It was a complete day of incomplete somethings

I have days in my life where I wake up into a graveyard for ideas; granted, the realisation of this won't come to me until I lower my head onto my pillow at night, closing the loop and consigning the previous 24 hours to the amorphous "past". No, the mornings be peppered with signs of promise that can only be portents of productivity and nourishment. The coffee will be brewed just right, the butter to toast ratio will be spot on and I'll do that specific exhalation that people do (usually surrounded by chic, minimalist interior design) that tells

the world that this is how mornings should be.

Brandi's doing well (thanks to FOTB Bee)

Well, I'm a plucky young lad and the signs were mixed. Getting the cafetiere fired up seemed like too much hassle, and it turned out that we didn't have any butter at all to great the slices of wholemeal bread, growing ever browner. However, I did notice that the Amaryllis bulb that the Notorious F.O.T.B Bee recently gifted to me had opened up it's rangy petals in a manner deliciously reminiscent of the strawberry & yoghurt bicoloured swirl of the now-archaic Campino candies. Clearly, the flower had opened itself up to new possibilities and, I suppose, the vain hope of pollination. By the way, I've christened it the honourable name "Brandi".

I allocated myself an hour and a half to clean up the kitchen from yesterday's evening meal of mung bean and savoy cabbage soup, and play some more of Final Fantasy X; a conscious effort to ingrain the virtues of non-productive fun during the hours of daylight. My plan was then to make myself some easily-packaged, non-elaborate pasta and head off with a very general inclination of seeing the area of the Shad Thames. To burnish my walk, I downloaded four episodes from podcasts I hadn't heard before to listen to on my way (I'll detail these in the notes!)

The scene of the "rained on pasta"

So, pasta made and podcasts downloaded, I set off. One thing about me that can be quite evident is my indecision, so choosing the podcast episodes to download took a not insignificant amount of time sprawled on my sofa, thinking "huh, they all sound good but there's only so much ear-time in one day". As a result, it was pretty much lunchtime by the time I had crossed over to the outside world. Not a problem, I'd sit on one of the (imitation?) marble slabs that passed for benches by the river, just five minutes away from my flat.

Unfortuitous rain is basically a nationwide running gag in the British canon of self-deprecating humour, rivaling even Brexit in it's absurdity. It seemed that my body making contact with the bench triggered some form of freak meteorological event which brought large quantities of condensation hurtling downwards. Obviously the reasonable thing to do here would be to put the lunchbox away and seek cover. I'm sure that went through my mind, but it was soon overtaken by a kind of irrational indignancy that drove me to sit there and become increasingly more saturated as I ate my pasta. The peculiarity of such a scene to any passers-by is not lost on me by any means.

When I had at last retreated into a somewhat more productive mindset, I thought that perhaps my plans could benefit from some alterations. Remembering that Canada Water has a library (with a bracingly modernist exterior) that I'd neglected in my almost one year of living here, I thought I'd head here and nestle into a desk with some cookbooks, a notebook given to my for my birthday by FOTB Keith and write down some recipes. When I arrived at the library it just so happened that every desk was taken by someone who was most likely doing something more important than what I had planned. This was no issue, as I made my work station out of a single chair and a surprisingly comfortable balancing act with my legs.

I worked my way through the Cook For Syria recipe book, pen in hand (you may potentially see some of the recipes soon), and I remembered just how long it had been since I had manually wrote anything at this length. Cookbooks can be incredibly life-affirming to me and coming across the sincerity that others have expressed in their food writing is basically the entire reason this blog exists. Then the practical mindset comes in with it's oh-so familiar veil of gloom. Money seems to pervade everything in this life, and this was by no means immune. Thoughts of "you can't afford to make this" really do put a damper on an otherwise fuzzy library research trip. Sidenote: is this what people mean when they talk about the left and the right sides of the brain?

Dejected, I stalked home through the cotton-grey mizzle and crawled into bed, dejected enough to scorn the usual escapist retreats of reading or gaming (note: this is always a mistake). To risk sounding like a proponent o'flimflam, I am certain that my body has a visceral chemical reaction to napping and I tend to avoid it at all costs. I used to work full-time in a supermarket where the shifts would start at 5am; still, I would not willingly rest my head to pillow, lest I wake up to an ungodly fugue somehow outside of the regular parameters of time.

