Sometimes Fresh Rosemary is all You Need
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