In week 8 of the Leiths Confident Cooking course we deboned wood pigeon and made strudel from scratch.

Apple strudel

I really enjoyed this class. It never occurred to me that we would be making the filo pastry for the apple strudel from scratch. Nor that making filo would be so much fun. Who knew?

The ingredients for filo were simple: plain flour, salt, egg, water and oil. We mixed the ingredients to make a soft dough and then had to whack it repeatedly to strengthen the proteins and make it elastic. This was awesome stress release as we could be quite vigorous and there’s really no chance of overdoing it, although occasionally the pastry flew off and hit the floor. The instructors implemented a ‘five-second rule’ to ensure the dough was not wasted.

It reached the right consistency when we could pull the dough like a long elastic band without it snapping. We then put it aside while we prepared the filling - apple, currants, sultanas, raisins, brown sugar, cinnamon, ground cloves, browned breadcrumbs, lemon zest and juice.

After 15 minutes we each rolled our pastry out flat with a rolling pin, before easing our fingers underneath and dancing them around to stretch the dough until it until it was paper thin. I’ve seen pizza makers do something similar with pizza dough but this is much thinner. We worked in pairs for this last bit as we ended up with more than a square foot of pastry. The result was thin, large sheet of filo. We trimmed the edges, brushed it with melted butter and then put the filling. Then we rolled it up using the same method as for the roulade or sushi.

It’s possible to do individual servings but as I was making one big strudel, I followed the suggestion to arrange the strudel in a traditional horseshoe shape. Then the strudel baked it in the oven for 40 minutes until golden brown. The result was mind-bogglingly good - it would have been even better with some ice cream or crème anglaise but it was great on its own.

NB This post is labelled vegetarian for the strudel - the next dish is meat based.

Wood pigeon and black pudding salad

I wouldn’t dream of eating one of those dirty pigeons from Trafalgar Square but these little birds are quite a different beast altogether. This was partly a lesson in knife skills - the birds came whole and we learnt how to slice off the breast. Our instructor commented that this would be useful if any of us have friends with husbands who shoot - although a much bigger bird, you can apparently deal with a pheasant the same way and it saves you the trouble of plucking it. This was well meant but I did find it amusing - dealing with gifts of pheasants from husbands of friends who attend country shooting weekends is not generally a part of my life. Still you never know.

I discovered I really liked the taste of pigeon - it’s very dark and gamey, a lot like venison. We fried the pigeon and also smoked bacon cut into lardons and chunks of black pudding - separately so we didn’t contaminate anything with burnt bits. The meats went into the salad with lamb lettuce, croutons and balsamic dressing.

I must admit it did taste good though I remain dubious about the black pudding. Objectively speaking the black pudding tasted great. Subjectively speaking I was never not conscious of the fact that I was eating congealed blood. I’m not particularly sure I would make this - it’s not worth the effort for one, and I wouldn’t serve it at a dinner party unless I knew my guests were fans of black pudding. However, I might explore other possibilities for pigeon and would certainly order it at a restaurant.

My recipe for ‘caponata’ - the classic Sicilian vegetable dish starring aubergine and tomato and flavoured with olives and capers

Here in London, summer has arrived with a sudden burst. The days are long and sunshiney, the lawns and trees dazzle with emerald green, and there are roses blooming everywhere. As I sit here at 9.30pm, I can hear the birds singing outside, a cool breeze is blowing in through the window and the twilight sky is turning a soft peach and mauve colour. England can be glorious in June, though it pays to make the most of it because the summers are often so brief and the next rainy spell can be just around the corner.

It’s time too for summer food. The queen of the spring foods, asparagus, is still in season but not for much longer, now that English strawberries and raspberries are making an appearance. There are also plenty of aubergines (eggplants) around. This is one of my favourite vegetables and should be bought firm and a glossy dark purple.

To me, caponata is a dish that screams summer. It’s great on pasta or toasted Italian bread, or as a side dish. It’s good when it’s first made but it’s even better after a day or two in the fridge and can be eaten cold or room temperature. It’s great for using up a glut of tomatoes from the garden or bought in bulk at a street market, but it works perfectly well with tinned tomatoes. There are endless variations on caponata - you can use peppers (capsicum) for example - and it’s really a matter of using what’s available and in season.

