Category Archives: Drinks

St Patrick’s Day Snacks!


There are so many fun recipes around for things to make on St Patrick’s Day – mostly unusually and improbably green things, it must be said. I don’t usually celebrate or make anything special, but this year two friends asked me if I was doing anything, so I took it as a Sign and had them both over the flat for some drinks and snacks.

I wanted to make green snacks, but without employing any food colouring. It turns out that naturally green food doesn’t always stay very green after you process it in some way, so I had varying degrees of success in this endeavour. Here are some snaps I took:

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Feta, cucumber and mint skewers. Pretty simple.

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Spinach and pea quiche, with thyme crust.

I sort of made this one up. I followed the crust recipe from this mushroom quiche - a very forgiving recipe, as it turns out, since I ended up seriously manhandling the dough with my hot hands and it was still light and crumbly in the end.

The filling was a mix of defrosted spinach and peas, salt and pepper, a splash of milk (I only had a splash left in the carton) and an assortment of whole eggs and egg yolks. There was a lot left over, which I baked in a dish as little crustless quiche bites.

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Mini soda breads (not green).

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Broad bean dip.

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Parsley hummus.

This is a simple food processor dip – a tin of chickpeas, a bunch of parsley, a clove of garlic get whizzed round with a drizzle of sesame oil, then seasoned to taste. To adjust the texture, I added water from the chickpea tin until it was scoopable.

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The soda bread was great with either dip, or with some butter sprinkled with smoked sea salt.

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Ricotta gnocchi with pesto.

I followed this recipe from Delicious Days, for fifteen minute ricotta gnocchi. I kid you not, it was so easy, genuinely taking less than fifteen minutes even though it was the first time I’d tried the recipe. Sometimes a new recipe takes longer because you’re checking it at every step, but not this one. For a start, there aren’t that many steps to check. For another, it really is that simple – mix the ingredients in the bowl, roll out, slice, boil.

I made the dough ahead of time, only leaving the shaping and boiling until just before serving. Even after sitting in the fridge for several hours, it was light and soft when it was cooked, and tasted amazing even on its own. To serve, I mixed with a drizzle of olive oil and a huge mound of fresh pesto.

If you haven’t made pesto before, I’d say it’s time to give it a try. Another food processor classic; I started with a handful of hazelnuts and two garlic cloves, which I whizzed up until the nuts were finely chopped. Then I added two basil plants and some pecorino, followed by enough olive oil to make a smooth paste. Season with salt and pepper and we’re done!

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Lime-oncello (disappointingly not green).

This was the same method as my successful limoncello, but with lime rind instead of lemon, and more sugar syrup to balance the more bitter taste. It didn’t turn out nearly as green as I’d hoped, as you can see!

We also made an as-yet un-named and unperfected cocktail. It contained lime-oncello, vodka, gin, simple syrup, fresh kiwi juice and a squeeze of lime. We had it both short and topped up with soda, and it was pretty awesome either way.

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I also made these non-green bonus marshmallow pies. Now, the trouble with these is that they were born of a total recipe failure. I tried to make green tea marshmallows using veggie gelatin, and oh boy, did that not work… So I used the resulting gooey, sticky not-marshmallow (which was liquid at room temperature) to fill little pate sucree shells, using the recipe from these jam tarts. This is my go-to sweet pastry, it works perfectly every times. I baked the tarts up, keeping an eye out for the not-marshmallow burning, and ended up with these lovely little things, which were a bit crispy on the top and chewy in the middle. And no longer even a tiny bit green.

Can’t win ‘em all, right?


Repost: Orange Mug


As you read this post, imagine me sipping hot chocolate from this mug as I ponder my latest plot point or character development. In truth, while you are reading this I am more likely to be at work, by which I mean the work I get paid to do, but it is a much nicer idea that I could be sipping a comforting beverage and working my wordsmith magic…

 

I’ve been having trouble coming up with a good adjective for the mug. At first I went with dopey, because he does look a bit dopey (yes, it’s a he). On reflection, that sounded like it was a Disney mug, in the shape of one of the dwarves, and that was misleading. I considered drunk mug, too, but that was more of an insult than anything else; ‘here you, ya drunk mug!’. I saved the photo as ‘Happy Mug’, and he does look happy, albeit in a drunk or ‘has just taken a knock to the head’ way. He is being sold in Morrisons as a Hallowe’en mug, alongside a witch mug and a Frankenstein’s monster mug, but what I really like about him is that, to me, he’s suitable all year round. October doesn’t have a monopoly on the colour orange, though it might like to think so.

