the extra festive look. The Dégustateur has been nibbling on them already and it looks like I might be making a new batch soon.

I’ll also bake kugelhopf, a slightly sweet (similar to brioche) German bread, which looks very glamorous as it’s traditionally baked in a special kugelhopf mould or a bundt cake tin. It’s spiced with rum soaked raisins (I soak mine overnight-trust me on this one) and I bake it with almonds, for a lovely visual aspect. Arguably it’s best eaten on the day of baking whilst still slightly warm, though, we love it on the followings days, toasted and topped with butter and bitter orange marmalade (thinly sliced smoked cheese, say scamorza affumicata, works a dream too).

There will be Crostata di Noci e Caramello Salato, a little twist on my Caramel and Walnut Tart – I just added some salt to the warm caramel to taste, that’s all. It’s a must have tart on our table, utter heaven.
There might be a space left for Chocolate and Hazelnut Pavlova, it just looks so festive, apart from being a sheer delight.

Then, we will wake up on Christmas Day and our feast will continue. There will be chicken, not a roast, but prepared a day earlier our perennial favourite Chicken Fricassêe with Red Wine Vinegar and Tarragon. The flavours will only improve overnight making the kitchen management a much easier and stress free task. I will roast some potatoes in duck fat (left over from roasting duck legs some time ago), maybe cook some lentils – Italian style, I’ll make a large plate of fresh crunchy salad and something new and very simple: boiled carrots in a delicate mustardy sauce. I was asked for a recipe on my Instagram, so Inge, here it is, especially for you!

This time last year, also in the Waitrose magazine, I found a true gem introduced by Angela Harnett, a chef whom I’ve admired for years. She shared a recipe for Apricot, Sage, Fennel Sausage and Almond Christmas Log. Subsequently I shared it too on the blog, and I’m sharing it again this year. It’s something absolutely fabulous, the opulence of festive flavours mixed with some minced meat simply baked in a shape of a log. Angela, from what I recall, used pistachios, not almonds, but you can play with the nuts to your own enjoyment.

Carrots in a Light Buttery Mustard Sauce / Sloane Street

Depending on where we are spending Christmas this year, the food and cooking will be moved from one kitchen to another, hence the title of a moveable feast. Maybe scallops will be problematic to find in Poland (I should manage with the crab meat) but the essence will be the same wherever we are: to put the heart into it and enjoy cooking to share the food with the people we love. Food brings people together not only literally, also metaphorically.

How to finish a Christmas meal? Panettone; my mother had preordered a couple of really good ones from our favourite pastry bakery; need I say more?

Wishing you all a very Happy and Delicious Christmas, wherever you are xx


Good Things in Sleepy London

November 22, 2024

Green Park

Chocolate and Hazelnut Pavlova

I waved goodbye as I was closing our front door on a balmy late September afternoon, and then I opened it on a wet grey mid November morning, or at least it feels that way.

This elusive thought of what happened in between comes and goes, like a gentle hum of different personas passing through our door.  A blend of friends, family and some work connections. It all merges into one like a harmonious drift from one day to another. As I start to press my memory a bit harder now, a lot has happened actually, good and bad. Lets focus on the good part though, exactly the same way as we all wish to be remembered by. The notion of the events doesn’t allow me to allocate a greater importance to one or the other, so I’m thinking: “a chronological order perhaps? Hmm, maybe not.” These moments   seem to overlap in my mind, but, they have a common denominator: good food, lovely company and a dreamy Autumn in London. I really mean it, I’ve loved the weather here over the past two months.

 

Everything commenced with an unexpectedly warm and pleasant week: just imagine the morning haze burnt off by the sun by midday, a gentle breeze, the temperatures reaching 26-27 C and a return of the sun kissed glow on your face – the best make up there is.  I wore shorts again and a (smart) shirt – we live in a big city after all and the West End is more of a suit and tie kind of place. The truth to be told is that my wardrobe doesn’t fit London that well anymore and that is for two particular reasons: 1) most of my clothes along with the household items are kept in a storage back in Italy, 2) different weather and lifestyle in Italy required a different set of clothing. But I have to manage with what I’ve got and I did bring a few shirts with me. Currently for us London is an extended short-term living situation, still temporary though. Not sure if it’s a matter of a few weeks or months, that’s the bad part, but that will be resolved eventually. We are suspended right now between England and our future home, perhaps in Italy, but who knows, life right now can be full of surprises.

Apple Crumble with Calvados

Touluse Sausages in Red Wine Sauce

Moving swiftly to the positive events, my very good friend  from Poland, Dagmara and her husband, came for a visit and they couldn’t have asked for a better weather. Taking full advantage of it we walked a lot: parks, museums, monuments, dim sum lunch in China Town and an obligatory Saturday morning trip to the farmer’s market – the apples right now are so delectably crunchy and flavoursome that I buy them in bulk. Naturally the evenings were turning a bit chilly but we still managed to have a small beer or a little Guinness standing outside our two local pubs and soaked up the convivial and lively atmosphere emanating from the premises. On one of those days we crossed Hyde Park heading for The Ginger Pig butcher located in Marylebone Village. From the early lunch hours you will always find a long line queuing for its renowned sausage rolls. They are very rich but a must try. The parallel and shorter line is for the regular meat shop, where I always buy chicken, and as of recently the sausages: Toulouse and Cumberland. I came up by a little inspiration as well as  trial and error with a new recipe for Baked Sausages in a Red Wine and Dijon Mustard Sauce. There are also shallots, some garlic and fresh thyme present in the sauce. I don’t add any flour to thicken the sauce, instead, I let it evaporate a little before popping the dish into the hot oven. I bake the sausages without the lid, turning them every 10 minutes, allowing them to develop a very appetising dark crispy skin. In September I served this dish with boiled sweet and tender corn cobs, topped with butter and Maldon salt- so good and so seasonal. This time of year however, I’d bake some potatoes with it and prepare a simple crunchy green leaf salad, or a new favourite, shredded (or thinly sliced) cabbage with a simple lemony olive oil dressing.

Dagmara loves meringues. Remembering that I had some egg whites in the freezer (I always have some egg whites left after making: custards, zabaione or Torta della Nonna filling) I quickly conjured up a one tiered pavlova to round the welcome dinner off. My first intention was to top the meringue base with whipped vanilla cream and macerated plums.  But this year I was rather disappointed or unlucky with the plums here, so I improvised with what I had in my kitchen cupboard. I folded half of the whipped cream with a very moreish chocolate and hazelnut spread, and layered it all up. It was divine and all gone the same evening (find the recipe here).

 Another lovely thing, almost a regular by now, have been weekly visits of “my younger” cousin. There is only a two year age gap between us but that’s how I had first called her introducing Elizabeth to the Dégustateur, and that’s what we still call her now. She comes on Wednesdays, after work and is always happy to try, or to my sheer delight have seconds, of what I’ve prepared for her. She’s particularly enjoyed my Apple Crumble with Calvados with a generous spoonful of a warm Vanilla Créme Anglaise, roast pumpkin cream soup and a freshly baked brioche loaf.
 The brioche loaf I’ve been baking for a while now and have found “my perfect recipe” for it. I love its pillowy soft, light yellow texture and a firm dark shiny crust. It smells of butter, fresh yeast and a happy home. It’s so versatile and in fact we are never bored of it. Still slightly warm from the oven it’s a dream to have. On the following day for breakfast I’d toast a few slices of it, spread some butter on top – which will start to melt a little, and then coat it with a bitter orange marmalade (preferably from Fortnum & Maison). Have a freshly brewed strong coffee with it and you may not want to have anything else for breakfast. Brioche, a slightly sweet rich bread, pairs so well with pâtés, strong cheeses and anchovies. If you have anything left, bread and butter pudding is always a good idea to make.
We’ve been bewitched lately by baking “my brioche” but I must admit that it has gained a strong competition in a form of focaccia with semola, potato and rosemary. A rather rustic Southern Italian style soft bread with a crunchy crust, which soaks up perfectly strong and fragrant olive oil, a match made in heaven (recipe soon on the blog).

 I’ve always been very happy to cook for other people, but on daily basis it’s just the two of us, sitting down to dinner where we have a longer moment to spend with each other, chat over a homemade meal accompanied by a candle light (soon also during lunches as it getting darker) and usually a glass of wine. Many new and old dishes are left for our own gratification, like a recent late Sunday breakfast for example: nutty and warm chestnut flour and orange blossom water pancakes filled with a chestnut cream spiced with some dark rum.

The Changing of the Guard Ceremony

Chestnut Pancakes

Fougasse

 I tried out a new recipe for a classic French Fougasse that I wanted to share with you, in case you wish to make a little impression on your guests with a homemade bread-just a thought. Plain flour, yeast, salt and olive oil, so simple. It’s extremely tasty and you can play around with the toppings: rosemary, olives or sun dried tomatoes. Moreover, it’s so visually appealing. You only have to make a few slashes with a sharp knife to the flattened dough so it resembles a leaf, more or less. Voilà!
 