This is my version of a very simple caponata. I really love the flavours of the meaty aubergine and tomato, the earthy celery and the zing of olives and capers. Some caponatas are very oily - in this version the aubergine cooks mostly in the liquids of the tomato so it’s very low fat and really ridiculously healthy. But good.

Ingredients

2 aubergines
2 celery sticks
600g crushed tomatoes (1.5 tins)
1 onion
2-3 garlic cloves
1-2 tbs olive oil
Dried Italian herbs including 1 bayleaf
24 kalamata olives
1 tbs capers
Salt and pepper

To serve: 5 leaves fresh basil

Method

1. Chop the onions finely and crush or finely slice the garlic. Dice the aubergine into 1cm chunks and slice the celery. Pit and slice the olives (a cherry deseeder is useful or you can simply cut around the seed with a knife).

2. Fry the onion and garlic gently in a heavy pot with a little oil until it is translucent and soft. Add the celery and then the aubergine. Add a little more oil if needed. Cook until the ingredients start to brown slightly.

3. Add tomatoes, dried herbs, olives and capers. Leave to simmer with the lid on. The dish is not ready until the aubergine is extremely tender. It is essential that you don’t get impatient - rubbery aubergine is horrible!

4. Season with salt and pepper. If you have fresh basil, then chiffanade it by rolling the leaves up and slicing it finely. Scatter the basil over the dish to serve. If you have some wonderful ripe tomatoes, you could chop or slice them and add them to the dish as well (but don’t bother unless the tomatoes are especially good). Serve hot or cold.

Another aubergine idea: Simon Hopkinson’s Asian-style fried aubergine with chilli and salad onions. Not quite as healthy but very tasty!

This week was my favourite Leiths lesson so far. We made chilli squid salad for our savoury dish and individual amaretti pavlovas for dessert. They were both amazing and very photogenic, as you can see. I took my camera along for the first time and I’m almost tempted to just let the pictures speak for themselves. Instead I’ve given you pictures and words - including a primer on how to clean a squid.

Individual amaretto pavlovas
We made the pavlova cases first. It’s very similar to a meringue with a base of whisked egg whites and sugar but pavlova mix also includes cornflour, vanilla essence and vinegar (or lemon juice). This gives it a chewy consistency that is slightly different to the brittleness of old-fashioned meringues. We also put in a pinch of salt, which is good for very fresh eggs as it mimics albumen and makes the egg whites stronger. The trick with meringues or pavlova is to be patient and add the sugar in a little at a time, whisking the whites back into stiff peaks each time. We divided our mix into four blobs and created an indentation in the middle with the back of a spoon. We baked on silica paper as it will stick to greaseproof paper and left them in the oven for about 45 minutes. We waited until they were completely cool before attempting to remove them from the paper, if they are still warm the pavlova can break and half stays on the paper.

We came back to the pavlovas after the squid. Our teachers filled and decorated a couple as a demonstration to us, while we took home the filling: whipped, sweetened cream; raspberries; rasberries coulis; chocolate cake soaked in amaretto; and crumbled amaretti biscuits. (Other suggestions included mint and chocolate shapes made from melting chocolate and piping it through a paper cone - which the teachers demonstrated but we didn’t get the chance to attempt). The pavlovas should be filled just before serving otherwise the cream can make the meringue soggy - though apparently if you fill the pavlova case with a chocolate lining, this makes it impervious to cream. My fiance and I had a pavlova each for dessert the following night and I have stored the other two cases in an airtight container in the cupboard - apparently they’ll keep for weeks.

Chilli salt squid with feta, rocket and black olives

To prepare the squid, we started by cleaning the squid. I done this before and I actually really enjoy it. Although I get some strange looks when I tell people I like it, I’ve also found that I’m definitely not the only one. It’s very tactile and sensual and because it’s utterly alien and nothing like a mammal, it’s not gruesome at all. It sounds gruesome but in real life it’s fine - nothing like the chicken livers. The best bit is pulling out the quill - it looks like a plastic feather and is delightfully odd.

Here’s a quick lesson on squid if you have never prepared it before. You can usually get your fishmonger to do this if you prefer, but I recommend trying this at least once - it’s not that hard.