 

The month October is neither he nor she, you may be glad to note, although if it came to it I could probably give it a gender. When I was little, I had building blocks with numbers on them, and I vividly remember assigning them genders and personalities. I didn’t really like three. He was green, and a bit snooty. I wouldn’t like you to think I was a child with rigid gender boundaries, though; as I was explaining to some of my colleagues this week, I went through a phase of being Peter Pan, and only answering to Peter. I’m not sure how I felt about Pete. I do remember that I had a sword made out of a Weetabix box, that my sister made me. The sword, not the Weetabix box. I’m not sure why I wanted to be Peter Pan so much. I don’t think it could have been as complex as feeling the pressures of ageing and wishing that I could stay young forever – I can’t have been more than four when this was going on. Probably I mostly liked the idea of being able to fly and waging war on Captain Hook.

 

Here is the mug in question – do you see what I mean? How should this facial expression be interpreted? I like to think that I am usually good at all the empathy and that, but he is posing me a problem. Maybe I’m howling up the wrong canyon altogether and he’s actually very sad, and trying to but a brave face on, despite his trembling lip? And what should be made of his mismatched eyes? Perhaps we will never know. I choose to believe that he is happy and just a little dazed from too much being picked up and put down, not to mention being filled with near-boiling liquid day after day.Whatever emotions his face is meant to communicate, he makes me smile, and so is a Thing of Beauty to me. I mean to look after him well, though I will be continuing to fill him with near-boiling liquid. If he gets sadder looking I’ll stop though, I guarantee it.

The orange mug had his first outing yesterday, when I came in from work soaked through. The rain has started in earnest here in Glasgow, and not only were my trainers and socks soaked through to the skin, the rain was so heavy that my wool coat was soaked through at the shoulders and the top I was wearing underneath was damp. I must get winter shoes – have been on the lookout for the ultimate pair of wellies for under £20, but it’s now becoming a mission of greater importance than I first thought. If this winter is going to be like last year, I’ll also need something that will grip to the ice rink surface that many of the pavements are going to take on as their winter look. Last year I wore my trainers all winter. It’s a miracle I didn’t lose any toes.

On coming home in that drowned rat kind of state, my first instinct was to get into dry clothes, which I did with much speed and much standing on of wet trouser cuffs, to general yelps of discomfort. The second was to have a lovely mug of hot chocolate. A couple of weeks ago, I stocked up on Options hot chocolate sachets, thinking that they would help to get me through chocolate cravings and stop me from buying snacks. I know that this theory is sound, as I have tested it before. Unfortunately, I haven’t quite implemented the ‘stop buying snacks’ part of the plan as yet. Also, I bought a bag of marshmallows to go with the hot chocolate sachets, negating their low fat-ness in one fell swoop. It’s unfortunate that the phrase ‘it’s the thought that counts’ doesn’t apply to dieting. I was glad of both the hot chocolate and the marshmallows yesterday, though, and got the kettle on to boil. I put a chocolate fudge sachet in the mug and added a dash of soy milk, then stirred to make a smooth paste. This usually helps to stop the chocolate being gritty at all, or leaving any in the bottom of the mug. I topped it up with more milk, then filled almost to the brim with water, leaving space for six (yes, six) mallows in the top. It hit the spot, I can tell you. I was missing the skooshy cream, but that really would have made a mockery of buying low-fat hot chocolate in the first place.

 

That and the fact that I didn’t think about it when I was in the supermarket.

 

 

 


Wudon Restaurant, Glasgow – and Guest Bloggers Wanted!


Let’s start with that second part, shall we?