I haven’t started cooking the usual cold weather comfort hearty meals yet because the weather has been surprisingly fabulous. After my friends had left, it got colder, that’s true, we had some mists and morning fogs which I love, but it’s been dry all the while and abnormally warm. The parks have never looked prettier: the slowly falling leaves coating the surroundings with all manner of autumnal hues: greens turning yellow, saffron, scarlet, deep red and russet have covered many parts of London with a soft blanket, on which I meandered for hours, almost daily, enjoying the rustle of the beautiful dry foliage. I just put on a comfortable pair of shoes and walked everywhere cloaked in a soft mist, that just couldn’t be more atmospheric.
 
One day I decided to play a tourist and went to see something that I hadn’t watched in years: The Changing of the Guard ceremony. The Changing of the King’s Guard ritual involves three locations: Buckingham Palace, St. James’s Palace and Wellington Barracks as well as different timings. I’ve always preferred to watch it at Wellington Barracks (just before 11am), it’s less crowded there and once the New Guard departs, I like to take a stroll across St. James’s Park or along The Mall, or when not pressed for time, pay a visit to The National Gallery at Trafalgar Square.   

Occasionally during weekends, together with the Dégustateur, we set out for a walk to Soho, passing through Belgravia first, then crossing Green Park and watching the squirrels hunting and posing unabashedly whilst asking for food – they look pretty plump right now and so ready for the winter. Following the inevitable stop at Hatchards  (the oldest bookshop in the United Kingdom) and forever originally decorated Fortnum & Maison grocery department store, we reach Piccadilly Circus with its filled to the brim The Devonshire pub behind (and a very good restaurant above – book in advance). We enjoy this eclectic crowd as well as so many different Soho restaurants: Barrafina, Quo Vadis, Dean Street Townhouse, Andrew Edmunds to name but a few.   The exact opposite of the quiet neighbourhood that we live in.
 
Nature turns dormant as I finish writing this post and we are bracing for a cold front to come. The sleepy drift from one day to another has come to an end exactly now once the weather has turned and the signs of approaching Christmas are popping up everywhere. And one thing is absolutely certain: London does its Christmas decorations extremely well!

The Devonshire Pub
 


“Purple plums, verdant green meadows and something to look forward to ”

September 15, 2024

Torta della Nonna

As I write this post I’m already back in London, sitting at my desk by a window, surveying the quiet streets of our neighbourhood and looking at the beginnings of the renovation project right next door to Elisabeth David’s former house.
It’s very sunny today, the skies are mostly clear blue, the warm rays of sunshine are working their wonders but I can already feel on my skin a very noticeable whisper of Fall waiting just round the corner. This summer ended very abruptly, like a flip of a coin or a turning of your palm.

We are currently suspended in between the seasons, longing for the end of summer balmy days to endure whilst starting to crave hearty and slow cooked meals to warm up our bodies..
As I’m quite saddened by this brisk change of weather which leaves us with nothing but to say good bye to the days that we all have to wait for a whole year to see again, I started to reminiscent of our stay in our family home in Poland.
Almost every August, predominantly the second half of it as it’s my father’s birthday, we follow our endearing ritual and set off to spend some quality time with my family.

The time that we share in the midst of the rural countryside back home flows at a different pace, not necessarily implying a slower pace, just different. It’s more like a calm drift from one day to another. The days start more or less the same way: I wake up at dawn and have my first coffee on the terrace, either in solitude or in the company of my father (you might spot him on one of the images checking on the meadows), who’s always been a very early riser. When you get up so early almost all your life, usually before 6 am (actually more often than not around 5 am), your natural clock will never reverse back. You see, my father grew up on a farm, and has both with my mother a farm of their own. And so, my older brother and I grew up in a farming family and community.

The time spent in my homeland is not just all blissful leisure and long walks with our two little dogs. There is always something to do, to help with, to discuss, to sort out, to check on the farm and at this time of year – to inspect the verdant green meadows, which lie a few kilometres away in a very picturesque setting of another, centred around XVIII century palace, little village in the background.

Spaghetti with a Tomato and Anchovy Sauce

Polish Plum Yeast Cake

Being born and raised in the countryside has left so many lasting impressions in my heart and memory. I vividly recall the seductive scents and earthy notes of the trees, moss after the rain in the nearby wood, blooming yellow rapeseed, bushes of lilac, the soil being turned on the fields and the delightful hum of bees making local honey, all of which are second to none.
Sadly, when you go away from home to a high school and then to university (and live in a city after that), you tend to gradually leave all this natural beauty behind. Ever since I started spending more time back home, the Dégustateur loves it there too, I’ve felt a much happier and balanced person. I needed the nature back in my life and this enduring connection will always remain a part of me, of who I am. I’ll always be this girl who grew up in a Polish village, went to the local school, helped on the farm, spent every Friday afternoon after school on long walks in a park or along a back road through the fields of crops, or went ice skating on a frozen lake. Oh, how delightful it was to come home on a winter afternoon and be welcomed by an enticing smell of freshly baked cake, best eaten still warm, as ever. My very favourite cake, a tender memory of my childhood is drożdżówka, a pillowy yeast cake with fruit and crumbly topping, that every household will have its own recipe for. I call it sometimes a welcome cake because my brother and I would always find it upon our arrival for the weekends at home (a school routine for many years). We have always had particular preferences about this cake: to have it on the moist side, which was a rare occurrence, mostly when something went wrong and the cake didn’t raise. You may laugh now but it’s true. I love it when either sour cherries or plums are used for baking the drożdżówka. I’ve tried apricots and peaches, a good substitute, but still not my first choice. Somehow over the years my mother’s version of this cake has been leaning towards the dry side, which left me with eating it almost immediately straight from the oven or dunked into tea or a morning coffee. I’ve only started baking the drożdżówka on my own relatively recently. It was when we lived in Florence, and since we initially didn’t know anyone to share it with, I came up with a different recipe: for a smaller portion, more buttery and more moist. Then by trial and error, changing the ratio of the ingredients here and there I’ve found my perfect recipe, which includes natural yogurt (instead of milk). It helps the pillowy soft dough stay fresh for longer, but in Poland there was no need for it, we all ate it almost immediately when I baked it.

The first plums had just started to appear: deep purple in colour with firm yellow-green flesh and sweet, so the timing couldn’t have been better. My brother spent more time with us this summer, more than usually, and he loved “my drożdżówkaso much, that I ended up baking it three times within one week. He actually assisted me once taking meticulous notes, perhaps he will bake it one day too. So far my mother has followed the recipe and sent me some pictures, from which I could see that it came out very well, so well that it also disappeared in almost no time, with the greatest contribution of my brother, who had it warm with a glass of milk – these things never change either. It was an unexpected family success which couldn’t make me any happier.

Prawn and Dill Frittata

Torta della Nonna

When it comes dinner preparations we take turns. We enjoy them on the terrace once the temperatures drop a little and are so pleasant that we just linger over a simple meal for a couple of hours or until dark. I always try to introduce something new. This year, apart from the plum yeast cake, I made us spaghetti tossed with a tomato and anchovy sauce, using different variations of tomatoes from my mother’s little orchard at the back of the house. My father hadn’t been a devoted pasta eater (contrary to his wife), but his habits have changed over the years and a few good pasta courses back in Italy.

Since my mother likes prawns I prepared a prawn and dill frittata, following a recipe from the late Russell Norman’s cook book “Venice”. Dill, which we all love, was such an unexpectedly pleasing surprise to me as I had always finished any seafood dish with the conventional parsley.

There was also Torta della Nonna, a custard and pine nut pie, a nostalgic nod to Rome, because it’s where I tried it for the first time and where I’ve had it most often.

As I’m finishing writing this post I can see through the window an elegant lady crossing our street. She is wearing a winter coat, not a fur coat, but still proper winter attire.
Well, next weekend my best friend comes over for a visit and she is bring some warmer weather with her. Something to look forward to!!

Drożdżówka


Little France in Our Kitchen

June 25, 2024

Rabbit in a Mustard and Tarragon Sauce

Calvados

Ten years ago we made a decision, we would leave London. Why and where?
Along with the Dègustatuer I had shared the same feelings and we mutually arrived to the same conclusions. We also wanted a change in our lives, for many reasons.

Where? We had become infatuated by the Luberon in the heart of Provence, to the point that we had started searching for a place for us there.

I had even enrolled myself on a short but intensive French language course, a) because my philosophy in life is to be able to speak the language of my potential future home, and b) because I had some spare time on my hands and on top of that I’ve always wanted to demystify the known fact that it is so difficult to learn the French language, or at least familiarise myself with the basics.

Well, the part a) has always been a firm stand out point in my approach to life and is still going strong, the b) part on the other hand, got slightly changed, as we simply changed our minds. We went to live in Italy Instead. To Rome.
You see, it all began with a wedding in Portofino which cleared all our doubts and any confusion. I also think that we perhaps had tried to persuade or convince ourselves into following the footsteps of most of the British people. The most common answer to the question (at the French language course) why are you studying the language was: I’d like to live in Provence and buy a house there.