To say that the evening brought a saviour would be an understatement. Once the clock reaches about 6pm, we discard all of our notions of what a day "should" be and retreat into what we have been told is an animalistic state of want-fulfilling (also known as "actually paying heed to our needs"). So, housemates-of-the-blog Owen, Rebecca and I had an eminently pleasant evening of things that were not "somethings", but simply because they were not required to be. These included Final Fantasy VIII (two Final Fantasy games in one day? a formula for greatness), soda that came in audaciously artificial hues and HOTB Rebecca's sensuous-moan inducing ginger cake with rose icing. It was satisfaction that I didn't need to ask for.

I didn't take any pictures in the cooking process for the aforementioned pasta I made, simply because I didn't expect to be writing about it. It's straightforward, flavourful, and probably devoid of any useful nutrition. But you will enjoy eating it, I promise. The quantities specified are all very loose, so just take it as a rough guide and do what feels right to you!

Penne with Soy & Red Pepper Flakes

Prep time: 5 minutes

Cooking time: 20 minutes

Serves: 2 people

Ingredients

200g of penne pasta

2 cloves of garlic

1-2 tbsp Korean red pepper flakes (depending on your spice tolerance)

1 tbsp soy sauce

1/2 tsp of Chinese five-spice

1 tbsp of olive oil

Salt

Pepper

Sesame seeds (to garnish - optional)

MSG (optional)

Method

Put a saucepan of water on to boil, and measure out the penne. As the water comes to the boil, add a small splash of olive oil and a 1/2 tsp of salt. Once the water is on a rolling boil add the pasta, stir and bring to the boil again before turning down to a medium-high heat. Cook for the stated time before draining.

Meanwhile, peel, crush and mince your garlic cloves and set aside.

Once the pasta is drained, heat the olive oil in saucepan or a wok over a medium-high heat. Once this has warmed, add the garlic and the red pepper flakes and stir in for about 30 seconds. The oil should begin to take on the crimson colour of the red pepper.

Tumble the pasta into the pan, and stir it through until coated with the infused oil. Add the soy sauce, the Chinese five-spice and the MSG (if using) and stir until fully combined. Season with salt and pepper to your tastes and heat through for a couple of minutes before decanting to a bowl or a lunchbox. Finally, sprinkle with sesame seeds and serve (or cool!)

Notes & Adjustments

• It isn't essential that you use Korean red pepper flakes, but I find that these are the best for imparting flavour. I don't recommend that you buy them specifically for making this however. Aleppo pepper flakes would also work fantastically here and you can buy them in smaller quantities. If you can't find these, you could also use Arbol chilli flakes or regular crushed chillis. If you do use these, I would suggest only using half a tablespoon as these will be hotter.

• Of course, feel free to use any pasta you want here! I find penne to be a great lunchbox pasta, but do use whatever you have.

Okay, so now I'm gonna detail the podcast episodes I downloaded:

• Firstly, I downloaded an episode of Mom Rage where they interview Molly Wizenberg (of the podcast Spilled Milk that I occasionally mention) and her partner Ash Choi about functioning within what they term as a "modern, queer family".

• An episode of Beach Too Sandy, Water Too Wet in which the hosts do dramatic renditions of Google reviews left on various Tesco stores in-and-around Dublin.

• An episode of Spectacular Failures which talked about a downfall of Christian theme park in the US.

• An episode I haven't yet listened to of 99% Invisible about the pigment Vantablack (I'm very excited for this one).

• I also downloaded an episode of Let's Go To Court, one of my most-loved true crime podcasts, where they interviewed Toby Dorr. I'd already heard her being interviewed by the indomitable Phoebe Judge of Criminal, and it was beyond exciting to hear this episode. Greatly recommended.

That's all of my shout-outs for now! Until next podcast-downloading frenzy, I guess.

"the honey spread itself so thin"

I don't think a blog post ever goes by without me bringing up the fact that prepared food usually doesn't come without some kind of context. Perhaps it stopped being a novel point around, say, my first post about sriracha cauliflower? Even so, it continues to be relevant. As consumers, we don't witness every facet of the provenance of a food source; however, when we take on the mantle of the home cook or baker, that's when we begin to cast the result in the forge of our own circumstance.