I’m taking part in NaNoWriMo this year. The first rule of NaNoWriMo is: you *do* talk about NaNoWriMo. So here I am, announcing my intention to write a novel in just one month, which will of course propel me to international literary stardom. The idea is that you write every day in November, averaging 1666 words (or more) until, at the end of the month, you have a 50,000 word novel (or longer). I am committed to it and excited about it, while still feeling all the usual (close your eyes, mum) I’m-not-good-enough bullshit. I am good enough. I love to write. I want to write more. I want to write so well that people will actually pay me to write, and I never have to go into the office again. Sorry colleagues. I do love you, but you know exactly what I’m talking about. You guys play the lottery every week, we all know it’s not for the thrill of the gamble…

So, that’s it out in the open. I have booked the last week in November off work to create myself a little writer’s retreat in my flat while I finish up the novel, which is currently only a shadowy idea in my brain. It’s been lingering there for a while, this idea. There’s a character. She’s pretty awesome. That’s all I have to say about her for now, but hopefully one day you will be able to read all about her in hardback, paperback or e-reader format. I may as well dream big. I may as well believe that I can do it. I may as well launch myself into it absolutely; heart, soul and typing fingers. I am IN LIKE FLYNN but less seedy and I’ll never play Robin Hood. Probably.

NaNoWriMo will be taking up all my creative energies in the month of November, so I thought I’d shout out and see if anyone fancied helping a sister out and giving me a guest post. I’d like to keep it food based but otherwise it’s up to you what you’d like to do. You see the social media buttons to the right, there? Click one to get in touch with me – preferably the email one, but I’m wired for sound on Twitter and Facebook too. Shoot me a line and we can work something out. It will mean a lot to me to be able to continue providing fresh content even while my brain is engaged elsewhere. Thank you, in advance, for helping me do this.

A barman recently asked me, as I purchased some beers from him, ‘Are you a writer?’.  All I could think to say was ‘I’m a blogger,’ and then I felt like a yuppie ass. Next time, I’ll be able to say ‘Why, yes, you must have seen my interview in The Guardian…’.

 

Now that’s over, I’d lie to share just a few photos from a recent dinner I had with the magical Amy from Wicked Good Travel. Amy recently moved to Glasgow and we’ve been rocking it out, food blogger style. We went to see a David Bowie tribute act together a couple of weeks ago. It was a legendary night. Anyway, on a separate occasion we went out to dinner, to Wudon noodle and sushi bar in the West End of Glasgow. I’d been eyeing up the menu for a while so it was good to finally get my act in gear and try the place out. Let me guide you through my own culinary choices for the evening…

 

 

We started with some edamame, and I ordered a Cucumber Saketini. I’d been looking forward to it a lot since spying it on the menu. It was refreshing, as promised, and ideal for someone who doesn’t have a very sweet tooth when it comes to drinks. I did find it a little plain, perhaps only when combined with the super-salty edamame, but enjoyed sipping my way through it. Next time I’ll go for something sweeter to feed that sugar addiction.

I then proceeded to order enough food to feed a small nation. Sometimes I get carried away… My order was:

 

 

Jing salmon – steamed salmon with ginger, spring onion and soy. The salmon flaked apart into well-seasoned chunks, as you can see in the photo, and was deliciously soft. I would suggest (despite feeling like I should only say positive things) that it was a little over-steamed? I wolfed the lot, nonetheless.

 

 

Ap Soong. This is finely chopped duck, carrot, spring onion and rice noodles, beautifully flavoured with some mystical combination that probably contains soy, garlic and ginger and at least one secret ingredient. It was delicious. It’s served with iceberg lettuce so you can wrap the duck up into crunchy parcels, which I did make a bit of a mess of but man, they were excellent. This was my favourite part of the meal. I also ordered some wok-fried ramen, which you can see at the back of this photo. They were dressed with (I think) soy and sesame oil, and had shredded seaweed perched on top for a wee extra something. I did take a photo of them separately but given that I was pressing my phone into service instead of using a real camera, that was just one of the photos that didn’t make it.

 

We also ordered some sushi to share, and went for Spicy Uramaki, which is samon rolled in sushi rice, then rolled in shredded seaweed, and topped with black fish roe and spicy kimchi sauce. This was too exotic not to try, as far as I was concerned.