Portofino is a stunning picturesque fishing village, with a small port and brightly colour-washed houses. It’s also a little concentration of the most stylish and elegant villas, a forever loved destination of the rich and famous. The views are breathtaking and you simply fall in love with the allure of the Italian riviera. And that was it for us. Three days in paradise and we knew that our hearts and souls were raising their sails to navigate in a different direction, Italy.

Daube de Boeuf à la Provencale

Remoulade – Style Potato Salad

Far Breton

Just to be clear and fully honest, France still casts its spell and charm over us and we visit whenever we can. We have driven from Italy to Bordeaux, Dordogne (I loved it there during winter), Alsace, Languedoc-Roussillon and very recently to Normandy. Also, our very favourite restaurant in London is “Joséphine”, a fairly recent opening. It’s a classic French and Lyonnaise speciality bistro that happened to be in our neighbourhood- so glad, with immaculate crisp white table clothes, half linen curtains at the windows, amber hued tulip chandeliers, elegant wood panelling paired with vintage posters. It’s so special (yet simple) that even the best critics admit: “A seriously wonderful restaurant”, “…..book it for the next available evening, then come back and read my whiffle if you can be bothered”, Giles Coren, The Sunday Times. Having mentioned “Josephine”, let me suggest another great French restaurant in London, an institution by now, “La Poule Au Pot”. It has a very alluring interior, with its intimate nooks and festoons of dried flowers, lots of candles and bric-à-brac. It has remained unchanged since the 60s, and we had had many long and cosy meals there in the past. You can find it in Belgravia, tucked in a corner of a romantic square among a handful of prestigious designer and antique shops, with lots of windows and a few outdoor tables, to watch the world go by.

When we moved into our little mews house in London – a temporary living situation, I found it hard to detach myself from Italian food and cooking. I had imagined the time here in London to be full of oriental and spicy cooking, a lot of cold water seafood (white crab meat we buy ever week), maybe some Spanish food, but above all – French. I must admit that it took me a long while to make the transition, perhaps I was cooking what I’m familiar with most, and when I found the right ingredients, they tasted like home to us. With time one can get used to almost anything, and in the same way I’ve opened myself to new cooking adventures. An excursion to Normandy has helped me enormously and enabled me to reacquaint myself with the produce, flavours, wine, with the delicious use of butter- mainly in baking, and with the “paysan” France.

Beef Bourguignon and Coq Au Vin, beef and chicken cooked in red wine respectively, had appeared on my blog many moons ago, and these recipes are perhaps best kept for the cooler days to come. Although the recent weather in England has been rather autumnal I refrained from cooking these dishes hoping for some summer warmth. But how much waiting is enough? How many cold days in May and June can make me feel angry? Not to mention about having to wear a jacket again. It is what it is however, and instead of getting annoyed, I made peace with the weather, which turned out to be a very productive and delicious period in our London kitchen. Every cloud has a silver lining!

I’ve made us A Provencal Style Beef Stew, with the flavours of the South of France: capers, anchovies, garlic and parsley. It pairs so well with a simple fresh ripe tomato salad, or a crisp green leaf salad. I’ve also baked us a Comte Cheese Soufflé on several occasions. I had found it daunting in the past, but as it turns out, for no reason whatsoever. I had been putting it away or simply forgetting about trying to bake it, and I’m a little annoyed with myself now for not doing it earlier. Somehow a sweet, chocolate or fruit soufflé is not that much of my cup of tea, The Dégustaur is not keen on them either, but a savoury soufflé is a revelation. I really like baking a generous – one pot soufflé, so everyone can help themselves when at the table, making it a very convivial meal.

Comté Cheese Soufflé

In both of the French restaurants mentioned above I’ve tried Rabbit in a Mustard and Tarragon Sauce. I had made an attempt at cooking rabbit that way myself, which at that time wasn’t a great success. A few years later, with some experience and by trial and error my culinary skills have improved, and I’ve just cooked us the best rabbit dish I can remember. It’s a simple dish to make, but there a few tricks and ingredients that make it superb. I’m also very happy at the moment because I can buy at my local butcher just the legs rather than the entire rabbit to be jointed, which is more fiddly to eat and to cook with. A little luxury I have here in London (the choice), but once we return to Italy I’ll be buying the whole rabbit again and cooking all the parts. I like my mustard-tarragon sauce to be slightly creamier than the traditional recipes indicate, just enough to pour it over boiled potatoes or to give a lovely coating to the cooked rabbit parts, enhancing their flavour and making them more appealing visually.

A Remoulade – Style Potato Salad has appeared on our table twice in one week. A trusted indication that it’s a good recipe, the one to keep. This potato salad is a wonderful addition to any summery, outdoor meal or a picnic. It pairs extremely well with pan fried or grilled fish, or with cold cuts of meat.

Since we came back from Normandy I’ve been baking a lot, more than I can remember. Butter, eggs and flour are on my shopping list almost daily and a loaf of brioche has become a weekly staple by now. I’ve tried and tested a recipe that works every time, I love the texture, flavour and we particularly enjoy a thick slice of it toasted, smothered with some melting butter and then topped with a bitter orange marmalade. Paris-Brest, not a full success yet but the flavours are wonderful, especially the filling made of vanilla crème patisserie whisked with a high quality hazelnut spread. I have to work on the pastry part, and make the filling slightly thicker (which means more butter or gelatine), a work in progress and I’ll only share the recipe once I’m fully happy with it.

Far Breton

What made us very happy recently was my “newer” version of Far Breton (the first recipe is still on the blog), I changed the proportions of the ingredients ever so slightly, added some vanilla and soaked the prunes in a generous amount or rum for far longer. Another step which helps with the batter is to warm up the milk before whisking it with all other ingredients. It’s a custard-like cake made of eggs, milk, flour and some beurre noisette. You just layer the prepared dish with the rum soaked prunes, gently pour the batter all over and bake until golden. Savouring it whilst still slightly warm is just heaven to eat.

As I write this post the weather has turned and it feels like summer again. There are cherries, strawberries, raspberries and apricots ladened on the kitchen table. When the fruit is ripe and at its best I like it on its own, just as it is, fresh and ripe, to savour it properly, especially when the season is so short. I follow the same philosophy with all the fruit, something we had discussed with Leo, “my” fruit vendor in Florence. We had talked about figs then and so when you are lucky to find at a market proper figs: ripe, sweet, soft and juicy, you don’t cook with them, you have them raw and enjoy every mouthful. Otherwise, of course, have fun baking and perhaps a clafoutis is the right answer to a lovely summer pudding, with figs or any other summer fruit.

Bon appétit


” Another time, but soon”…a little trip to Normandy

May 3, 2024

”Another time, but soon”- is what we said to each other when we postponed our little trip to Normandy during Easter this year.

It wasn’t long before we firmly agreed: ”it’s almost like a now or never situation; soon we may not even have enough time to go and if it rains-we’ll just take a rain coat and a pair of adequate boots”. The same evening we made and confirmed the reservations, booked the Channel Tunnel ticket and even the weather forecast looked promising.
Within a few days we finally departed on our little journey to the land of delicious apples and pears; to the land of cider and Calvados, to the vast lush and green landscape on which healthy looking cows are left to graze, producing a rich and much sought-after milk. Just think about the best tasting butter, soft cheeses, delicious milk and creamy fresh natural yogurt for breakfast- the best we’ve had in a long while.

We arrived in Honfleur, a charming harbour town, on a sunny Friday afternoon. The Dégustateur had chosen our accommodation and he did well. After we parked our car under an avenue of plane trees, we headed towards our guest house, unusually for us, as we are more hotel people. The house however, looked just lovely the minute we saw it, moreover, we were greeted by a true copy of Madame Duflot. If you’ve seen Ridley Scott’s „A Good Year”, you’ll immediately smile and remember the charismatic character of Ludivine, with the sweetest French accent. It’s a fabulous romantic comedy that I really recommend viewing. Warning! You may irreversibly fall in love with the Luberon part of Provence after having watched it.

Once we left our bags in the room we strolled to the harbour for a glass of cider (always dry for me) and to soak up the last rays of the warm afternoon sun. We spent the last hours of this glorious afternoon ambling back and forth along narrow streets, squares and corners, inquisitively looking at the menus of bistros end restaurants (we had asked “Madame Duflot” for some recommendations), we couldn’t resist the very appealing spice shops with all manner of salt and spice mixes piled high in neatly arranged containers. We stumbled upon a wine fair and a shop next to it, that felt just right to purchase (on the last day) a lovely bottle of aged artisan Calvados Pays d’Auge, to sip after a meal by candlelight back home.
Calvados is one of the “big three” French brandies along with Cognac and Armagnac.
Whilst its respective cousins are based on grapes, Calvados begins its life in the orchards of Normandy (in the form of apples and pears). It’s governed by three sets of overlapping AOC regulations (Appellation d’Origine Contrôlée) and each one of them has slightly different rules on the type of still that may be used and the proportion of apples and pears that can go into the mix. The Calvados AOC, for example, stretches over all Normandy and allows apples and pears to be used in any proportion.