• * The edible bits are the wings, the head and the tentacles and you want to throw away the internal organs, the eyes and beak and the quill.
• * You can basically pull the wings off, or cut them if you prefer, and this is edible; slightly tougher than the rest of the squid because it’s what they use to swim but still very good.
• * Then you cut off the tentacles under the eyes and put the tentacles aside to use. If the beak stayed with the eyes then fine, but if it came with the tentacles then you will have to pick it out and discard it.
• * Then you pull the eyes and organs (which are yellow and gooey) out from inside the head (it will come apart easily) and discard.
• * You are now left with the tentacles, head and wings. Use a piece of kitchen towel to rub off the membranes.
• * You might want to cut the tentacles to standardise the length. The head can either be sliced into rings like calamari, or you can slice it open, score it and cut small chunks for cooking.
• * Don’t worry if there is black ink everywhere - this is edible. You can wash it if you like but make sure you dry it completely if you are deep-frying to avoid vicious oil spitting.

I have cooked squid previously and my usual method is to marinate it in lemon and black pepper and then cook it on the barbecue or lightly fry it. I cook it for just enough time for it to turn white and then it’s done; over-cooked squid is rubbery and nasty.

At Leiths we followed a cracking recipe for chilli salt squid with feta, rocket and black olives by Marianne Lumb. It’s deep fried so it’s not as healthy but it’s incredibly tasty and would make a lovely starter at a dinner party or a light supper. We coated the pieces of squid in a little flour mixed with sea salt and chilli powder (cayenne pepper is also an option). We were warned not to use too much flour as otherwise it can go gluggy. We had a pot full of cooking oil that we brought the boil and we could judge the oil was hot enough when it took 15 seconds for a piece of bread to go brown. If it takes less time, the oil is too hot; if it takes more time, it’s not hot enough and the bread/squid will simply soak up excess oil. Then we cooked the squid in batches, taking care to lower it into the oil with a slotted spoon to avoid splashing. It took about 20 seconds (slightly longer than the bread) for the squid to go golden brown, at which point we removed it from the oil and left it to drain on kitchen towel with a little salt sprinkled over the squid to help absorb oil.

The squid was amazingly good - tender and crisp around the outside with a lovely tangy flavour. Even better when served in a salad with rocket, black olives, feta and lime juice. Yum! We ate the squid salad in class since it doesn’t keep well.

Next week: Wood pigeon and black pudding salad; apple strudel. Don’t forget to subscribe.

It’s a double-whammy of Leiths posts as I try to get up to date before the class tomorrow night. It’s hard to believe it’s week six already - more than halfway through the course!

Last week the menu was pork tenderloin with sage and madeira sauce, accompanied by crushed new potatoes and peas. We had a dessert for the first time since the second week - citrus fruit compote with spiced caramel sauce. The good news - for my tastebuds, that is, not my waistline - is that we have desserts every week now until the end of the course.

Pork tenderloin with sage and madeira

The pork tenderloin was a triumph. Apparently it’s called ‘tenderloin’ in the United States, while in the UK it’s either called ‘tenderloin’ or ‘fillet’. But those are the only two names it’s known by. It’s very lean, which is great because it’s healthy, but it also means that you have to cook it with great care to ensure it doesn’t get over-cooked and tough.

We trimmed the pork fillets of membrane and outer fat and browned them in a pan with half a tablespoon of sunflower oil. Then we transferred it to a roasting tin and put it in the oven at 190C (350F/Gas Mark 5) for 15-20 minutes.

In the mean time, we poured off any excess fat (there wasn’t any in my case because the meat was so lean and I’d trimmed off any visible fat). Then we added the Madeira and reduced by half, before adding the chicken stock. It didn’t thicken so we had to add a little beurre manie - basically flour and butter - to develop the syrupy consistency. Apparently sherry would also work in place of Madeira.

The pork is done when you put a knife through the meat and it comes out hot where it would have touched the centre of the meat. A lot of people think that it’s dangerous to have underdone pork, just as it’s dangerous to eat chicken that is not properly cooked. The Leiths teachers said this was no longer the case - apparently this perception dates from the days when pigs were fed swill and were prone to gut parasites, but this is not allowed any more and it’s perfectly safe to eat it slightly pink. (However, the Food Standards Agency disagrees).

We set the pork to rest slightly and served it with the sauce, scattered with chiffanaded sage, and accompanied by new potatoes crushed with peas. I opted for olive oil with the potatoes rather than butter. It was amazingly good - lean yet tender and full of flavour. I would definitely make that again.