Let me introduce to you the (pretty mundane, honestly) story of the Bran & Jam Muffins I bring to you today. We all know wheat bran as something that's pretty ubiquitous in baked goods; maybe this is more of an American phenomenon, but I think it's still commonly found over here in the UK. Despite this, it's kind of awkward to buy. Supermarkets don't commonly stock it (unless I'm incredibly oblivious), and I found the best place to buy it was Holland & Barrett in a 750g bag (find it here or in store). Now, the texture of wheat bran is feathery to the point where it could probably flutter away if a light breeze were to blow on by. The resulting 750g bag was the size of my (medium sized (?)) torso.

The story doesn't end here, people. I bought this hulking yet slight sack o' bran (tragically, it was not a burlap sack) while visiting my parents, with the intention of making bran muffins back at my place; I'd heard that flatmate-of-the-blog Rebecca was a fan o'bran. Predictably, I FORGOT to take them on the train back home with me, so I had to buy another sack back in London. Are you keeping count? This is a cumulative total of 1.5 kg of wheat bran, bi-located by approximately 30 miles. You may now remember that I already have a recipe involving bran; you may now also be understanding why this is.

That's the tale of abundance, now for the probably-less-jovial-but-y'know-it's-honest story of the dearth. Checking my bank account this morning, I found that I had not exactly enough money to get me through the month. Proceeding to the shower, that dispenser of pessimism and gloom, I was mired with thoughts that I would have to put this blog on an indefinite hiatus and that I couldn't possibly continue. Then, I sat down and applied for a couple of jobs. This isn't an activity well-suited to positivity, but it did give me a small hint that this situation may just be temporary. I'm still not totally sure about how to navigate managing a blog and having very little surplus money, but I still have to eat, right? That means I still have to cook.

Equipped with the attitude of adaptation, my mind drifted to the sizable and yet unopened bag of bran sitting in my bedroom (did I forget to mention that I'm staying with my parents for a week?). I could use this to make something. Here, I need to state that I am very lucky to have parents who will go out and say that I can use pretty much whatever they have in the kitchen. As much as I can talk about personally being short on funds and I can't ask them to support me in more substantial ways, it's not as if I'm completely without resources. Many thanks go out to my parents' kitchen here, and I promise to save them at least a couple of muffins.

Another debate I want to thrash out here briefly is the question of what constitutes a breakfast muffin? As this article from Thrillist attests, there exists a vociferous anti-muffin-for-breakfast lobby that is primed and ready to scorn your choices. Sure, it's not the healthiest choice you could make, but they hail from the same fast-breaking canon that pancakes with syrup and bacon arose from. I'm not even going to get started on the (frankly, delicious but unrelated) McMuffin. What I will say, however, with a not-insubstantial heft of indignant zest, is that this muffin can be a breakfast if you want it to be. You could even have a protein shake on the side, if you really have to. I'm daren't sanction that notion with a recipe though.

Bran & Jam Muffins

Preparation time: 25 minutes.

Cooking time: 18-20 minutes.

Makes 6 muffins.

Ingredients

50g of wheat bran

150g of plain flour

80g of softened, unsalted butter

75g of caster sugar

1 egg

250 ml of milk

1/2 tsp of salt

1 1/2 tsp of cinnamon

1/8 tsp of ground cloves

1 tsp of bicarbonate of soda

3 tsp of jam (of your choosing)

Topping

2 tsp of oats

1/2 tsp of sugar

1/2 tsp of cinnamon

Method

Preheat the oven to 180 degrees.

Cut the butter into small chunks and add it into a bowl, along with the sugar. Cream the mixture until pale but not yet aerated.

Add in the egg and combine. When this has been mixed together, add in the milk and combine once again. Do be warned that it will look hideous at this stage, but do not be discouraged!

Add in the flour, bran, salt, spices and bicarbonate of soda and stir until combined. Don't over-mix here as this will cause too much air to be introduced to the mixture which may result in a muffin deflation in the cooling stage.

In a small bowl, mix together the oats, sugar and cinnamon for the topping and set aside.

Line a muffin tray with cases and start spooning the mixture into each. To begin with, you want the mixture to go about 1/3 of the way up the case in order to make room for the jam and the rest of the mixture.

For every muffin, nestle 1/2 a tsp of jam in the centre. Take care to ensure that the jam doesn't touch the side of the muffins to prevent leakage.