We opted for Calvados Pays d’Auge, which covers an area just east of Caen, stretching from Deauville on the coast to about 30 km south of Lisieux, and the producers may use only 30 % of pears at most (as well as use only copper pots to distill their spirit). After having tasted a few brandies, we both agreed on the most fragrant and lesser known bottle of Calvados (aged for 6 years instead of 10 – as one would normally go for by rule of thumb).
We also purchased a couple of bottles of Calvados AOC to use for cooking and baking, something simpler with just 3 years of ageing.

Duck Parmantier & Le Lingot

Whilst we were taking a back ally leading to “our” townhouse, all of a sudden we came across a charming elegant restaurant, with perfect white tablecloths, aqua coloured checked windows and doors, which were left open as an invitation. Lots of hanging plants above the windows, tall candle sticks and historic images dotted on forest green walls. I had a positive strong feeling about “Le Lingot”, to the point that we swapped the reservation we had already made in order to be able to dine there. And the meal was truly amazing, exactly what we were both longing for: beautiful, traditional fresh produce (mainly foraged on the day) turned into a creative but not overly elaborated menu, accompanied by a bottle of Sancerre from the Loire Valley. We got invited to the kitchen to meet the chef and the team of just two, working very hard and proud. I’d go back to Honfleur just to eat at “Le Lingot” again.

Our late breakfast, after a couple of early morning coffees near the harbour, was a selection of brioches, canelés (a speciality from Bordeaux), kouign amann (a buttery layered pastry cake from neighbouring Brittany) and a punnet of fragrant strawberries from the Saturday market stretching across the entire historic part of the town. We love markets, correction: farmers’ markets, selling clothing or bed mattresses perhaps could be avoided, but c’est la vie! Going back to the food itself, it was a very authentic market with people coming to shop for the weekend. Despite the fact that Honfleur is both a national and foreign tourist destination, nobody was taking pictures at the market (except a few snaps taken my me). It’s just not a tourist attraction, you go there to shop.

The weather was beautiful and the sun was getting stronger and stronger. There is a gorgeous, cleverly designed park separating the town from the waterfront. Towards the end of that park leading to the beach, there is a pond. The pond has some water lilies, a little blue bridge and a line of trees around it, under which a couple of families were picnicking on the grass. The scene was so evocative of Monet. The beach itself is very wide and easy to walk on but not the prettiest. With no better plans we just walked along until we saw a beach front restaurant, a very happening place thronging with locals. We had a great lunch: oysters, a seafood platter, cold beer and we got some sun on our faces too, finally.

Deauville

After two nights in Honfleur we drove inland stopping in Deauville on the way. Deauville is a rather posh and pretty coastal town, very popular with Parisians for the weekends. It was Sunday, a market day in Deauville with a bustling happy atmosphere. We sat down for a coffee and a couple of waffles soaked in salted caramel, absolutely to die for. In Normandy you’ll see caramel everywhere: plain, salted, with Calvados or even cider. Pancakes are served at a later hour of the day with all the array of flavoured caramels to choose from. We had stayed in Deauville in the past and we both have very fond and tender memories of it. It had been during an autumnal weekend and it felt slightly more demure back then. A lot has changed over the years, the restaurant we wanted to go back to wasn’t the same anymore, so we settled on a portion of “Moules à la Crème” -with a creamy cider sauce- in a happening bistro, before driving to our next port of call, somewhere between the villages of Camembert and Livarot. Pays d’Auge is Normandy’s most emblematic verdant green area exuding rural charm. It’s here where the picturesque apple orchards meet historic towns, half-timbered manor houses and farm-fresh produce. The weather turned, the temperatures dropped and it started to drizzle. The earthy notes of nature had never smelt better.

Beuvron-en Auge&My Normandy Apple Tart

Duck Parmentier with Pipérade

On the fallowing morning we drove to a large local (food-only) market in the village of Saint-Pierre-sur-Dives. It was here where I bought 2 kg of glistening in the early spring sun white asparagus, 3 kg of fragrant and flavoursome chantecler apples (for baking and eating back home), some fresh cheeses, bread with figs and a cured ham from Sardinia for supper. After that we visited the quaint and quiet Beuvron-en Auge village. It started to rain quite heavily by then and luckily we found a cosy restaurant for a long lunch, with hearty traditional food eaten by the fire. It’s here where I tried a Duck Confit Parmentier, I imagine you could call it a duck confit pie, for the first time. Back in London I made my own version of it, alternating the duck confit meat with a Basque style stewed peppers spiced with pepper d’espellete. All covered with a layer of garlic and thyme potato puree, baked until slightly crisp and golden in colour. It is a great dish, easy to make, a sophisticated version of a crowd pleaser. The white asparagus I turned immediately into a velvety potage finished with some chives and a few pinches of pepper d’espellete. Steamed, both white and green asparagus, we truly enjoy alla Veneta, decorated with chopped boiled eggs, partially turned into a thick sauce along with olive oil and a splash of a good wine vinegar. The Calvados, which works wonders in the kitchen, I’ve been using for baking a whole Camembert cheese (also with honey and thyme) to be scooped out with hunks of fresh baguette and/or crunchy endive leaves. After our recent Normandy trip I baked us an apple, cinnamon, crème fraîche and Calvados tart, something I used to bake in the past, this time with the addition of cinnamon. So delightful, even when reheated!

“My crêpes au Calvados” drizzled with salted caramel or caramel au Calvados may actually become our regular treat for a spoiling lazy breakfast at home.

In a few words, our long weekend excursion to the continent couldn’t have been any more delicious !!


When the Plans Change…

April 10, 2024

The weather forecast was showing grey or grey and rainy days for almost the entire week.

The week in which we had Easter and also it happened to be my birthday. Our initial intention was to go to the continent, as you say here in England, to Normandy to be precise. A trip we had been planning and plotting almost forever, but as it often happens in life, there has never been enough time, too far to go or the need to travel in the opposite direction. Being in London at the moment makes for a perfect opportunity; we just need to book the Channel Tunnel ticket, take the car and drive to France, not a lengthy distance for us this time. Unfortunately, the weather was going to be not exactly travel friendly not only in the UK. I believe almost the whole continent was under a bad spell over the Easter period. Subsequently, we didn’t go to Normandy. „Another time, but soon”, we said.

As it turned out, something that happens often here, the initial weather predictions were quite far off from the truth and we had a few beautiful and blissful days in London.

We had no plans for Easter, well, almost. You see, The Good Friday was also my birthday and the Dégustateur swiftly booked counter seats (our favourite – you can watch the chefs at work), at Zuma. A pair of heels and a dress on, a few glasses of rosé champagne by the bar first (it used the be a very happening bar and it still is) for a small toast, followed by the best Japanese food I believe there is in London at the moment. We live very close to Zuma but going there is always a spacial treat for us, most importantly because the food quality and its choice has not changed over the years and recent difficult moments for the hospitality industry.

Green Park & Smoked Haddock

When I arrived in London to our little house, a pied-à-terre to be precise, whilst cooking and preparing our evening meals I started putting Zucchero’s playlist on youtube, among a couple of other Italian artists. It would always cheer me up and the Dégustatuer soon became a fan of his. One evening when my hands were busy chopping and stirring in the kitchen I asked the Dégustateur to check for any upcoming concerts of Zucchero in Italy. He on the other hand replied: „Listen to this! He will be performing at The Royal Albert Hall for three evenings at the end of March, starting his world tour in London”. We kept that in mind and since we had said a definitive no to the Normandy trip we were lucky to get a pair of tickets to the concert. It was just perfect. After an early dinner at home we strolled to the venue. It didn’t rain and the atmosphere started to build up once we were approaching The Royal Albert Hall. All you could hear was the Italian language all around us.

We had a glass of champagne at the bar and the second one in our box (we treated it as my birthday weekend), and then we were just taken away by the great show that Zucchero and his team put on, with myself dancing almost the entire evening along with the rest of the public.

Oh!, I almost forgot: my birthday cake – Tarte Tropézienne – we got it from The Birley Bakery in Chelsea Green. They add an orange blossom water to it and it’s the best one I’ve ever had. It’s also sold per slice, really worthwhile paying a visit if you would like a real treat.

Cooking is my passion and I spend more time in the kitchen than in any other room. It’s where I try new recipes, cook again our firm favourites, where I flip through cook books (I also do it in bed before falling asleep) searching for something different to try, it’s where I have most of my conversations with the Dégustateur, over the dining table and by candle light- not because we are extremely romantic but because I really loathe the lighting we have in our rented house. My solution to the problem was to buy a few side lamps and lots of candlesticks. Subsequently the atmosphere over a meal is much nicer, calmer and yes, more romantic, plus everything and everybody looks better in a flickering soft candle light. Our kitchen is also the room with the poorest source of natural light, and if you know London a little, you will know what I intend to say. It’s also the reason why I almost never take any pictures in there. There will be a new place in the future and a new kitchen to come, something to look forward to.