Citrus fruit compote with spiced caramel

The dessert was quite tricky because we had to make caramel sauce, which involves slowly dissolving sugar in water. Once it’s dissolved, we turned the heat up and boiled without stirring until it turned a dark caramel colour. It is incredibly tempting to stir it but this is risky as it can make the sugar re-crystalise. Once it hitsthe right colour - and not a moment later - we had to remove it from the heat and pour in cold water, taking care not to get burnt by spitting sugar. Then we added spices, including bay leaves, star anise, a cinnamon stick, coriander seeds, lemon zest and root ginger, and left it to cool (to be strained the next day). We were told this would keep in the fridge for weeks.

The fruit compote was slightly easier. We sliced the kumquats finely to avoid big chunks of bitter fruit and peeled and cored the pineapple. The oranges and pink grapefruit were a test of our knife skills, as we had to remove the peel and white pith but keep them separated into attractive segments.

I think of a compote as cooked fruit. This was not cooked, though it was warmed slightly when we poured over the hot caramel sauce. Either way, it was definitely tasty! I really liked the spiced caramel - it would be great over ice cream. It was nice with the fruit as well and it’s good to have a vegan dessert recipe up my sleeve for when the occasion demands it.

Chicken liver pâté and melba toasts

I like liver pâté but I had never previously given much thought to its preparation. Now that I can speak from experience, I can say that ignorance is bliss and in future I will buy my rather than make pâté. Some things are best left to the specialists.

It’s not that it’s difficult to make, it’s just that I had to pick through a pile of chicken livers, removing membranes and green bits. The texture and smell made me gag. The torture wasn’t over until we had chopped the liver into chunks, rinsed them and patted them dry.

Once that was done, it got better. We’d already fried some garlic onion and left the remaining butter in the pan. Now we added the livers and fried, browning gently on all sides. Then we got to do a brandy flambé, which was very cool and almost made up for the grossness of the livers. We had flames shooting up to the ceiling and it was all okay because we were in a stainless steel industrial kitchen.

After that it was all plain sailing. We seasoned with salt and pepper and allowed to cool slightly. Then we blended the liver and onion mix in a food processor.

We made cute little melba toasts to go with it and they were definitely far superior to any commercial melba toasts and dead simple to make. You take white bread, remove the crusts, grill on both sides, then slice in half horizontally and grill again.

I have to admit the pâté was absolutely delicious. It almost made it worthwhile. But really, I’m not sure it was worth the pain considering the stuff at the delicatessen is so good.

On the other hand, liver pâté is not the only type of pâté in the world. There’s a recipe for kipper pâté right above the chicken liver pâté recipe that looks lovely and simple. And I had a great aubergine pâté from an Italian deli today. So perhaps I’ll be making pâté after all, just not in this form.

Chilli broccoli salad (and salmon)

The second thing we made was a lovely salad from Skye Gyngell’s cookbook A Year in my Kitchen. The salad involves broccoli that has been cooked but is still crunchy, radicchio and frisee lettuce. It is dressed with chilli and garlic oil, roasted red onions, lemon zest and juice, anchovies, olives and salt and pepper. It was a wonderful salad and would be almost as good without the anchovies for vegetarians or anchovy-haters. (I say almost because I love anchovies!).

We cooked salmon to go with it and we were shown how to fry or to roast in the oven in a parcel of aluminium foil. I really enjoyed it roasted - it tasted very clean and healthy.

Make the most of the all-too-brief English asparagus season by devouring the succulent green stems by the plateful - plus some cool trivia about ’sparrow grass’

It’s a foodie cliché to declare your love for asparagus, particularly here in Britain where asparagus lovers are so passionate they even have a two-month festival devoted to it. English asparagus is widely considered to be the best in the world - though I rather suspect the secret is freshness and it’s good anywhere as long as it doesn’t have long to travel from plate to fork.

But cliché or not, love it I do. And whether it’s the Englishness of the asparagus or its freshness, I won’t have any truck with imported asparagus in the depths of winter, because apart from the nasty business of food miles, it’s just not the same. At this time of year, the markets and shops are positively bursting with bunches of fat spears of asparagus. I buy as much of it as I can afford and eat as much of it as I can. I never seem to get sick of it but the asparagus hit is enough to keep me going until next May.

