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A Modern Way to Eat: Over 200 satisfying, everyday vegetarian recipes
A Modern Way to Eat: Over 200 satisfying, everyday vegetarian recipes
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A Modern Way to Eat: Over 200 satisfying, everyday vegetarian recipes

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SERVES 4

olive oil

1 red onion, peeled and finely sliced

2 carrots, peeled and finely chopped

1 clove of garlic, peeled and sliced

sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

1 × 400g tin of chopped tomatoes

1 × 400g tin of chickpeas, drained

½ a veg stock cube, or 1 teaspoon veg stock powder

1 stick of cinnamon

1 preserved lemon, halved, seeds removed

a handful of raisins

100g Israeli couscous

a small bunch of fresh parsley, leaves picked and chopped

TO SERVE

a good pinch of saffron strands

4 tablespoons natural yoghurt of your choice

½ a clove of garlic, peeled and chopped super-fine

4 handfuls of rocket

a small handful of toasted pine nuts

Heat a little olive oil in a pan over a medium heat, then add the onion, carrot, garlic and a good pinch of sea salt and cook for 10 minutes, until the onion is soft and sweet.

Next, add the tomatoes and chickpeas. Fill both cans with water and add to the pan too. Add the stock cube, cinnamon stick, preserved lemon halves and raisins. Season with salt and pepper and simmer on a medium heat for 15–20 minutes, until the tomato broth has thickened slightly and tastes wonderfully full and fragrant.

Add the couscous and cook for another 10 minutes, making sure you top up with a little extra water here if necessary. I like more of a soup than a stew, so I usually add another can of water.

Meanwhile, put the saffron into a bowl with a small splash of boiling water and allow it to sit for 5 minutes. Then add the yoghurt, garlic and a pinch of salt and mix well.

After 10 minutes the couscous should be cooked, while still keeping a little chewy bite. Check the seasoning and add more salt and pepper if needed, stir through the parsley then scoop out the preserved lemon halves and ladle your stew into bowls. Top with a crown of rocket, a good spoonful of saffron yoghurt and a pile of toasted pine nuts.

Seeded bread and roast tomato soup

A few years ago I spent a glorious six months living and working among the Chianti vines in the deep green heart of Tuscany. I was an hour’s walk from the nearest bus and cooking was all there was to do. We worked hand in hand with what was going on around us and it was glorious. We made this traditional Tuscan favourite, pappa pomodoro, for our staff lunch at least twice a week – comfort eating at its best.

The flame-red tomatoes turn scarlet pink when slowly roasted, and the bread softens and soaks up the tomato juices to become almost soft and milky. The seeded bread is my way of doing things – I love the pops of texture it adds. I still make this in deepest winter with four tins of really good cherry tomatoes and rosemary or thyme – it’s a different soup but still killer.

SERVES 4

500g ripe vine tomatoes, halved

2 cloves of garlic, peeled and finely chopped

a large bunch of fresh basil, leaves picked

sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

olive oil

2 × 400g tins of good-quality plum tomatoes

4 slices of good-quality seeded bread

Preheat the oven to 220°C/fan 200°C/gas 7.

Pop the vine tomatoes into a large deep ovenproof casserole dish with the garlic, half the basil and a good pinch of salt and pepper, and drizzle with olive oil. Place in the oven for 20 minutes to roast and intensify. Once your tomatoes are roasted, take the pan out of the oven and pop it on the heat, remembering to be careful, as your pan will be very hot.

Add the tinned tomatoes and a tin of water and break up the tomatoes a little with the back of a wooden spoon. Bring to a simmer, then cook for 20 minutes.

Once the soup is thick and sweet, tear the slices of bread and most of the rest of the basil over the top, cover with a lid and leave to sit for 10 minutes. Then give it a stir so it all comes together. Ladle into bowls, drizzle generously with very good olive oil, scatter with the remaining basil and eat with enthusiasm and a fine Chianti.

ONE SOUP: 1000 VARIATIONS

Walnut miso broth with udon noodles

One of my favourite meals to go out and eat is this one, sitting on my own at the noodle bar in Koya in Soho. Their udon noodles are from the gods, just the right side of chewy. But it’s the walnut miso paste that comes next to them in a little bowl, that really crowns it. I am sure they make it in a far more sophisticated way – I’ve never asked. This is my version.

This is a soup that has everything. Deep umami flavour, cleansing sharpness and a delicious bundle of veg. Both udon and soba noodles work here. The broth is a very simple and clean one and you’ll need to stir in the walnut and miso for the flavours to really work. At Koya they add one of those amazing Japanese eggs, poached in their shell. I sometimes add a poached egg too, but it divides opinion, so I have left it out here.

Walnuts and I have a curious relationship. After a year working at a posh restaurant in Knightsbridge where I had to individually peel each walnut without breaking it, weaving delicately in and out of those dainty, frilly edges, I fell out of love with them. But I have ditched the peeling and have since fallen back into their arms. They are a delicious vegetarian source of omega 3, which is key for brain health – a handful will provide you with almost all you need in a day, so get snacking on some walnuts.

Most veg would work well in this broth – chard, asparagus, sugar snaps, spinach. Don’t be tied to what I have suggested here.