I’d usually plan a day or two ahead what to cook, but this Easter, however, I left it to play by ear.
I decided just to go the shops and see what caught my eye. In London most of the grocery shops and food halls were open anyway, so why not take the advantage of it? For the Sunday late breakfast (after the concert) we had eggs with smoked haddock and chives. I was only poaching the haddock just after 11am, but that is what I truly love about slow mornings, which don’t happen that often. I made us a very simplified, nonetheless very comforting and delicious take on the Arnold Bennett omelette. In fact I prepared scrambled eggs with some flakes of poached smoked haddock (poached in milk with some garlic and bay leaf), crunchy baguette with lashings of good butter and lots of Earl Grey tea.

Thyme & Mustard Roast Poussin

We had a beautiful sun pouring through the dining and living room, the morning clouds burned off and we fancied a walk. We took the back streets along distinctive crescents and townhouses which are homes mainly to embassies or the super wealthy, who are hardly ever there, making the streets and pavements peaceful, slow paced and enjoyable to amble along. We reached Hyde Park Corner, passed along the newly opened Peninsula hotel and crossed towards Green Park. Glowing yellow daffodils, blue skies, verdant green grass, happy faces of passing crowds and very oddly, just a couple of squirrels around (they must have gone back into hibernation, it was rather bitterly cold before Easter) searching for food. We passed The Ritz and walked to the Fortnum & Mason food hall to buy more tea, and then to our favourite book store, Hatchards, right next to it.
I accidentally found a book that I hadn’t been able to trace a few years back: „A Month in Siena” by Hisham Matar. I’ve just finished reading it and in case you were thinking of getting a copy as well, it’s not a guided story describing daily life in Siena, but it’s a moving exploration of an impact of Sienese art on the author’s life and his grief over the loss of his father.

After I made my happy purchase we walked through St James’s passing Britain’s oldest wine & spirit merchant Berry Bros, where you could also have your wine stored, heading towards Pall Mall and from there through a sneaky passage back to Green Park. Just before returning home we stopped at our local pub „The Grenadier” (the images of it are in my previous post), we were finally able to stand outside, in the sun and sheltered from the wind, we watched the world go by, we had a little Guinness each and a few sausages with strong mustard, as you would often do in a pub. For a little while we’ve swapped a glass of wine for a small Guinness. È la vita!

This surprising and very welcomed change in weather dictated what I wanted to cook. Something nutritious, delicate but still with some character- a sun kissed proper dinner, eaten by candle light of course. We relished golden in colour mustard and thyme roast poussins, which I had marinated for half of the day. They were roasting snuggly in a baking dish surrounded by pre-cooked potatoes, which would gain a hint of mustard, garlic and thyme too. They were a dream served with a tomato, thinly sliced shallot and parsley salad (drizzled with a simple olive oil and vinegar dressing). And whilst the baby chickens were getting ready in the oven we nibbled on black olive and parmesan biscuits I had just baked, something very different to my usual repertoire and with all honesty – I regret not having baked them earlier, sipping a glass of wine. At home it’s always a bottle of wine, mostly red, Guinness I leave for an occasional visit to a pub. Salute !


Sometimes Fresh Rosemary is all You Need

March 17, 2024

La Pavoni La Pavoni

Banana Bread

As winter slowly draws to a close – the days are longer and warmer, the sun is still very shy but I can hear that whisper of Spring around the corner – I’ve found myself still holding onto cosy wintery cooking, as if I almost didn’t want to let it go and say goodbye properly. The truth is that I do want to let it go, but in London the winter lingers for a little longer, outside it’s grey more often than not, frequently overcast, little drizzle here and there, or it’s simply wet- that’s when I use the expression “it’s raining cats and dogs” most often. A couple of the past weeks however, have been surprisingly dry, but cloaked in a very silent, almost romantic haze and a gentle fog. The kind of weather I truly enjoy here in London because it’s different and atmospheric. It sets the tone and the pace of the day, of what I’d like to cook or bake for us, and how many milky coffees we feel like having.

I always start my day with a large coffee made in an iconic moka stove pot. That is when I have a little moment just for myself (I wake up earlier): freshly brewed coffee and a few pages of a good book that has been captivating almost my entire attention, or I’d open The Times newspaper on my phone app and play Italian news in the background, a good blend of both: news and languages.

After the first coffee I’d have my second one, and here is where a delicate variation might comes in to play: La Pavoni coffee maker. It’s all copper and it takes a while for the water in the chamber to reach the desirable temperature. So whilst sipping my first coffee and looking through the window at a still dark and slow morning, I press the switch button on, patiently leaving the coffee machine to get ready. The Dégustatuer would be up be then. He loves the coffees I make, which is still a work in progress, with lots of frothy milk, English weather style as I call them. We bought our La Pavoni coffee maker over a year ago for Christmas, choosing a slightly more complex model with two pressure bars. The second bar signalling the pressure at which I pull an espresso took me a while to feel comfortable with. Well, it only took exchanging the coffee machine once and eventually buying a La Pavoni coffee grinder (they are not the cheapest; one thing at a time), which made all the difference. Because of the practicality and the timing we don’t’ use our copper gem daily, instead, we make more of an event out of it. The coffee beans I usually bring from the Sant’ Esustachio coffee shop in Rome, which apart from the flavour is a sentimental affair for me. Each time when we are in Piedmont on the other hand, I get a bag of Caffe Vergnano 1882 beans, and in London I buy Harrods collection number 14. Iconic Fortum & Maison I save for a real spoiling treat.

Aside from improving my coffee making skills I’ve found myself baking brioche bread a lot recently. With all honesty it’s quick to make and all the kneading is done by the standing mixer. A thick toasted slice of a brioche loaf with melting butter on top and a bitter orange marmalade is just heaven for breakfast, and it tastes better, as certainly you can imagine, accompanied by a good coffee, especially on a slightly dark and peaceful morning.
Currently my plan is to test the brioche recipe with different kinds of flour to find the texture that pleases me the most. I shall keep you informed on my progress.

As of late The Dégustateur fairly often would mention to me how much he likes banana bread and that his late mother used to make a very good one. I think it’s so lovely to have these kind of memories of the loved ones that are no longer with us, and the food they used to make that surely was the best food in the world.

I had never had banana bread before, I hadn’t grown up with it and somehow it had never caught my attention in the past. Until now. Combining The Dégustateur’s sweet childhood memories and a recipe I accidentally stumbled upon on Instagram (a great joy of social media) I used exactly four ripe bananas that we had left to make a truly delicious and moist banana and walnut bread. I can unabashedly claim that this recipe is a triumph. It’s not mine, I found it on Cherie Denham’s Instagram account (click here) and I’m terribly tempted now to order her book “The Irish Bakery”.

Our local pub

There is almost no better place to cook with wonderfully thick and firm, gleaming with freshness cod fillets coming from the cold waters that surround England. To really appreciate and enjoy preparing cod for your meal, the fillets should be thick, and they will just flake apart when they are cooked. I’ve eaten so many variations of baked cod rolled in Parma ham accompanied by some lentils, or pan fried with spicy chorizo and beans, both ways so popular in the UK, but at home I wanted something different. I wanted to taste and smell fresh rosemary. I can still remember the sauce that accompanied a whole baked turbot we had at La Petite Maison in London almost five years ago. I remember its earthy notes of rosemary and the freshness deriving from lemons, and a mild punch of Dijon mustard. I also remember a hint of sweetness in that sauce, just enough to offset the lemon juice ever so slightly.

At home, for my cod fillets however, I want the sauce to be even more pronounced, I want the flavours to be slightly bigger and bolder, especially when the two are baked together rather than served separately.

There is a trick I’ve learned from watching Rick Stein cook: poach the fish or seafood first (for one or two minutes) before baking, it will prevent it from releasing too much water into the sauce. You could, of course, omit that step should you prefer or when rushed for time.

If you wish to make the baked cod in a rosemary, lemon and mustard sauce, prepare a copious amount of fragrant rosemary, a good lemon (not too sharp if possible) and two kinds of mustard: a whole grain and Dijon. Whisk it along with a few more of the ingredients, cover your cod fillet with the sauce and bake for about 20 minutes (full recipe here). We love it with some roast potatoes (with garlic and sage for example) and a fresh salad.

Scones with clotted cream and raspberry jam

There is one more recipe I’d love to share with you for something uniquely British: Scones.

Have them for breakfast or an afternoon tea. Traditionally they are eaten with jam and a clotted cream (a very thick cream). There has been an ongoing dispute about how you should eat scones: cream first topped with the jam or the the other way round? Butter or no butter? Personally I smear them with the cream first, and bake them with raisins. Apparently they should always be made with raisins. Eat them as you like, preferably still warm, they work extremely well with a raspberry or strawberry jam.

