300 g flour 200 g sugar (any kind – I used brown “Rohrsucker”) 2 tblsp of the best cocoa powder you can find 175 g whole almonds 1 tsp baking powder 1/2 heaped tsp ground cloves 1/2heaped tsp ground cinnamon Grated peel of 1 organic (or at least unwaxed) lemon, washed. 3 whole eggs
Add lemon peel and eggs and knead to a uniform dough. Add more flour if it is too sticky.
Shape the dough into two approx. 20 cm long rolls. Place on baking paper and flatten them slightly to achieve the classic biscotti shape.
Bake for 15 minutes and remove from oven. When the rolls are cool enough to handle, using a very sharp knife, cut them into approx. 1 cm slices and bake again for ten minutes.
Let cool completely and keep in a container with a tight-fitting lid.
And remember – biscottis are supposed to be hard. That way, at least those of us with old teeth have an excuse to dip them in our coffee before eating.
NOTE: The recipe that inspired me did not mention neither thyme, rosemary, ginger or garlic, but I think those flavours are required, and go well here. Alternatively at least a couple of bayleaves. There is no reason to make northern European food more bland and boring than it has to be. Perhaps I’ll add garam masala and chili next time.
It did list a dl of cream, but I have never been able to see the point in adding cream to savoury dishes, so I threw in 100 g oats instead (since I am trying to incorporate oats into everything these days).
1 tblsp butter (I used ghee but I think olive oil would work too)
200 g chestnut, cooked and vacuum packed
400 g potatoes
100 g oats
2 red onions (the original recipe says 1)
4 cloves garlic
1 piece fresh ginger, finely chopped
Sprigs of thyme and rosemary
1 l vegetable stock
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
Cut the chestnuts, potatoes, onions and garlic in large pieces and add, together with the ginger to a pan and sizzle in the butter (or ghee).
Add the stock, thyme and rosemary, salt and pepper and bring to the boil and simmer for about 30 minutes.
Fish out the herbs, and blend the rest. Season and serve garnished with chopped parsley or roasted oats.
100 g oats, plus some for garnishing, roasted in ghee or oil
250 g broccoli, in pieces
100 g snow peas, trimmed and halved
200 g chopped red onion
3 (or more) finely chopped garlic cloves
20 g finely chopped ginger
3 tblsp coconut oil
2 tblsp sugar (coconut blossom sugar if available)
2 tsp Thai red currypaste, OR fresh lemongrass, lime leaves and chili
400 ml coconut milk
Salt and pepper
Lime or lemon juice
Fresh koriander
NOTE: An ice-cream scooper usually helps to carve away pumpkin seeds and fluff.
Also, Contrary to what many recipes will have you believe, it is not necessary to remove the peel. When cooked, it is eminently edible, and there is nutrition, colour and texture which it is a shame to waste.
Sautée onion, garlic and ginger in the oil.
Add sugar and let it lightly caramelise.
Add currypaste or lemongrass/lime leaves/chili and stir.
Add coconutmilk and bring to a simmer
Add pumpkin and chickpeas and simmer for ten minutes.
Add broccoli and snow peas and simmer for about three minutes.
Season with salt, pepper and lemon or lime juice, and garnish with the chopped fresh coriander and roasted oats.
Here served with leftover Masala Oats, converted into a salad with the help of walnut oil, lemon juice, feta, and rucola and herbs from the balcony.
1 butternut squash
2 cloves garlic
2 red onions
1 tin tomatoes
1 tblsp harissa
1 knob fresh ginger
1 tsp turmeric
2 tblsp olive oil
1 tsp sugar
Salt and pepper
Bayleaves
1 tblsp honey
1 tsp smoked paprika
100 g feta
Herbs to garnish
Preheat the oven to 200 C
Halve the squash and remove the seeds with a spoon or an ice scooper, depending on the size of the cavity.
Place the squash peel up and cut almost through at about 4 mm intervals. Place a pencil on either side to make sure you do not cut it all the way through.
Slice garlic and onions and mix with the tinned tomato and 1 tblsp olive oil, season with turmeric, chili, salt and pepper, and spread this mixture in a small baking tray.
Place the squash peel up on top of this layer. Place a couple of bayleaves in the slits. Drizzle the rest of the olive oil on the squash halves and bake in oven for 20 minutes.
Paint the squash halves with honey, dust with smoked paprika and bake, uncovered, for another 20 minutes.
Scatter feta cheese over the halves for the last ten minutes in the oven, or just before serving.
60 g peanut or almond butter (I used almond butter, and next time, I might replace some of it with tahin
50 g honey
4 tblsp pumpkin seeds
4 tblsp chia seeds
100 g oats
50 g chopped almonds
Optional: for extra nutrition, add 1 tblsp baobab powder, and for extra flavour, 1 tblsp of the best and darkest cocoa powder you can find.
Coarsely chop the dates and purée them with hot water. Start with 1 tblsp water and gradually add just enough to make a thick, fairly smooth purée.
Slowly heat up and mix the nut butter and honey.
Mix all ingredients well – best done by hand.
Line a small, square plate, 15×15 cm or similar, with baking paper, and PRESS the mixture into it. You want to be able to cut it into compact bars once it has set.