 

 

Don’t you love their crockery, too? There was heavy temptation to slip some in my generously sized handbag, but you will be glad to hear I resisted. The sushi was good, I particularly liked the shredded seaweed instead of the usual nori sheets, and the spicy sauce was a real sinus-tingler, especially when you combine it with wasabi as we both unashamedly did. I think I can say, though, that black roe isn’t my favourite thing. Next time I’ll try the Japanese Rose, or maybe the Asparagus Tempura sushi, or maybe the Caterpillar sushi (does not contain real caterpillar).

The menu at Wudon is huge, with lots of separate sections to check out, so I can recommend a bit of research online before you go. And go you should – alright, I had a couple of nits to pick with my meal, but they were pretty minor. The service is friendly and not at all pushy, the restaurant is spacious, there is a lot of food to choose from – give it a try!

 


Blueberry Gin Cordial


I recently bought myself a sweet little book of liqueur recipes – it’s called Home Made Liqueurs and you can get a copy on Amazon. It promises recipes for liqueurs, ratafias, cordials, shrubs, brandies, gins and whiskies – I’d never ever heard of some of those things so I was excited about finding out more. It’s more of a booklet than a book; the cover is new but inside, the recipes are pure vintage. They say things like ‘Have ready some wide-mouthed glass bottles, and half-fill them with sound, ripe damsons…’. The language is just a little archaic, hinting of a time gone by when people made their own cordials and played croquet on the lawn.

In case you are wondering, a ratafia just seems to be another word for ‘liqueur’ and a shrub is  rum or brandy-based drink. Not as exotic as it sounds, but this won’t stop me making them and insisting they be called by their proper name. Some of the recipes that really stand out include Athole Brose, Four Fruit Ratafia and Greengage Shrub – you may be beginning to see why I bought myself this book.

I started off by making a blueberry cordial, which starts out with blueberries, sugar and gin. I chose Morrison’s Finest gin, as I’ve done before, because I think it’s better than some brand names that I could mention but it’s also cheaper than your high-end, boutique products. When you’re adding fruit and sugar to the alcohol the flavour doesn’t need to be refined, but it does need to be good enough that you wouldn’t mind sipping it. If it’s too rough in the first place, there will always be an unpleasant undertaste to the finished product. Words of wisdom, there.

 

 

So, I split the given amount of blueberries and sugar between three jars, and topped up with a bottle of gin. The only difficult part of the process is having the patience to wait six weeks before you drink the end result. I made it easier on myself by clearing a little space under the sink, in the dark and cool, where I could stash the jars while they did their thing and not taunt myself by having to look at them every day. The colour of the fruit started to leach into the gin after only one day, giving it a beautiful violet colour that was stupidly hard to capture on camera.

 

 

I was supposed to leave the liqueur to infuse for two months – I cut it off after six weeks, so that I could take it to Doune with me. I strained the fruit out of the gin (saving it for future, to be revealed use) then added about a cup of lemonade and two cups of simple syrup to the end result. Simple syrup is equal volumes of water and sugar, heated until the sugar dissolves – it’s called ‘simple’ for a reason.

After six weeks, the colour is amazingly rich, a deep mulberry colour:

 

 

I embraced the DIY nature of flavouring my own liqueur by using a couple of good jars and then one that used to contain hotdogs. It’s what I had to hand… I’ve been saving glass jars recently for this very reason; jars are easier to add all the ingredients to, and to remove them from again at the end. I’ve been keeping bottles, too, for the finished results. I’d really love some of those gorgeous sloe gin, flask style bottles, but it seems crazy not to recycle ones I’ve already emptied at home. Plus it removes the need to go to the bottle bank with bags clinking, feeling the need to exclaim ‘this is a month’s worth!’ to anyone who passes.

A rough recipe for Blueberry Cordial, then, as inspired by the original in Home Made Liqueurs:

  • 400g blueberries
  • 200g granulated sugar
  • 700ml gin
  • 1 cup lemonade
  • 2 cups simple syrup

Put the blueberries and sugar in a wide-mouthed bottle or jar, or spit between a few smaller jars.

Pour over the gin, seal the bottles or jars and shake well to dissolve the sugar.

Leave for six to eight weeks.

Strain and add lemonade and syrup. Mix well.

Drink while sitting in Tent City and enjoying a raucous singalong.