I’m also leaving you a few book recommendations that I’ve been enjoying recently (they all have an Italian theme) and you may find them of interest:

1. „Hemingway in Italy” by Richard Owen

2. „Italian Hours” by Henry James

3. „Venice: The Lion, the city and the water” by Cees Nooteboom

4. „Death at La Fenice” and „The Anonymous Venetian” by Donna Leon

Buon appetito,

Aleksandra xx


Colourful Autumnal Salads

November 25, 2023

I believe this blog post is the shortest post I’ve written so far, purposely done bearing in mind that in late November most of us already think, plan and prepare for the Christmas affair, which is the most beautiful and festive time of the year.
Whilst we start to leaf through the glossy magazines, cook books and our own firm favourite Christmas recipes we still (I hope) try to eat well, healthy and creatively in some way.

For me, vegetables, conventionally categorised into starters or antipasti and side dishes, have always played an equally important role during any meal, especially when we eat at home.
In Italy we’ve been spoiled for seasonal choice and variety. The vegetables: all manner of fresh salad leaves, artichokes, multicoloured beans, puntarelle, bitter chicory, Swiss Chard, porcini mushrooms and so forth, are prepared in a very simple way, where the flavour and texture of the vegetable is the main focus, without extra, and very often unnecessary, embellishments. No need to mention that the food markets are open six days a week. A hustle and bustle activity that I miss in London dearly. In the Italian restaurants the „contorni” (side dishes) are anticipated and to be searched for rather than dismissed as a boring filler and another addition to the bill. When in Rome for example, look out for the artichokes alla Romana (slowly cooked) or alla giudia (deep fried), or „le puntarelle” with anchovy dressing. Very seasonal, traditional and absolutely delicious way of celebrating the autumnal-wintery greens.That’s only one of the reasons, why you should open the „contorni” page on the menu.

In London however, the variety of the fresh produce and its choice is different. I can find Italian ingredients here too, even very close to home, but then, occasionally there is the problem with its freshness. Lets face it, a wilted radicchio leaf is not a joy to eat.
Therefore, whilst we temporarily live in London, I have found my way around how and where to shop, and subsequently I conjure up different kinds of salads or side dishes for us. Having said that, I’ve never liked the confinement of starters and side dishes to an almost secondary role, lets celebrate together the importance, enjoyment and deliciousness of different flavours, seasonality put together on a plate.

I’ve just shared a few new recipes for:

– Pear, Green Tomato, Green Beans, Comte & Hazelnuts Autumnal Salad

– Beetroot, Pomegranate and Red Endive Salad

-Cucumber, Little Gem Lettuce and Lovage Salad

-Beetroot, Red Cabbage and Red Onion Salad

-Crunchy Carrot Salad

-Cucumber and Dill Side Dish

and I truly hope you enjoy them xx


A Pied-à-Terre in London Overlooking Elizabeth David’s House

November 2, 2023

Some time ago the Dégustatuer came to me with an announcement: we have to live in London.
Live? I felt like I didn’t really know the meaning of this word anymore, out of fear. Fear of relocating but mostly fear of not living in Italy.
I felt that I had settled in Italy already, despite the fact we moved around a little, first Rome, then Venice and Florence to follow. I had started to feel that this adopted country has become a home to me, which was about to collapse and the entire world to fall apart. But the world didn’t fall apart and instead of relocating we have had to come to terms with sharing our time between London and Florence, with myself being, at least initially, mainly in Florence making a fairly smooth transition, with a few bumps on the road, to spending more time together in London.

Our „little” pied-à-terre, is a mews house, when we collected the keys it needed some love.
All the beautiful plants climbing on one side of the house had died during the abnormally dry and warm English summer (over a year ago by now). Sadly nobody took care of them in the meantime and there wasn’t a lot we could do to save them.

The unfurnished property needed to be turned into a liveable space almost immediately: we had found online a French antique dining table from a dealer based in London, which couldn’t be any easier; the very big and super comfortable bed came on the first day too (perfect, no need for a hotel), which found its way to the top floor and the largest bedroom in the house.

We made our first trip to London by car bringing lots of little necessary items and utensils for the kitchen, a few cookbooks and some clothes. After a couple of months we also shipped more of our belongings from Florence and the rest we’ve been buying gradually. We may not furnish our pied-à-terre completely, there is no such need for it as yet, but the kitchen however, is very well stocked up and fully equipped. Each time when we make a road trip from Italy to the UK I bring so many specific ingredients like taralli from my favourite shop, vinegars, hazelnuts, anchovy sauce „la colatura di alici” and different kinds of flour. From our latest adventure and drive through various places in Tuscany and Alba I managed to get a whole year’s supply of olive oil (also a very young one, not filtered and extremely fragrant) and wine, mainly from the Langhe region, always red.

The usual scene after a trip to The Pimlico Road Market

Before our life changing Italian adventure which started in Rome, we both had lived in London and it’s where we met. It should feel more natural being back, especially to the same area and on a relatively temporary basis, but somehow, it isn’t. A lot has changed in the meantime. There was Brexit to begin with, followed by Covid. The demographics, the choice of produce (I mean food here) and its availability, the restaurant scene has changed. In some ways I had to rediscover London again. We eat at home a lot, by choice, a lot more than we had envisaged. I thought I’d cook more non Italian food here, like French or experiment more Oriental and spicy cuisines, but that hasn’t fully worked out. Our taste buds have shifted and got used to the Italian culture of eating and preparing meals. Moreover, I’d always find a new recipe to try out, which in turns becomes our latest favourite, so we stay close to what we like best.

In London I’ve always enjoyed going to the Pimlico Road Farmer’s Market, which opens only on Saturdays. There is this one particular stand where I manage to find delicious and crisp apples, colourful bunches of fresh Swiss chard (so hard to find otherwise in central London), crunchy spinach leaves, wonderful cauliflower and carrots.

At the very beginning of our new living situation, before I found my proper way around the old and new grocery shops, when mainly root and cabbage family vegetables were in season,
the St John’s „Beyond Nose to Tail” cookbook came to my rescue. All of a sudden everything got better with a dollop of crème fraîche, mustard and a handful of capers. Now, when St John restaurant opened its doors in Marylebone, it’s much easier for us to hop on the tube or even walk to dine there. I immediately shared with you two recipes: for a thinly sliced beetroot salad and roast pumpkin (or squash) with beans and a dollop of greek yogurt. Surely there will be more to come.

The top floor bedroom in our mews house with eaves has two sets of opposite windows.
Along one of them (with a nicer view) I organised my desk where very often I’d write and edit the recipes for the blog, and occasionally get distracted watching the world go by.
From the left corner of my window I can see a short polished street lined with terraced white properties on both sides, just like a mirror image. In London it’s a custom to elegantly display on buildings blue plaques containing the information with the relevant years when a famous person (an actor, artist, musician, writer and so forth) had lived at a given address.

I take Halsey Street most often than not when I stroll to my fishmonger. One day when I suddenly looked up at the number 24 I noticed a blue plaque commemorating Elizabeth David (1913-1992), a cookery writer, who lived and worked at this II grade listed house between 1947-1992. I can see her house each time I approach the window or simply work at my desk. A destiny? Call it as you wish, but since that day I’ve been a happier person in London, more creative and relaxed about sharing our living situation between two countries.

I own two Elizabeth David’s cookbooks. The first one I bought had to be „Italian Food” of course, and the second one „Is There a Nutmeg in the House?” the Dègustateur gave me a couple of years ago whilst living in Venice. It was one of the very few items he got left by his late mother. This is the book that I, fully unaware of the Elizabeth David’s house across our future London base, packed and shipped from Italy to my new kitchen.

In early September, upon returning from our annual summer family holidays in Poland, I decided to get reacquainted with the „Is There a Nutmeg in the House?” book and chose a few recipes that caught my attention. This particular book is a direct sequel to „An Omelette and a Glass of Whine”, it contains a selection of the author’s journalistic and occasional writing as well as material from her files, notes and letters, none of which has appeared in any of Elizabeth’s nine previous books.

My initial intention was to build a whole menu (and cook a big dinner for us) out of the selected recipes: a starter, maybe a mid course, main course, some vegetables and a dessert. But instead I settled on choosing a few dishes that I really wanted to try out and prepared them all on separate occasions, adapting the recipes ever so slightly as the quantities of the ingredients were not always indicated.

My very first dish was: pork chops, spiced and grilled, and this is what the author says about them: „This is an effortless and delicious lunch or supper. It does however presuppose a supply of the home-made Italian spice (white peppercorns, juniper berries, nutmeg and cloves)…”. I served the spiced chops with a crunchy green salad and a potato and onion frittata (something new that I wanted to give a go at the same time).

On the following weekend I made us a spinach and potato tian (there are anchovies involved too which truly elevate this potato, spinach and egg bake onto another level), which coincided perfectly with warm weather in London. It’s meant to be eaten once it’s cooled down enough (it needs to set before slicing) and works a dream for a picnic. I had watched a video by Elizabeth’s editor, Jill Norman (link here), which helped me a lot to put this recipe together. We absolutely loved it and I can’t wait to bake the tian again.