SERVES 2

FOR THE WALNUT MISO PASTE

100g walnuts, lightly toasted

2 tablespoons dark miso paste (I use brown rice miso)

2 tablespoons honey or agave syrup

1 tablespoon sweet soy sauce or tamari

a splash of white wine vinegar

FOR THE BROTH

2 spring onions, trimmed and finely sliced

a thumb-size piece of fresh ginger, peeled and chopped into matchsticks

1 veg stock cube, or 1 tablespoon veg stock powder

1 head of spring greens, destalked and shredded

a handful of shimeji mushrooms (about 150g)

a handful of enoki mushrooms (about 150g)

250g dried udon noodles

Preheat your oven to 220°C/fan 200°C/gas 7.

Put the walnuts on a baking tray and toast them in the oven for 5–10 minutes, until just browned and smelling great. Take out and leave to one side to cool.

Now get the broth going. Put the spring onions, ginger and veg stock cube or powder into a pan with 2 litres of water, place on the heat and bring to the boil. Reduce the heat and simmer for 10 minutes, then add the greens and mushrooms and turn off the heat.

Meanwhile, bring another pan of water to the boil. Add the noodles and cook for 6–8 minutes (or follow the instructions on the packet).

Pulse the toasted walnuts in a food processor until they resemble very coarse breadcrumbs. Mix with the other walnut miso paste ingredients.

Once the noodles are cooked, drain and divide them between two bowls. Ladle over the hot broth (about 2 ladles for each bowl) and pop a generous spoonful of walnut miso in the middle of each and stir in.

Restorative coconut broth

There are some evenings when I feel like I’ve absorbed the day. When all the frenetic activity around me has somehow seeped in. Whenever I am feeling off centre and need some calming, this is what I have for dinner. The clean white of this broth is like a blanket on a cold night and whispers away the hustle and bustle. The coconut milk calms and soothes, the chilli boosts and wakens, the lime leaves and lemongrass cleanse, and veg add fuel and freshness.

I pick up bundles of lemongrass and lime leaves whenever I see them. If you haven’t used them before you will be amazed at the powerful citrus depth they impart in minutes. If you use them frequently you can keep them in the fridge, where they will last about a month. If you are less likely to use them up that fast, pop them into the freezer – they keep well and can be used from frozen.

SERVES 4

2 × 400g tins of coconut milk

1 veg stock cube, or 1 tablespoon veg stock powder

4 sticks of lemongrass

optional: 4 lime leaves

1 shallot, peeled and finely sliced

2 cloves of garlic, peeled and halved

1 red chilli, roughly chopped

2 tablespoons coconut sugar (see here (#litres_trial_promo)) or golden caster sugar

a bunch of fresh coriander

4 generous handfuls (about 250g) of green leaves, shredded (spring greens, pak choi, cavolo nero)

2 handfuls (about 120g) of mushrooms (enoki, shitake, oyster or sliced chestnut would do well)

2 tablespoons soy sauce or tamari

juice of 2 limes

Pour the coconut milk into a large pan and add a canful of water and the stock cube or powder. Bash the lemongrass with a rolling pin until it’s smashed, to help release the flavours more quickly. Add to the pan with the lime leaves (if using), shallot, garlic, chilli and sugar. Cut the roots off the coriander and add these too.

Push all the aromatics into the liquid so they are covered and turn the heat on under the pan. Bring to a gentle simmer, then allow to bubble for 15 minutes, until you have an intensely flavoured coconut broth.

Take the pan off the heat and sieve the broth into a bowl, discarding all the aromatics (they have done their work now). Then pour the broth back into the pan. Add the shredded greens and mushrooms, and warm through for 2–3 minutes. Then take off the heat and add the soy sauce and lime juice.

Ladle the soup into bowls and top with the roughly chopped coriander leaves. I like the neatness of this simple, soothing soup on its own, but if you are hungry, try adding some cooked soba noodles.

Sweet tomato and black bean tortilla bowls

I love Mexican food for its attention to different textures and its layers of flavour, crunch, softness, creaminess, citrus punch and chilli heat, and that’s what I like about this bowl.

The soupy-stew is great on its own, but when you top it with popping roasted tomatoes, buttery avocado and even a perfectly poached egg it becomes a serious team of flavours in a bowl. Don’t be fooled by the title – this is not one of those sketchy bowls made from a baked tortilla that you see in dodgy Mexican restaurants.

Smoked paprika is a good friend – if I can find any excuse to shake some of the sweet smoky stuff on to my food, I will. Last year I visited my holy grail: the chilli fields of La Vera in Spain. Over the years I have been lucky enough to tour a bunch of different artisans and producers, but this was my favourite one of all – fields and fields of brave red chillies, picked by hand and carted to huge kilns in a beautiful old smokery in the middle of the fields, where fires were lit below ceilings made of wire racks holding thousands of chillies, to smoke them and get that wonderful taste.

SERVES 4

1 medium sweet potato, washed and chopped into little pieces

20 cherry tomatoes, halved

sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

olive or rapeseed oil

a bunch of spring onions, trimmed and finely sliced

2 cloves of garlic, peeled and finely sliced

1 teaspoon sweet smoked paprika