Greenfeast Read online

  Copyright

  4th Estate

  An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers

  1 London Bridge Street

  London SE1 9GF

  www.4thEstate.co.uk

  First published in Great Britain by 4th Estate in 2019

  Text copyright © Nigel Slater 2019

  All recipe photographs © Jonathan Lovekin 2019

  Except p. 183 and p. 279 © Nigel Slater 2019

  Brushstrokes copyright © Tom Kemp 2019

  Nigel Slater asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

  Design by David Pearson

  Author photograph by Jenny Zarins

  A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

  Source ISBN: 9780008213770

  Ebook Edition © August 2019 ISBN: 9780008218171

  Version: 2019-08-21

  For James

  Tom Kemp

  Tom Kemp has had a couple of careers. He trained formally as a theoretical computer scientist and followed a sequence of post-doctoral research and programming posts. In parallel, he was learning to be an artist by studying the writings of ancient manuscripts, not their content but how they were made. In particular, he worked out the details of a Roman signwriting technique which has informed all his brushwork, both readable and abstract. This calligraphic training led to a deeper pursuit of writing in general and artworks in many media, including graffiti and digital work. Along the way he learned to make porcelain vessels on a potter’s wheel, an activity he describes as ‘calligraphy in 3D’, and these now form the large surfaces on which he continues to write.