Finding new pasta recipes is always a winner for me and I didn’t have to force myself much here either. The minute I saw „Tagliatelle al Mascarpone” with walnuts and parmesan I said to myself: I just have to make it. I used tagliolini instead, and worked with the ingredients and their amounts to my liking. This mascarpone pasta recipe is the easiest and the quickest dish to make, and extremely enjoyable indeed.

Speaking about quick, easy and effortless; years back whilst visiting one of my favourite kitchen stores in London, David Mellor, I found a wonderful book on the shelves by Caroline Conran: „Sud de France. The food and Cooking of Languedoc”. One of the puddings I’ve always wanted to make from the book are chocolate pots with chestnut cream. You literally just have to melt some dark chocolate, stir in some cream, fill little pots or tea cups with the chocolate and drop a dollop of chestnut cream or puree in each. Since we are on a sweet note now and I haven’t decided yet what to make from the Elizabeth David’s book, I’m leaving you with this simple and indulgent chocolate recipe, which you can always modify, if you wish.

Buon appetito xx


Forgotten images and a birthday in Piedmont

April 16, 2023

Photographs, hidden in drawers, tucked in between pages of old books, or left somewhere in between paperwork on a desk top. The memory is like a drawer. You put something in, close it and most likely forget about it.

To open the drawer again means to bring the memories back to life, to tell a story and let those images left in disorder spark and start a new narrative.
My disorganised collection of images that I stumbled upon recently was in a form of a memory card the I hadn’t fully forgotten. I’d rather say that I had left it for the right moment.
I haven’t even glanced yet at the whole set of the higgledy piggledy pictures taken here and there, but I knew that there were a few moments saved from my birthday a year ago.

More often than not, we celebrate our birthdays by going away for a couple of days, just the two of us. A convivial sharing of a birthday cake comes afterwards.
It was end of March and that year we were undecided between The Amalfi Coast, Sorrento, and a little medieval town in Piedmont called Guarene. During the period after Christmas and before Easter very few places are open on the Costiera Amalfitana, and the hotel we wanted to stay at was waiting for Easter to open its doors to welcome its guests. Usually at this time of year the weather is rather unsettled and after having checked the weather forecast, we abandoned the idea of Sorrento and left for Piedmont instead. We had chosen to stay at Castello di Guarene, an exquisitely renovated and restored 18th century former summer residence of the Counts of Roero, built where in the Medieval Era a fortress used to stand. Guarene is perched on a hilltop and the castello boasts unparalleled views over the vine growing hills of Langhe and Roero. Its gardens are very elegant and vast, landscaped in the Italian style in the first half of eighteen century. Guarene was also just a perfect base for us to go to Alba, Canale and Bra on our last day.

We ventured to Alba for my birthday, a little seafood lunch followed by the purchase of some local specialities to take home with us. I’d always buy some carnaroli rice, hazelnuts, tajarin pasta, ganduiotti and some wine. We also ended up with a bag Corinth raisins (sold per weight) which I love baking with, deliciously looking big jars of tuna in oil (perfect for salads) and a couple of bottles of Tuscan wine, only because the price tag was more attractive (which is often the case).

After an afternoon spent at leisure in the spa and a few lengths in the swimming pool, we were set for an intimate birthday dinner in a private dining room, where we relished some samples of the best known Piedmontese classics. Then a morning walk in the gardens, more of the spa (as it started to rain) a dinner in Canale, our much loved and happy place. I think it’s perhaps because it was in Roero where we started our relationship and appreciation of Piedmont, in a lovely agriturismo a few minutes outside Canale.

Just after our last breakfast in the most stunning room with high ceilings, Murano chandeliers, hand painted walls and secret doors we drove to Bra. I managed to quickly run to the nearest butcher and get some Bra sausage literally two minutes before all the shops closed for their lunch break. In Italy closing lunch times are sacrilegious.

A delightful surprise and a present for both of us was Fulvia, my friend from Turin, joining us for lunch at Osteria Boccondivino. A very warm, joyous and laughter filled time spent together, an absolute highlight and a perfect ending to this trip.

And that is exactly how this untold story and almost forgotten pictures have shaped my recent cooking and dictated what recipes I would like to share with you.

First is the La Focaccia della Befana (La Focaccia Dolce Piemontese).
I came across this particularly appealing recipe whilst searching for a way of making the focaccia dolce I once had in Southern Italy, in Basilicata to be precise. It was a form of a slightly sweet sourdough and olive oil bread with a sugared crust.
Instead I found this almost forgotten Focaccia Dolce Piemontese, studded with raisins and candied orange peel which has a beautiful and heart warming story behind: it used be prepared for the Christmas festive season all the way up until Epiphany, but it was also baked on occasions when people just wanted to gather to spend some time together, share a meal and enjoy each others company. I baked it twice in a row as our pre-Easter treat. It’s also a dream toasted with lashings of butter and cheese or a marmalade.

Also for Easter I made us Uova Ripiene alla Piemontese, hard boiled eggs with tuna and anchovy filling. A delicious and slight deviation from they way we would normally have them.
Recently I’ve been spending some time in London, in our pied-à-terre. As you can imagine, the markets, which are few and far between, or grocery stores don’t offer the same array of produce as we have gotten used to in Italy. Whilst I’m here however, I conjure up meals and work with what’s available, but still lean towards Italian cooking. So I’ve got reacquainted with jerusalem artichokes and cooking them with garlic and parsley is a loose adaptation from a cook book I bought recently in Turin. This side dish couldn’t be any simpler: peeled and sliced topinambur stewed in olive oil with a few cloves of garlic, then tossed with freshly chopped parsley and seasoned to taste.

Patate alla Savoiarda, buttery potato and Fontina cheese bake, is another cosy, very enticing and comforting dish from Piedmont, that you need very little to go with, perhaps some grilled vegetables or just a crisp green salad.

I remember the first time I baked the hazelnut and chestnut cream tart. Chestnuts and hazelnuts are a timeless and delicious combination which I’ve grown deeply fond of, and I have to thank Piemonte for this as well as the Ristorante Tre Galline in Turin. I tend to use a shop bought sweet chestnut puree (or cream) for the sheer ease, spread it inside the buttery pastry case and finish it off it with a generous layer of whipped egg and ground hazelnut topping. I find the traditional torta di nocciole slightly too dry for my personal liking, but this tart is a perfect matching of the shortcrust pastry, creamy filling and a moist crunchy layer of hazelnuts. I’ve baked this tart for us for Easter to pair it with chocolate Easter eggs, in a nutshell the essence of Piemonte flavours and a very delectable way to unearth some sweet birthday memories.


Tales of Turin

February 23, 2023

I met my friend Fulvia on social media, on Instagram. I can’t recall exactly how it all began, but we followed each other and she would often leave a kind comment under my posts. And I’d always reply.

I was living in Rome at that time, a few moons back, and one morning I got a message, that she was travelling to Rome for work commitments.
We met at the Termini Train Station, it was already late, almost past dinner time and her train was delayed. But we both wanted to meet, and time didn’t matter. We only spent a couple of hours together, but it turned out to be enough to connect and start a long term friendship. It would be the only time we saw each other in Rome. Venice was next.

We lived in Venice for a year, in a red palazzetto with a terrace on top. A few months after we had managed to settle in I received a fabulous text that Fulvia, her husband Michele and son Ruggero, a cute little boy, would be in town for a weekend. Michele loves sailing and he can navigate through the floating city with great ease. His father used to work in Venice as a professor and Michele would come to see him very often. Now it was his turn to show Fulvia and Ruggero around, and take them sailing too. This way, they would have a fun and exhausting day out, the humidity in august can be really tiring. The last dinner we had was in our palazzetto. I quickly came up with an idea of what to cook and rushed to the market. Fulvia and Michele come from Turin, and they love their meat, fish so so. I cooked a mix of Italian dishes, from Bucatini all’Amatriciana (a Roman pasta dish we love) to Sicilian Caponata. Having been initially slightly apprehensive about cooking an Italian feast for Italians I didn’t know that well yet, I decided to relax and just let it be. Some prosecco for an apreitivo always helps to put everybody at ease. The dinner turned into a terrific evening with lots of laughter, good food (we all truly enjoyed it), lots of wine and making plans to go to Turin. Ruggero by that time was already asleep in the room next door and the Dégustateur was finally convinced to go. „It’s a grey and industrial city”, he used to say, but now some curiosity sparkled in his eyes. Since then our friendship with Fulvia evolved and grew stronger, even without seeing each other for a very long time. A good test of a friendship is to be close when things turn difficult. And she was, more than I could imagine.

In January 2023 we made a decision: we are going to Turin, sooner rather than later.
We have a little pied-à-terre in London now and it was more convenient for us to fly from London rather than to go back to Florence first. We took an early flight and we left for almost ten days.