There are many recipes involving asparagus and of course it’s good with butter or hollandaise sauce (what isn’t?) but I usually eat it very plain - lightly cooked and sprinkled with salt and pepper, often with scrambled or poached eggs at breakfast time. I don’t really see the point of an asparagus steamer since it can’t be used for anything else (if you saw the size of my kitchen you would understand why). I either simmer it in a few inches of water, or if it is particularly thick and woody I cut it in half and cook the tips in a steamer and boil the bottoms in the same pot (which is basically what an asparagus steamer does anyway but without having to cut the stems). Asparagus is also good barbecued, which I only recently discovered at Sunday lunch at my friend Emme and Jon’s house. If you want inspiration for some fancier recipes, then look no further than May’s In the Bag seasonal cooking blogging event. There’s a further 26 asparagus recipes on the official British Asparagus website.

Now asparagus is never trivial but it is associated with some cool trivia:

• * Asparagus is also a member of the lily family, along with onions, and has been cultivated since ancient times. The name “asparagus” comes from a Greek word meaning “sprout”.

• * It’s also called ‘Hadley grass’ or just ‘grass’, particularly in Massachusetts. ‘Grass’ is sort for ’sparrow grass’, a 17th century corruption of ‘asparagus’. The best stuff was grown in the Mass town of Hadley (and still is, if you live in New England).

• * It can make your pee smelly funny. About half the population experience strange smelling (and sometimes green!) urine after eating asparagus due to sulphur-containing amino acids in the veg that break down during digestion.

• * Asparagus can be purple or white as well as green, but the white effect is achieved by growing it in the dark. The white type is popular in mainland Europe but can occasionally be found in the UK - be warned it takes twice as long to cook. I think the white stuff is nice but the flavour is more intense with the green variety, so it depends whether you prefer a more subtle or vibrant flavour. I prefer the green stuff, personally.

• * Asparagus grows from a crown planted a foot deep in sandy soils and in ideal conditions it can grow 10 inches in a day. Oh and it has virtually not calories or fat and is full of vitamins and minerals.

This is my version of pasta primavera - food to celebrate spring. You could make this at another time of year using good quality frozen peas and broad beans, or you could vary the recipe by using other spring vegetables such as leeks, spring onions, asparagus, snap peas.

This is vegetarian but if you prefer, you could make it with bacon and omit the feta. I prefer it this way as it tastes fresh and wholesome.

Ingredients

Penne, 2 cups
Olive oil, 1 tbs
Onion, 1/2
Garlic, 2 cloves
Peas, 1/2 cup
Broad beans (fava beans), 1/2 cup
Zucchini (courgette), 2 medium
Feta cheese, 70g
Juice of 1/2 lemon
Fresh mint, 2-3 tbs
Salt and pepper

Method

Cook the penne in boiling salted water until al dente, then drain. Transfer the penne to a bowl, stir in the lemon juice and set aside.

Meanwhile, chop the onion finely and crush the garlic. Top and tail the zucchini, then slice lengthways into thin, flat strips.

Heat the oil in a frypan, add the onion and garlic and cook on a low heat until translucent. Add the zucchini and keep frying on a low heat, stirring occasionally until it softens and browns. Add the peas and broad beans and cook for a few further minutes, until everything is warm and cooked. Mix the vegetables with the penne.

Chop the feta into cubes and chiffanade the mint (by rolling the leaves and then slicing to make long thin strips). Mix the cheese and mint into the pasta mix, season with salt and pepper and serve.

Serves 2-3 people.

It was Indian and Sri Lankan this week at Leiths but before I tantalise your tastebuds with descriptions of the yummy food, please permit me a short rant. If you don’t live in London, you might want to skip the next paragraph.

Leiths used to be fairly centrally located in Kensington. Unfortunately they needed bigger premises so they moved to the wilds of west London. It’s in the middle of nowhere, sort of wedged between Shepherd’s Bush Tube on the Central Line (which is closed right now anyway) and Turnham Green on the District Line. On Wednesday I was shopping in the West End and I left a little late, mainly because the glorious summer weather tricked me into thinking it was an hour earlier than it really was. I decided to get the Central Line to White City, the next station along from Shepherd’s Bush, and then get a taxi. I rang Leiths to say I would be about 10 minutes late and then went down for my Tube. I popped up in White City about a quarter hour later and found the roads in a state of traffic gridlock. I waited for a cab for over an hour and then the cab journey took nearly half an hour. I arrived at Leiths at 8pm - an hour and a half late. I was quite upset - it was a double whammy of the misery of getting there and the fact that I missed most of the class, which averages out at about £60 a night. So if you are thinking of taking a short course at Leiths, do be warned that it’s quite tricky to get to unless you work nearby.