Again recently, a lot has been written about the health benefits of oats, so my current obsession is to try to incorporate oats into as many meals as possible.
2 cloves garlic and a small knob of fresh ginger, finely chopped
5 dl vegetables, in this case red pepper and zucchini, chopped
1 dl cooked green lentils
1 small tsp turmeric
Salt
Chili to taste, in whichever form you have available
1 tsp garam masala
Dry-roast the oats till they smell good.
Heat the oil and sizzle the cumin seeds. Add onion, garlic and ginger and sauté.
Add the vegetables and the rest of the ingredients except the oats, and sauté till the vegetables soften. If it starts to dry up, add water rather than oil.
Add the oats, stir well, and cook through.
Garnish with (preferably) fresh coriander, or any other herb you have available.
No, CNN and BBC World, it is – still – not “Europe’s migrant crisis”. It is certainly a crisis, to put it mildly, for the migrants. But for Europe, it is a crisis of xenophobia, bloody-mindedness, mean-spiritedness, inhumanity, and lack of empathy and solidarity, as well as of political will to solve an issue which ought to be a piece of cake for an area as large, wealthy, and some even say enlightened (yeah, well, just keep thinking that and it may come true one day) as Europe.
Let’s start close to home, the courtyard of the building I live in.
Cars and other motorised vehicles are allowed to park helter-skelter wherever they like, but bikes are ONLY allowed in a room which is much too small, alternatively in our own rooms in the basement which involves schlepping the bike through the main door, carrying it down two short flights of stairs, unlocking the room to the basement, then up a couple of steps, round yet another corner and unlocking our private room, which is barely big enough for a bike.
In our building, which is obviously stuck somewhere in the mid-20th century (anti bikes, anti environment ….), everything has to be as easy and simple as possible for motorised vehicles, and as difficult and bothersome as possible for bikes.
In my view, the courtyard should be used for something much better, nicer, more modern and more environment-friendly than asphalt and cars, and no cars should be allowed in the courtyard at all.
When I bought the flat here, I also bought a parking space, and was promised that I would be able to use it for a bike rack (to make sure the bike would never fall over and get anywhere near the precious cars) and keep my bike there. However, the other inhabitants in the building did not want that, and kept cutting the increasingly heavy chain and placing my bike out of sight right at the end of the courtyard.
Ever since I moved in, I have tried to float the subject of creating bike parking spaces in the as yet completely un-utilised areas in the courtyard (not using those spaces is a complete waste if you ask me), but that has met with no interest whatsoever.
I have now given up, sold the parking space, and given away my bike.
By the way, did I mention that our Hausverwaltung is Schön & Sever?
Into the street: In Lindenstraße, there is a very narrow bike path BETWEEN parked cars and a very busy street (despite the fact that we all know how drivers can’t be bothered to look behind them before opening their car door). An arrangement seen in many streets all over Berlin. Who in their right mind builds streets like that?
Other bike paths (where they exist), apart from being equally narrow, are full of potholes, lampposts and trees, cars park on them with impunity, and some of them even have a double function as bus lanes (!!!!).
There are many recipes on-line. This time, I did this (note that whatever I do, I never add bread, nor water):
2 cucumbers, peeled and chopped
2 red peppers, deseeded and chopped
1 kg ripe plum tomatoes, cored and chopped
5 garlic cloves, peeled and crushed
2 onions, trimmed and finely chopped
Large glug of the best olive oil you can find
Small glug of the best sherry or red wine vinegar you can find
Salt and freshly ground pepper.
Bonus tip if you are the lucky owner of both a food processor and a blender: Save yourself a lot of fine-chopping for the blender and run the vegetables in chunks in the food processor first, and then blend with the rest of the ingredients. Time-wise, that is worth the extra washing up.
Pour some of the gazpacho into an ice-cube tray and freeze. That way, you have ice cubes to add when serving that will not dilute the soup.
(That is a little bit too much sugar for my taste, so I reduced it a bit, especially since I will be serving it with a crema catalana, which is already quite sickly-sweet). And yes, my next course should be food photography :-).
For the base
0,5 l milk
4 tsp cornstarch
3 dl whipping cream
100 g sugar
1 nip salt
3 tbsp cream cheese
Rhubarb Jam
500 g rhubarb, washed, topped and tailed, and sliced
100 g sugar
1 vanilla bean, slit lengthwise and cut into two or three pieces to let the contents escape into the jam
Bring rhubarb, sugar, vanilla bean to a boil. Let simmer, covered, for five minutes. Puree with an immersion blender and let simmer again till a jam-like texture. Let cool completely in the fridge.
Bring milk, 1 dl whipping cream, sugar and salt to a boil and cook, whisking, for a couple of minutes. Thicken with the cornstarch and continue to cook for another couple of minutes.
Combine cream cheese and about a quarter of the milk mixture, whisking until smooth, then whisk in remaining milk mixture. Chill completely in the fridge.
Combine rhubarb and milk mixture when both are completely chilled. Whip the remaining cream and fold in the rhubarb mixture. Freeze, stirring every half hour till the right texture (unless of course you have an ice cream machine.