Once we arrived to a sunny and very cold Turin, I was in desperate need of a good coffee and a cornetto. I didn’t sleep very well that night and I needed a little pick me up. The hotel room was ready and we got a little surprise in a form of superb accommodation on the top floor with views over Turin and the white Alps in the background. It was almost midday and I had no idea where to go in a search of a coffee shop that would still serve breakfast. I walked into the first place that looked promising, had my cappuccino, orange juice and a cronetto alla crema for myself, and one alla gianduia for the Dégustatur, who stayed in the hotel for a work related matter.

After having warmed up a little we set off to search for a place for lunch. We didn’t know Turin at all. We just decided to discover it whilst being there, trust our observations and our own judgment, and we did well. It was already getting quite late and we had to move fast. After a few turns here and there, a few „no” to certain places, we stumbled upon Galleria Subalpina, with its iconic Caffé Baratti & Milano, the city’s institution, where ladies and gentlemen meet to talk, sip hot chocolate and immerse themselves in a Turin of other aristocratic times. Café Baratti & Milano, however, is also an excellent spot for lunch and our pasta dishes were just divine. After a lovely lunch accompanied by a glass of Barolo we completed our first meal with a coffee and the very first bicerin at Caffé Mulassano (IG), another well known and frequented establishment. Our first taste of Turin didn’t disappoint.

Italian breakfast, where it’s all about coffee, sweet pillowy soft freshly baked pastries and conviviality has become our favourite. We’ve been eating cornetti alla crema together again and enjoying this little pleasure in life more than in the past.

Our morning routine in Turin varied slightly: after a couple of coffees, la spremuta di arancia and cornetto we would walk to Guido Gobino for a rich and thick hot chocolate. Usually we would order a classic hot chocolate with whipped cream, or with a dollop of home made gianduia spread.

Another way of starting the day in Turin was to begin with a glass or two of bicerin, and then make our way to Farmacia del Cambio for a cappuccino and some of the best pastries we ever had. I’ve tried bicerin at a few coffee shops so far, and the one I’ve enjoyed the most belongs to Caffè Al Bicerin, exactly where it was born. The recipe is a safely treasured little secret. In order to obtain a good bicerin you have to combine three main ingredients: caffè, hot chocolate and crema di latte, all of which have to be of a very good quality. The hot chocolate is cooked patiently for hours in particular copper pots according to the „ricetta antica”, a special light and aromatic blend of the coffee must be selected to follow the original recipe, which has been passed down through the generations. Once the bicerin arrives on the table, the instructions will follow: don’t stir it, just sip it as it is. And that is exactly how we had two generous bicerin to start „our breakfast alla Torinese”. It may seem marginally excessive, but Turin is the city of chocolate, of traditions that I love and greatly enjoy. It wasn’t the time to count calories or feel guilty, moreover, it was very cold in January, we walked a lot only building our appetite for more.

We truly had a wonderful stay. On the first evening we were warmly welcomed by Fulvia, who started by giving us a tour around the historic centre and drove us to beautifully lit Monte Dei Cappuccini across the river Po, to admire the fascinating panorama of Turin. Slightly chilly and with red noses we all came back to our hotel for a super quick change into black dresses as we were meeting Michele for an elegant aperitivo followed by a birthday dinner at Arcadia restaurant (right next to Caffè Baratti&Milano). A very elegant venue with high ceilings, a timeless atmosphere and a very curated local cuisine. Perfect start to savouring Turin.

I must confess, after having lived in Rome, Venice and Florence, travelling a fair bit across Italy, it was so refreshing to eat in a restaurant and hear no other language but Italian. It didn’t happen in every single place we went to as you can imagine, the most „international” restaurants were the ones listed in the Michelin Guide, and they made their way onto the list for all the right reasons.

Turin is known to have been one of the greatest capitals of Italian industry. Whilst the memory of Fiat is slowly fading away, the name of Ganni Agnelli, a perfect example of discipline, charm and sprezzatura is still alive and growing stronger. La sprezzatura is an Italian word for something that is actually hard to categorise or define fully: it’s an elegance without showing almost any effort, nothing is overdone as if it always comes naturally, a nonchalance, that very few posses, and many want to achieve.

Nowadays the city tries to find its perfect balance between tourism, attracting new investment, creating employment, maintaining high levels of culture and education. It’s also extremely rich in green public spaces and by being located at the foot of a hill, it’s lazily cuddled by the longest Italian river, the Po.

Turin is a city of arcades, a historical and architectural heritage, made in different styles and of different materials. An 18 km stretch of the history, grandeur and elegance (12.5 km are interconnected). With the play of lights and shadows they make for a majestic setting of the salotto-like city of Turin. Just take a walk along Via Roma, then cross Piazza San Carlo (where the iconic red lit Martini sign hangs) all the way up to Piazza Castello. Next turn on Via Po and walk straight to the vast Piazza Vittorio Emanuele to be able to experience the sheer scale of this symbol of Turin and to feel like if almost entering a bygone era.

I’ve always had a soft spot for Piedmont and we’ve travelled to this region during various seasons of the year. Without a shadow of a doubt colder months are the most magical for me. Perhaps by paying a visit in January, and experiencing both sunny and very cold days as well as misty, sombre and atmospheric ones, I’ve found myself to be the happiest. I absolutely love the hot chocolate and sipping bicerin culture, the most suitable time for me to do this are the colder days of the year.

But my soft spot goes beyond the hot chocolate and coffee, it’s the wine and the manicured hills that make the wine alive and of a distinctive character, it’s my firm favourite vitello tonnato, thinly sliced cooked veal with lashings of tuna sauce (the version I make at home you can find here), brasato al vino– slowly cooked beef in a local red wine, then there are the peppers served with anchovies or an anchovy sauce, decadently rich in egg yolks tajarin pasta, or silky smooth panna cotta, or a creamy rich amaretti and cocoa custard called bunet. To name just a few. Oh, then there are the hazelnuts, the best ones in Italy. I have brought a new supply of hazelnuts back home with me and I’ll be baking (I think as soon as I finish this post) my forever favourite chestnut cream and hazelnut tart.

Before I list a few restaurants that we truly enjoyed and are hoping to dine at again, let me tell you a few words about „Fulvia’s risotto”.

One Sunday afternoon we drove with Fulvia and Michele over the hills of Turin up to Basilica di Superga. Our friends now live on one of the hills in their lovely family house with frescos, little church (yes, a church, not a chapel) and a red brick cantina below the house. We had our Sunday dinner at their house with Fulvia’s deft cooking, Michele’s wine entertainment and Ruggero’s help to lay the table. A fabulous meal with great food, wine, Michele mother’s hazelnut tart and each others company, all the main ingredients of an unforgettable evening. I definitely will not forget about the pumpkin and sausage rice dish (almost like a risotto but not quite) seasoned with cinnamon that Fulvia made.

When possible I bring back home a very particular Bra sausage, produced only in the city of Bra. It’s thin and rolled in circles, sold per weight, and it’s meant to be eaten raw, consumed within a two or three day window. I brought 1 kg of the sausage back. I used roughly three quarters of it, combined with minced veal, for a ragù to be tossed with tajarin or tagliolini pasta, and the rest I left for the risotto, my interpretation of Fulvia’s dish.

First I baked in the oven delica pumpkin sliced into half moons.
I opened a brand new pack of carnaroli rice and proceeded as with any risotto: I fried finely chopped onion in a mixture of olive and butter until it softened, then I added the rice and waited, until every grain of the rice got warm. Then I poured in some white wine and waited, until it almost evaporated but not completely! Next I tossed in the crumbled Bra sausage, started adding small quantities of warm light chicken stock along with pieces of the baked pumpkin. Somewhere in between I was adding ground cinnamon (be generous) and waited until the rice turned al dente and the dish creamy enough. You could stop here, but if you choose to follow the risotto making process fully, turn the heat off and energetically stir in some cubed cold butter and grated Grana Padano cheese, the process called mantecatura.
Wait two minutes and serve the risotto, always alla onda (a dense creamy consistency) and accompanied by a glass of red wine.

Find your favourite raw sausage and have fun in the kitchen, make it your own risotto with personalised ingredients.

When in Turin try:

Chocolate:

-Guido Gobino

-TOC

-Peyrano

Bicerin at Caffè Al Bicerin

Before dinner have an aperitivo, usually presented with a delightful array of nibbles.

Eat at:

Ristorante Consorzio, a very particular and creative journey through the regional food of Piedmont, I also loved the stripy pink-red tablecloths

Magazzino 52, an informal but of great quality and style eatery, with a vast and particular, well curated wine list

Tre Galline, a traditional and sophisticated establishment in Torino. I’ve wanted to eat there since my friend in Rome told me about it years back, and it was so worth the wait. Their famous bagna càuda is a must try, and it’s best shared: it comes almost overflowing with a generous selection of cooked and raw vegetables, as well as carne cruda (raw meat)

L’ Ancora– for the seafood lovers

Arcadia, next to Barrati & Milano, for an elegant and traditional meal as well as an impeccable old fashioned Italian service