Sri Lankan chicken curry, chana dhal, poori and raita
As a consequence of my late arrival, I expected I would be in time to pick up most of my ingredients to attempt the other dishes at home and maybe make one last dish. It turned out we were actually cooking in pairs so my poor partner had made everything without me (she kindly insisted that I still take half the food). I was in time to help make the cucumber raita (yogurt and cucumber condiment), and roll out and deep fry the poori (unleavened flat bread). I didn’t make the Kukul Mus Kari (Sri Lankan chicken curry), or the Chana Dhal (yellow lentil curry) myself, though I talked through the recipes with the instructors and feel confident I could attempt them on my own. The instructors also kindly showed me a few of the techniques that the class had covered earlier in the evening and explained how you would toast spices (although the spices came pre-prepared for the class).

I learned the following techniques: how to finely chop an onion (by cutting in half through the root and then criss-crossing with the root on) ; how to peel ginger (with the side of a teaspoon); how to cut chilli (lengthways and then scoop out pith and seeds with teaspoon); and how to toast spices (in a heavy frypan on low-medium heat with no butter or oil and then grind afterwards in mortar and pestle or in coffee grinder for large batches).

The chicken curry and the chana dhal were both quite mild and if I were making it, I would add more spice and chilli. This is a matter of personal preference. The chicken curry recipe used chicken thighs, which are more succulent than breasts (increase the cooking time if it’s on the bone), coconut milk and garam masala (a spice mix with coriander, cumin, fennel, black peppercorns, cinnamon, cloves, cardamom and fenugreek). The recipe also gave a few variations - the tomato and yogurt option sounds good to me. I’m not sure whether or not I would make the chicken curry again - I might attempt a different recipe instead. I do want to make the chana dhal though - the recipe used yellow lentils (the orange ones fall apart too quickly and brown lentils are for a different dish) and was cooked with spice and onion and tomato.

Poori is unleavened deep-fried bread. The dough was already made by the time I got there and had been sitting for 20 minutes under a tea towel. We took small lumps of dough and rolled it out thin with a rolling pin. We had a deep saucepan full of boiling oil and we used a slotted spoon to deep fry the bread. As soon as the dough started puffing, we turned it over and sloshed it about in the oil for a few seconds, then removed it from the oil, drain and sprinkled with salt. The poori was crisp around the edges and quite nice, though I like grilled or dry-fried flat bread just as much and it’s certainly healthier.

For the raita, we grated cucumber and then removed excess water, first by draining it through a sieve and then by wringing it out. We added salt and then mixed with yogurt, black pepper and mint. Raita is lovely and refreshing with spicy food, though it was a bit redundant with such mild curries.

Next week: Twice-baked salmon and dill souffles; and duck breasts with blackberry and apple sauce, and green beans. Subscribe so you don’t miss it!

I am keen to try out more healthy and diet-friendly recipes and also expand my knowledge of vegetarian cookery. I also love lasagne and believe that a good vegetarian lasagne is an essential dish in any cook’s repertoire. This recipe for lentil, mushroom and ricotta lasagne comes from The Low GI Vegetarian Cookbook by Dr Jennie Brand-Miller, Kaye Foster-Powell, Kate Marsh and Philippa Sandall. As the title of the book suggests, it’s both low GI and vegetarian. It serves six and the nutrition details per serve are: 1797 kilojoules (429 calories); 14g fat (saturated fat 6g); 7g fibre; 24g protein; 50g carbohydrate.

Lentil, mushroom and ricotta lasagne
Serves 6 * Preparation time: 20 minutes * Cooking time: 1 hour * Cooling time: 5 minutes

1 tablespoon olive oil
1 brown onion, finely chopped
1 carrot, peeled, finely chopped
1 stick celery, finely chopped
1 clove garlic, crushed
1 teaspoon freshly chopped thyme leaves
1 tablespoon tomato paste
400g (14 oz) can chopped tomatoes
400g (14 oz) can brown lentils, rinsed
400g (14 oz) button mushrooms, sliced
salt and freshly ground black pepper
500g (1 lb 2 oz) low fat ricotta
1 egg
125ml (4 fl oz / 1/2 cup) skim milk
pinch nutmeg
4 (30 x 16cm / 12 x 6 1/2 inch) fresh lasagne sheets
25g (1 oz / 1/4 cup) finely grated parmesan

1. Heat half the oil in a large, heavy-based saucepan over medium-low heat. Add the onion, carrot and celery and cook, stirring occasionally, for 6-8 minutes, or until the vegetables soften. Add the garlic and thyme and cook, stirring, for 1 minute. Add the tomato paste and cook, stirring, for 1 minute. Add the tomatoes and lentils and cook, stirring occasionally, for 10 minutes or until sauce thickens. Remove from heat and set aside.

