Gratin dauphinoise

Gratin dauphinoise is a sinfully good, classic French dish that I wish I could eat everyday. Unfortunately my hips would never forgive such indulgence so this dish is reserved for high days and holidays only. Oh, and those days when you realise you ‘accidentally’ bought too much cream and need a way to use it up. I can’t only be me who does that, right?

As with many classic dishes simplicity is key; you could tart your gratin up with cheese, onions or bacon but I honestly don’t think that’s necessary. No, a gratin dauphinoise is beautiful in its plainness. It’s the little black dress of side dishes – one that every home cook should have in their repertoire. It’s the perfect side to slow-roast lamb or confit duck but can also play first fiddle alongside a crisp salad or ratatouille. If you have any leftovers – which is highly unlikely – it’s pretty darn good cold the next day, perhaps topped with a poached egg or sliced tomatoes.

A long, slow bake in a low oven guarantees beautifully tender potatoes that have soaked up an obscene amount of cream and absorbed the delicate flavours of garlic and thyme. The top layer of slices curl in the heat, their wafer-thin edges become crisp and golden providing a contrasting texture to the soft underside. Ooof, I’m making myself hungry just thinking about it.

Gratin dauphinoise

Serves 6–8

• 1kg potatoes (about 3 large)
• 1 clove garlic
• 30g butter
• a few sprigs of fresh thyme
• 300ml double cream
• 300ml full-cream milk
• salt and pepper

Peel the potatoes and slice as thinly as possible. I cut mine by hand with a sharp knife but a mandolin would be handy.

Crush the garlic and rub over a 20 x 30cm oven proof dish. Smear half of the butter in the dish.

Layer a third of the potato slices in the dish. Sprinkle over a little thyme, salt and pepper. Repeat with the rest of the potatoes.

Warm the cream and milk until just starting to steam – don’t let it boil. Pour over the potatoes.

Dot the top of the gratin with the remaining butter and sprinkle with thyme. Bake at 160°C for and hour and a half until the potatoes are tender and the top is golden.

Cherry tiramisù

On a recent trip to Rome we rented an apartment just outside of the historic centre and a stone’s throw away from the famed Bar Pompi, renowned for its tiramisù. The classic Italian dessert comes in a variety of sizes from dinky single-serving boxes to giant take-away slabs for dinner parties. Their excellent tiramisù also comes in all manner of flavours: there’s the classic coffee, nutella, chocolate and banana, pistachio, strawberry, forest fruits and this summer’s limited edition piña colada! I didn’t happen to see a cherry version but I’m certain it’s been done before. Inspired by the delicious Italian amarena ice cream and all the fresh cherries appearing in the shops I decided that it was time to make a tribute to Bar Pompi.

Mezze with spicy lamb hummus

I’m very partial to meals made up of lots of little dishes that everybody shares; tapas, mezze and antipasti all make me a happy girl. I suppose these kind of buffets are a foodie’s dream since you get to try a little bit of everything rather than mooning over your dinner companions’ plates wishing you’d ordered what they had. Dinner envy: it’s a terrible thing. But you can create an impressive spread with just a little effort, especially if you supplement it with a few ready-made options like cheese and chutney, deli meats and olives.

Honey, black pepper and walnut bread

Can you tell I’ve been on a bread-making kick since my course with Emma? Every weekend I’ve been baking something new and sitting on my bedside table is Elizabeth David’s English Bread and Yeast Cookery with tags sticking out left, right and centre. And despite flagging up so many recipes to try; last weekend I went ahead and made a loaf without following a recipe, just using my “bakers instinct”. It actually turned out really well, I’m so pleased I made a note of the ingredients as I went because I know I’m going to be making this again. It is superb with cheese and wine, alongside a salad or simply smeared with a little butter and devoured.

Cinnamon kringle

I expect a lot of people will have already seen recipes for this fabulous Estonian bread doing the rounds on the net. I first came across it on Pinterest and found the recipe on Romanian cooking blog Just Loves Cookin which has a great step-by-step photo guide on shaping . It’s such a pretty loaf that I couldn’t wait long before trying to make my own. As you can see from the pics, I need a little more practice shaping the ring but I’m still quite pleased with the result. The taste is, unsurprisingly, as good as any cinnamon roll – rich, buttery and caramelised. The layers you create by rolling the dough fan out as they bake and turn into crunchy, dark golden ridges hiding soft, sweet bread rippled with spice.

Celeriac and beetroot slaw

In preparation for this new year’s crops I’ve been clearing out the last of the over-wintered veggies from my garden. The rabbits made short work of the fuzzy leaves on the winter radishes while I dug up my two remaining celeriac which were decidedly puny but packed full of flavour. There are still plenty of lovely roots in the grocers while we wait for spring’s first asparagus, peas and greens and my cole-less slaw makes the most of their earthy sweetness. It also happens to look pretty vibrant and cheery on the dinner table with its tangle of white celeriac, orange carrots and bright pink beetroot.

Apricot and ratafia cake

Hmm, for a blog with cake in the title it feels like it’s been a while since I posted a cake recipe. It’s been a whole seven weeks since the Portuguese orange cake and my afternoon mug of tea has been missing its usual partner in crime. I’m nibbling on the last slice of this most recent cake and sipping a giant mug of Yorkshire tea as I write and trying in vain not to get too many crumbs over the desk, the keyboard and myself. It’s not a massively crumbly cake, the moist apricots help hold things together but I’m genetically destined to be a messy eater, just ask my mother. As a child I had cake crumbs in my tummy button more often than not.