When every muffin has been allocated a portion of jam, add more of the muffin mixture to each case. You want it to be just enough to sufficiently cover the jam. Sprinkle this with the sugar-cinnamon-oat mixture and then place in the oven for 18-20 minutes.

Cool in the muffin tin for 5 minutes before transferring to a cooling rack. These are best eaten at room temperature so do try to be patient!

Notes & Adjustments

• I feel very strongly that I shouldn't be prescriptive about the type of jam you use here so I am leaving it in your (strong and capable) hands. I went for strawberry because it was what we had in the house at the time, but ideally I would have liked to try this with a ginger jam. You could even use a marmalade or (perhaps) a curd.

• This is an incredibly non-vegan recipe. However, to make it vegan I would recommend replacing the dairy milk with a non-dairy milk (I think oat would be best, but I will again leave it to you), the egg for half a mashed banana and the butter for a neutral -tasting oil or a vegan butter. Personally, for the last point, I think the "Buttery" plant based spread from Flora is wonderful and would work well, but you'd have to try this yourself!

• If you don't particularly like cinnamon then you won't miss it if it's left out. Thinking of a certain FOTB with this tip (u know who u r).

• I didn't have it to hand when I made this, but I think light brown instead of caster sugar would be better in this recipe and recommend that you use that.

• With regards to the milk, I used one of the shelf-stable semi-skimmed UHT milks for two reasons; it's what we had in the house and I also think it has a (somewhat suspicious yet delicious) creamy taste. I wouldn't advise going out of your way to buy this, but if you have it around then please do use it!

• Most muffin recipes are for 9-12 muffins; mine only makes six, however the quantities can simply be multiplied by 2 depending on how many you wish to make.

As a last note, I took my title from the song "A Sorta Fairytale" by the incomparable Tori Amos. Listen to it here.

... the music video is also beautiful (TW: mild body horror) but I hate the way the song was spliced and truncated for the radio mix.

I'll stop now before I start linking you to all of my favourite live performances (this is where you write in the comments about how much you do want me to do that).

Probably the only time mung beans will ever be controversial

In the interests of transparency, I'm going to openly admit that this is a bit of an abomination. I'm bringing a gently steaming vessel of Peanut Butter Mung Dal to this virtual table of spilled pixels that somehow arranged themselves into words, and it is clear that this is an aberration of some form. I promise to justify my transgressions, but you'll have to be patient as I go through the various motions.

Dal is a wide-reaching term used to describe a number of soups and stews, hailing from the Indian sub-continent, that take some kind of pulse as it's central ingredient. If this is a somewhat vague description, that is by design; the dish is hardly homogeneous. A few years ago I stayed with a host family in the region of Surkhet in Nepal (I will talk about this in more detail sometime in the future) and we would eat dal twice a day. Every new day would bring a new dal, and every new dal would bring a subtle change in flavour or component. Am I trying to set the scene for a peanut butter-based justification? I might just be, forsooth.

Rather less jokingly, cultural appropriation might seem like a roll-your-eyes, modern liberal stock phrase (the term has been circulating for over 40 years), but the practice is evident within the commercialisation of so-called "exotic" food. We denizens of the Global North have historically been quite adept at adopting the dishes we consider the most palatable from the South, producing a simplified facsimile and having that "pass" for an authentic representation of the food of a certain nation or group. Did anyone miss Jamie Oliver's Jollof rice fiasco? As much as we can claim that making these recipes constitutes a multicultural attitude (that phrase can only be described as icky), Vera Kwakofi put it best when she neatly summarised that "in five years his version will become the official one".

So, you understand why I want to preface this so heavily? Not that I believe I have any kind of following comparable to that of Jamie Oliver's, but it does good to be conscious of inauthenticity. I know that this creation would have matriarchs across India and Nepal shaking their heads in incredulity, though maybe some of them might be curious. The traditional dal here served more as a blueprint than an end-goal, although I will concede that the finished product was passably dal-esque.

Just like in the chana masala post, I was aided innumerably by Felicity Cloake's article 'How to cook perfect dal where she summarises and distills much of the contemporary literature surrounding the dish. Of course, she didn't recommend to add peanut butter. Though, question: can you really reach "perfection" in cooking? Food is so context driven, so I'm sure that one dish can't be perfect for every moment and every feeling. A bowl of dal is such a comforter though that if any food was going to be, it would be quite the contender.