2. Heat the remaining oil in a large pan, add the mushrooms and cook, stirring, for 3-4 minutes, or until slightly soft. Season and remove from heat.

3. Preheat oven to 180C (350F / Gas 4). Lightly oil a 2 litre (2 quart / 8 cup) ovenproof dish. Combine the ricotta, egg, milk and nutmeg in a bowl.

4. To assemble the lasagne, place a sheet of lasagne in the base of the prepared dish. Top with a third of the lentil mixture, scatter over a third of the mushrooms and smooth over a third of the ricotta mixture. Repeat these steps. Then top with a third lasagne sheet, the remaining lentils and mushrooms, then a fourth lasagne sheet, and finally the remaining ricotta. Sprinkle over the parmesan.

5. Bake for 30 minutes, or until top is golden and bubbling. Set aside to rest for 5 minutes before cutting.

Road test
A note on ingredients: I used vegetable oil instead of olive oil and substituted dried Italian herbs in place of fresh thyme. I also used full-fat ricotta and semi-skimmed milk rather than the low-fat ricotta and skimmed milk specified, so my calorie and fat count would be slightly higher than indicated on the recipe. I cooked French brown lentils from scratch instead of using canned lentils, omitted the tomato paste and added a teaspoon of miso paste to enhance the tomato vegetable sauce. My fresh lasagne sheets were small, so I had to use two sheets per layer instead of one.

Method: The recipe was very easy to follow and it didn’t take too long, even allowing for an extra 20 minutes to cook my dried lentils. Most of the cooking time is in the oven and doesn’t require close attention. I followed the metric measurements.

Result: This is a satisfying and tasty dish - it’s hard to believe it’s diet food. The portions were more than adequate, especially when served with a garden salad, and the leftovers were great for lunch or a quick supper throughout the week.

Verdict
It’s great to find vegetarian recipes that don’t rely on fake meat for protein but still taste really good. I have tried vegetarian lasagne recipes before and this is definitely my favourite so far. What a bonus that it’s also so healthy! I would definitely make this again. Next time I would probably still add the miso to give it a very full flavour but maybe only half a teaspoon as I found it quite strong (though my partner couldn’t taste it).

Spring is well and truly here in the northern hemisphere, which means that we suddenly have a whole lot more fresh, locally grown food to choose from. Here in the UK we are coming into asparagus season, which is very exciting. English asparagus has a worldwide reputation for its succulent texture and strong, fresh flavour. Its harvest season is very short but it’s worth gorging yourself on it for a couple of months and then not bothering with the imports at all, which may be inferior and will certainly be less fresh.

Right now it’s all about spring greens - as well as asparagus, there’s spring onion, peas and beans, and we’re still getting purple sprouting broccoli. I love the look of this spring ragout on 101 Cookbooks. It uses fava beans, which is what we call broad beans in the UK and Australia. Last year I got a lot of broad beans in <a href=”http://www.abelandcole.co.uk” target=”_new”>my organic vegetable box</a> so I’m looking forward to that.

The seasonal ingredients in April’s In the Bag event on A Slice of Cherry Pie were watercress, feta cheese and Jersey royal potatoes. There is a small but excellent round-up of creations on the site - my personal favourite is the watercress soup with feta, potato and thyme bread from The Pie Times.

I didn’t enter this month - I was away for half the month and have been really busy with work since my return. Instead I took inspiration from the event and used similar ingredients for a simple packed lunch. I didn’t find any Jersey Royal potatoes but I steamed some lovely new potatoes and served them cold with a thick fillet of spicy smoked salmon, a handful of watercress, a couple of spoons of natural cottage cheese, and salt and pepper. It was heavenly! It spent a couple of hours in my lunch before I ate it, which actually enhanced the flavours because it meant the juices had time to run into each other and marinate. I would definitely make it again - it would also work with smoked trout or mackerel and perhaps with different greens such as rocket or baby spinach.