I am one of those awkwardly pretentious people who loves quotations. I have a dictionary of quotations that my grandfather gave me when I was a teenager, and have been drawing on it for inspiration ever since. I have a number of them written in a little notebook I carry around, have them engraved into gifts and almost always write them in birthday cards: something about age and wisdom for the younger ones and, for the older ones, something about how bloody old they are.
One of the most overused quotations is, incidentally, one of my favourite books, Charles Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities. It’s been quoted in a number of terrible romantic comedies and sitcoms, but in the case of the week I’ve just had, it rings very true:
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.
Last Thursday I organised a very fun and glitzy party that was scuppered somewhat by my waking up with the cold from hell. This cold persisted into the weekend and on Saturday, with a red nose and sore throat, I celebrated my hen night with twenty of my dearest and, thankfully, healthy friends. Of course, after a couple of gin and tonics start to blur your brain, it is easy to forget that you are ill until it hits you tenfold the next morning. Let me be the one to tell you that martinis and decongestant tablets do not mix.
Since then, my cold has developed into a throat infection and a chest infection, which has rendered me more or less housebound for the past few days. As is always the way when I’m ill, I go running for the same list of things that will make me feel better: a box set of two or more seasons (this time it is House of Cards, which I am completely obsessed with), several bottles of original Lucozade, an abundance of tissues and as much fruit and vegetables as Ollie can carry back from the supermarket. Ordinarily I would make my ultimate cold-buster, the Chicken ‘n’ Dumplings of my dreams, but south east London is a muggy old place right now, and jointing and stewing a chicken in my tiny kitchen seems far more unappealing than it does in the winter.
Stir fried lamb with spring greens
Instead, I have been upping my intake of green vegetables. The wonderful thing about spring is the availability of more greens to break up the monotony of purple sprouting broccoli and kale we live on all winter. I go crazy on asparagus, samphire, gorgeous peppery watercress from my home county of Hampshire and nettles, which I discovered a few years ago. One of the best arrivals of the season, however, are spring greens, which have the benefit of being both versatile and cheap. They are the first cabbages of the year and have a strong iron-rich flavour and robust texture that lends itself well to a variety of different dishes. I have often used spring greens as a substitute for other leafy green vegetables such as spinach, pak choi or kale when I have been unable to get my hands on these, or simply have greens in the house.
Risotto primavera
I picked up a couple of these cabbages from the Co-op in East Dulwich for about £1 and had enough to make two main meals. The first was a take on Nigel Slater’s stir fried lamb with broccoli (you can guess which ingredient I replaced) that took from my Asian storecupboard of chillies, fish sauce and lime; and the second was from Italy, a risotto primavera, which succeeded in using up some odds and ends of green vegetables I had in the fridge and freezer: an old courgette, almost ready for the bin, a rogue celery stick and the ends of some bags of peas and broad beans lurking at the back of the freezer drawer.
The most important thing about cooking with spring greens, at least for me, it to remove the rough stalks in the middle of the leaves. I can hardly ever get them to cook to a point where they are tender, and always end up picking them out.
Stir Fried Lamb with Spring Greens
- 4 spring onions, finely chopped
- 3 large cloves garlic, finely chopped
- 2 red birds-eye chillies, seeds removed (keep them in if you like it hot) and finely chopped
- 2 tbsp vegetable oil
- 350g minced lamb
- Juice of 1½ limes
- 1½ tbsp fish sauce
- 1 tsp sugar
- 1 head of spring greens, stalks removed and leaves finely shredded
- Handful finely chopped coriander
Heat the oil in a large wok and stir fry the spring onions, garlic and chillies for a couple of minutes until they are soft but not coloured. Add the lamb mince, breaking up with a spatula, and cook until it is golden brown, about 10 minutes.
In a small bowl, mix together the lime, fish sauce and sugar then pour this mixture into the hot pan and stir through the lamb, cooking for an extra few minutes until some of the liquid has reduced.
Remove from the heat and check the seasoning. Stir in the spring greens and half of the coriander and cover the pan for a few minutes until the leaves have wilted in the residual heat. Sprinkle the remaining coriander on top and serve.
Serves two. Adapted from a recipe by Nigel Slater.
Risotto Primavera with Feta
- 1 tbsp olive oil
- 1 onion, finely chopped
- 1 stick of celery, finely chopped
- 2 cloves garlic, finely chopped
- 300g arborio rice
- 150ml dry white wine
- 1 courgette, diced
- 1l vegetable stock
- 1 tsp dried oregano
- 1 head of spring greens, stalks removed and leaves finely shredded
- 1 handful broad beans, podded
- 1 handful frozen peas
- 25g butter
- Salt and black pepper
- 50g feta, crumbled
Heat the oil in a large frying pan or chef’s pan and gently cook the onions, celery and garlic until soft but not coloured, this should take about 10 minutes on a low heat. Add the rice and stir thoroughly to ensure that the grains are coated in the oil. Turn up the heat and add the white wine to the pan, letting it bubble until almost all of the liquid has been evaporated. Stir in the diced courgette.
Keeping the pan on a medium heat, start adding the vegetable stock to the rice mixture, a ladle at a time, stirring regularly. Add the next ladle of stock only when the previous one has evaporated. Keep adding the stock, stirring as you go, until you have used three-quarters of it. Taste the rice, it should be cooked but slightly al dente. If the rice is still too hard, repeat the process of adding stock and stirring until it has reached the consistency that you like.
Remove from the heat and stir in the butter, seasoning, spring greens, broad beans and peas. Put a lid on the pan and leave for a couple of minutes until the butter has melted and the greens have wilted. Stir again and serve in large bowls, topped with the crumbled feta.
Serves two for dinner and then one for lunch the following day.
*Apologies for my photography – it’s terrible.
The Boozy Rouge 