Way back when Iwas ajunior pastry chef, I'd bake loads of muffins every morning, as many as 120 or so, while operating on autopilot. On one occasion, however, Iwas so zoned out that I forgot a tray of 24 uncooked muffins that I'd left in a corner of the kitchen, and realised my mistake only when the manager came in to complain. Desperate, Iput the tray in the oven and, lo and behold, they baked and domed way better than earlier batches. That's how I learned to leave muffins to stand for a while pre-baking.
The evolution of bread, likewise, issaid to be rooted in a moment of forgetfulness: some flour and water dough was left out overnight and – due to the natural yeast and warmth in the air – rose as it had never done before. Buttermilk and butter, too, are said to be the result of accident and circ*mstance, when a container of cream was churned by a bumpy ride. Korean kimchi had a similarly neglected upbringing, when a batch of veg was left outside, forgotten over the winter and found, months later, fermented, pungent and all set to become the national dish.
Who knows the extent to which these stories are true, but they are useful reminders of how much we can learn when things don't go to plan. Cooking ameal by following arecipe shows you have a certain level of kitchen competence and an ability to follow instructions. But working around a recipe for which you are missing an ingredient; or coming up with a meal based only on what's to hand; or changing tack when things don't go as expected: these are signs of a cook with the confidence to experiment and have a bit of fun.
It's this ingredient-led, rather than instruction-led, approach to cooking that makes me a fan of books such as Niki Segnit's The Flavour Thesaurus or Ana Sortun's Spice: Flavours Of The Eastern Mediterranean. Rather than a list of set recipes, both take an ingredient and see where it leads. Vanilla and chocolate, vanilla and raspberry, vanilla and eggs and hazelnut… yes, we know about those. But how much fun can be had in knowing that a little vanilla also works wonders with cardamom, shellfish or tomatoes?
Both of this week's recipes are different from how I first imagined them, and both are the better forit.
Creamy potato and tuna salad
This came about when I was trying to make tuna confit by slowly cooking the fish in oil, and ended up with something not much better than adecent can of tuna. So I added afew ingredients, and turned it into atake on salade niçoise with a creamy, tuna-based sauce similar to the one used in that classic Italian dish vitello tonnato. Serves four to six.
700g waxy potatoes such as charlotte
2 tbsp olive oil, plus extra to finish
80g pitted black olives
Salt and black pepper
70g watercress
70g radicchio, leaves torn
70g rocket
½ small red onion, peeled and thinly sliced
2 tbsp lemon juice
4 medium eggs, semi hard-boiled and peeled
For the dressing
2 egg yolks
¾ tbsp lemon juice
5 anchovy fillets, roughly chopped
1½ tsp white-wine vinegar
¼ tsp caster sugar
90ml olive oil
90ml sunflower oil
180g good tinned tuna, drained
1½ tbsp salted capers, rinsed anddrained
Cook the potatoes in boiling salted water for 20 minutes, until soft. Drain and, when cool enough to handle, cut lengthways into quarters. Heat atablespoon of olive oil in a frying pan over medium-high heat, add the potatoes and sauté for eight minutes, turning occasionally, so that all the sides crisp up.
While the potatoes are boiling, make the sauce. Put the egg yolks, lemon juice, anchovies, vinegar and sugar in the small bowl of a food processor with half a teaspoon of salt. Blitz smooth and, with the motor running, add the two oils in a slow trickle, so the mix emulsifies and forms a mayonnaise. Add half the tuna, broken into pieces, and all the capers, and process until smooth. This sauce is meant to be thick, but even so you may need to thin it out with a tablespoon or two of cold water, to get it to a consistency where it drops off a spoon. Transfer to abowl, add the potatoes, olives, the remaining tuna, flaked this time, and some black pepper, and mix gently.
To serve, put the leaves in a bowl with the onion. Add the remaining tablespoon of olive oil and the lemon juice, and toss. Spread out a third of the leaves on a large platter. Spoon half the potato salad over the leaves, followed by another third of the leaves, the remaining potatoes and finally the last of the leaves. Quarter the eggs, sit them on top, dribble over some olive oil and finish with asprinkling of salt and pepper.
Sweet onion and aubergine spread
This started off as a salad but ended up making more sense as a spread or condiment to spoon on toast and sprinkle with feta, or to serve warm next to rice with lentils. These quantities make quite a lot because, like a chutney, it improves over time and keeps well in the fridge – at least 10 days. Makes three 250ml jars.
4 large aubergines
40g currants or golden raisins
1½ tbsp sherry vinegar
4 tbsp olive oil
3 medium onions, peeled and thinlysliced
2 red peppers, deseeded and cut into 0.5cm-thick strips
4 garlic cloves, crushed
2 large stalks celery, cut into 1cm dice
8 sprigs fresh thyme
2 tbsp tomato passata
½ tsp sugar
Salt and black pepper
½ tsp caraway seeds, toasted and lightly crushed
Heat the oven to 260C/500F/gas mark 10 – basically, as hot as it will go. Pierce the aubergines in a few places with a sharp knife, place them on a baking tray and roast forabout an hour, turning every 20minutes or so, until the skin has scorched black and collapsed. Remove from the oven and, whenthe aubergines are cool enough to handle, slice them in halflengthways, scoop out the pulp into a colander and leave to drain forat least 30 minutes; discard the charred skins.
Put the currants or golden raisins in a small bowl, pour over the sherry vinegar and set aside to swell for at least 30 minutes.
Heat the oil in a large sauté pan and add the onion, pepper, garlic, celery and thyme sprigs. Cook gently on a medium-low heat for 25minutes, stirring from time to time, then add the passata, 250ml water, the sugar, half a teaspoon of salt and a good grind of black pepper, and cook for another 40-50 minutes, again stirring from time to time. The mixture needs to thicken slowly and take on an almost jam-like consistency. Add the aubergine pulp, caraway seeds and vinegar-soaked currants, and cook for 20 minutes more, stirring occasionally.
Remove from the heat and pick out the thyme sprigs. Serve warm, or leave to cool completely, transfer to a clean jar and refrigerate.