 


Home Grown Mint Tea


My parents have a super garden behind their house. They’ve worked really hard to make it a beautiful, peaceful place to spend time, and it is rather smashing, I must say. There is even a pond which is home to an indeterminate number of fish and an extremely photogenic frog.  Check it:

 

 

They also grow fruit, veg and herbs including (but not limited to) apples, courgettes, cucumbers, carrots, potatoes, rhubarb, strawberries, tomatoes, lettuce, lemon thyme, parsley and mint. In moderate quantities, you realise, they don’t actually live on a farm. On a recent visit, they asked if I’d like to bring home some mint, given that they had an absurd amount that was threatening to take over quite a lot of the garden, so I cut myself a handful of stems to bring home and dry, as a bit of an experiment. Here it is in its natural habitat, before I got my hands on it:

 

 

My previous attempts at preserving herbs have been hit and miss. I have dried rosemary and thyme completely by accident, by having them in the fridge and forgetting about them until they are shadows of their former selves. That’s worked out really well, because it means no waste but also no effort whatsoever. Then there’s the leafier herbs, which cause me more trouble. They go soggy and slimy in the fridge if you forget about them, and they go wilty and pathetic on the counter. I read somewhere that you can keep them in water, like cut flowers. I tried that. This is what happened:

 

 

One swamp-in-a-jar, no waiting. You can’t really see the swamp that clearly here, which is a blessing and should be counted as such. Don’t know what I did wrong, but it was definitely SOMETHING.

Luckily, drying the mint was really easy – I made sure it was clean, wiping away any mud with an only slightly damp paper towel, then I bound the stems together with an elastic band and hung the bouquet upside down in my kitchen, so that it was suspended away from any surfaces. I left it for ten days and there it was – dried mint. It goes much darker in colour, and looks a lot more eldritch with its stems pointing every which way, and the leaves all curled in on themselves (and each other). I suppose I wouldn’t look too great myself if you left me hanging upside down without any food or water for ten days.

 

 

During the ten days of drying, I realised that this was the ideal time to make myself mint tea, with mint from the garden. I hopped on eBay and picked up some empty tea bags, which I’m definitely over-excited about having. Here they are – they open at the top, and when you’ve filled them you pull a little drawstring to close them up, so you don’t get a cup full of loose tea leaves or bits of herb or whatever you’ve filled the bags with.

 

 

I stripped the leaves off the mint stems and lightly crushed them – if you go too far, you’ll end up with powder that you can’t scrape up off the surface to get into the tea bags – then broke the stems into little pieces and added those to the pile, too. The smell of the mint is lovely, more subtle than from the fresh leaves, as you’d imagine, and very refreshing for the sinuses.

 

 

I divided the mint between six teabags, though I probably could have managed about ten if I had been a bit more conservative in filling them. Not a bag yield for five or six stems of mint. The resulting tea is great! It’s fresh, not too strong, with a wonderful scent and a subtle green colour. As it turns out, it’s really difficult to photograph a cup of mint tea with your camera phone, but here is a decent shot of the bag beginning to infuse – I love how you can see all the leaves and bits of stem.

 

 

While I was about it, I also decanted some loose tea that I had in the cupboard into tea bags, so I could tae it into work and enjoy it every day instead of just on special occasions. By ‘special occasions’ I mean ‘times when I remember I have lovely loose leaf tea in the cupboard and get out the teapot or tea strainer so I can drink it’. The two kinds I had were a blue flower Earl Grey, which was in my first Foodie Penpals parcel, and a rose, hibiscus and pomegranate tea that the ever-generous Lucy from Offally Good sent me a while back when I was feeling a bit poorly. Both are a pleasure to drink, different from your bog standard tea and will be perfect to keep in the office for mid-afternoon treats.

I found it useful to have a funnel to fill the teabags – a wide icing nozzle was the perfect tool. Here are a few photos of my Evening of Tea.

Rose, Hibiscus, Pomegranate Tea

The most fun part about making my own teabags was getting out my icing pens and writing right on the bags themselves. I wrote what kind of tea each one was, but I also added a wee kiss to a lot of the bags, and some smiley faces on the mint ones. They’re like tiny love notes from myself to myself. I won’t start all that quantum chat again, but it’ll be nice, one day in the future, to take out a tea bag and look at the happy face on it and smile back. And then plunge it into boiling water. Oh.


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