This is a slow recipe to cook, but not particularly involved. There is a 90 minute long low-simmer, with that time period free for you to put some rice in the cooker and then fill with whatever soothing activities you wish to take part in. Also, the lack of bean soaking here might seem controversial, but there don't seem to be many food writers that really advocate a long soak. Which is just as well, because I had the idea to make this about two hours before I'd left the office.

To serve on the side, I've also made Nigella Lawson's Turmeric Rice with Cardamom and Cumin from her book At My Table, but adapted it for a rice cooker rather than to be cooked on the stove. Two recipes in one post!

Peanut Butter Mung Dal

Preparation time: 10 minutes

Cooking time: 1 hour and 30 minutes

Serves: 2-3 people

Ingredients

Dal

250g of dried mung beans

1.25l of water

2 tbsp of peanut butter

3 cloves of garlic

2 red chillis

2 cm piece of ginger

1 tbsp of fenugreek seeds

1.5 tsp of ground cumin

1 tsp of paprika

1 tsp of turmeric

Salt to taste

Handful of fresh coriander (optional)

1/4 tsp of mace (optional)

1 small green chilli (optional)

Tarka

1 tbsp of butter

1 tsp of mustard seeds

1/2 tsp of chilli flakes

Method

Put the mung beans into a mesh sieve and rinse until clear.

Crush the garlic and roughly mince. Cut the ginger into flat slices and finely slice the red chilli. Leave the green chilli whole, if using.

Add the fenugreek seeds to a saute pan and warm on a medium heat until they turn a chestnut brown colour. Once they have, transfer to a pestle and mortar or a spice grinder and grind into a coarse powder.

Add the mung beans to a large saucepan and pour in the water. Add the garlic, ginger, red chilli and green chilli (if using) and turn up to a high heat.

When the water has come to a boil, add the ground cumin, paprika, turmeric and mace (if using) and stir through.

Put the lid on the saucepan, but leave it ever-so-slightly ajar so a small amount of steam can escape. Turn down to a medium-low heat and keep simmering for an hour and a half. The extended simmer on a low heat will allow the beans to slowly break down and become creamy. Every now and again, stir the pan through.

When the simmering is about 45 minutes in, begin to prepare the rice (recipe to follow).

When the mung beans have about five minutes of simmering left, melt the butter in a small saucepan on a medium heat. Once the butter has melted, add the mustard seeds and the chilli flakes and infuse them in the butter for three minutes. This will be the tarka that you pour over the dal.

After the butter has been infused with flavour set it aside. Taste the dal and adjust the spices and seasonings as necessary (remember, it will taste richer and fuller flavoured once the tarka is poured over and integrated). Add the peanut butter and stir through until it is integrated with the rest of the mixture. Once you are satisfied, pour the tarka over the dal and mix together until fully combined.

Sprinkle with chopped coriander to taste (if using) and serve with with the turmeric rice or flatbreads (or both!)

Nigella Lawson's Turmeric Rice with Cardamom and Cumin

Preparation time: 5 minutes

Cooking time: 20 minutes (this depends on the rice cooker)

Serves: 2-3 people

Ingredients

200g of basmati rice

1/4 tsp of turmeric

4 cardamom pods

1 tsp of cumin seeds

400ml of water

Salt to taste

Crush each of the cardamom pods slightly to allow them to release their flavour.

Add all of the ingredients into the rice cooker, pour over the water, mix slightly and set it to cook.

When the rice has cooked stir through again, remove the cardamom pods and serve.

Notes & Adjustments

• As stated above, dals can be made with virtually any pulse. Theoretically, this one could be too, but it would drastically change the cooking times and quantities of water based on which pulse was chosen.

• You are probably best using a non-emulsified peanut butter; I used Meridian here. This will just make it easier to integrate the peanut butter into the dal.

• If you prefer the dal to be a bit milder in terms of spice, de-seed the chillis.

Just a quick note going forward to say that this upcoming month is going to be pretty challenging for me. I'm facing some not insignificant financial anxieties as well as being busy with things like applying for jobs and a PhD (yes, I'm very excited; yes I'm incredibly stressed). I really want to keep going with this blog, despite not having very many readers and will continue to nourish it the best I can. That said, doing this does take a lot of time, and it does often take money. It may be that my posts become somewhat more infrequent for the foreseeable future, but if I enact some form of hiatus then I will write here to notify!

Until next time,

Ashe x