  tomkemp.com

  Instagram @tom_kemp_

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Tom Kemp

  Introduction

  Winter Basics

  A BROWN VEGETABLE STOCK

  OATS, DRIED MULBERRIES, DATE SYRUP

  In a Pan

  ARTICHOKES, BEANS, GREEN OLIVES

  AUBERGINES, GINGER, TAMARIND

  BRUSSELS SPROUTS, BROWN RICE, MISO

  BURRATA, BEANS, TOMATOES

  BUTTERNUT, BREADCRUMBS, CURRY POWDER

  BUTTERNUT, FETA, EGGS

  EGGS, EDAMAME, BEAN SPROUTS

  FENNEL, PEAS, HALLOUMI

  JERUSALEM ARTICHOKES, PISTACHIOS, GRAPES

  MUSHROOMS, HUMMUS, HERBS

  PARSLEY, PARMESAN, EGGS

  PUMPKIN, ONIONS, ROSEMARY

  RAINBOW CHARD, EGG, NOODLES

  TOFU, RADISH, PONZU

  On Toast

  BEETROOT, APPLE, GOAT’S CURD

  CRUMPETS, CREAM CHEESE, SPINACH

  EGGS, SPINACH, BREAD

  LEEKS, CAERPHILLY, MUSTARD

  MUSHROOMS, BLUE CHEESE, TOASTING MUFFINS

  NAAN, MOZZARELLA, TOMATOES

  In the Oven

  ARTICHOKES, WINTER ROOTS, SMOKED SALT

  BRUSSELS SPROUTS, SMOKED MOZZARELLA, DILL

  BUTTER BEANS, PEPPERS, AUBERGINES

  CABBAGE, BERBERE SPICE, CRUMBS

  CARROTS, SPICES, PANEER

  CAULIFLOWER, ONIONS, BAY

  CHEDDAR, TARRAGON, EGGS

  CHEESE, THYME, GRAPES

  CHICKPEAS, RADICCHIO, BUTTER BEANS

  FENNEL, CREAM, PINE KERNELS

  LENTILS, SWEET POTATO, TOMATOES

  MUSHROOMS, CHICKPEAS, TAHINI

  ONIONS, TALEGGIO, CREAM

  PARSNIPS, SHALLOTS, GOAT’S CURD

  PARSNIPS, SMOKED GARLIC, FETA

  POTATOES, BRUSSELS SPROUTS

  POTATOES, SWEET POTATOES, CREAM

  POTATOES, TAHINI, THYME

  POTATOES, TOMATOES, HORSERADISH

  PUMPKIN, CHICKPEAS, ROSEMARY

  PUMPKIN, COUSCOUS, DATE SYRUP

  PUMPKIN, MUSTARD, CREAM

  SWEET POTATO, JALAPEÑOS, BEANS

  SWEET POTATOES, TOMATOES

  On a Plate

  APPLES, BLUE CHEESE, WALNUTS

  BEETROOT, BLOOD ORANGE, WATERCRESS

  MUSHROOMS, ORANGE, BREADCRUMBS

  RED CABBAGE, CARROTS, SMOKED ALMONDS

  With a Crust

  FILO PASTRY, CHEESE, GREENS

  LEEKS, PARSNIPS, PASTRY

  LEEKS, TOMATO, PECORINO

  SHALLOTS, APPLES, PARMESAN

  SWEDE, MUSHROOM, GRUYÈRE, THYME

  SWEET POTATO, PUFF PASTRY

  With a Ladle

  BEETROOT, LENTILS, GARAM MASALA

  BEETROOT, SAUERKRAUT, DILL

  BLACK-EYED BEANS, ROSEMARY, KALE

  BRUSSELS TOPS, BLUE CHEESE

  CELERIAC, HORSERADISH, PUMPERNICKEL

  CHEDDAR, CIDER, MUSTARD

  FENNEL, CUCUMBER, MINT

  MUSHROOMS, BUTTERNUT, SOURED CREAM

  NOODLES, LENTILS, SOURED CREAM

  ORZO, SMOKED MOZZARELLA, THYME

  TAHINI, SESAME, BUTTERNUT

  On the Hob

  AUBERGINE, TOMATO, COCONUT MILK

  CARROTS, RICE, CORIANDER

  FREGOLA, GREENS, PECORINO

  GNOCCHI, PEAS, EGG YOLK

  HARICOT BEANS, RICE, ONIONS

  LENTILS, SWEDE, PAPRIKA

  MILK, MUSHROOMS, RICE

  MOGRABIA, TOMATOES, LABNEH

  MUSHROOMS, SPINACH, RICE

  ORECCHIETTE, CAULIFLOWER, CHEESE

  PARSNIPS, CASHEWS, SPICES

  PEARL BARLEY, KALE, GOAT’S CHEESE

  POLENTA, GARLIC, MUSHROOMS

  POLENTA, THYME, TALEGGIO

  RICE, BROCCOLI, PAK CHOI

  RICE, LEMON, LIME

  SWEET POTATO, COCONUT MILK, CASHEWS

  TAGLIATELLE, DILL, MUSHROOMS

  TOMATO, CHILLIES, UDON

  Pudding

  APPLES, CINNAMON, PUFF PASTRY

  APPLES, GINGER CAKE, CUSTARD

  APPLES, OATS, CHOCOLATE

  APPLES, PEARS, RYE

  BANANAS, BUTTER, PUFF PASTRY

  CHOCOLATE, DRIED FRUIT, PISTACHIOS

  CHOCOLATE, DULCE DE LECHE, CANTUCCI

  CHOCOLATE, ORANGE ZEST, CANDIED PEEL

  DAMSON, ALMOND, SUNFLOWER SEEDS

  GINGER CAKE, CARDAMOM, MAPLE SYRUP

  HAZELNUTS, BLOOD ORANGES, RICOTTA

  ICE CREAM, CHOCOLATE, SHERRY

  CRANBERRY, MINCEMEAT, MERINGUE

  PAPAYA, PASSION FRUIT, MINT

  PEARS, RED WINE, PECORINO

  PUDDING RICE, ROSEWATER, APRICOTS

  SHERRY, BLOOD ORANGES, CREAM

  RICE, MILK, FIG JAM

  Index

  Acknowledgements

  A note on the brushstrokes

  A note on the type

  About the Author

  Also by Nigel Slater

  About the Publisher

  INTRODUCTION

  Dinner is different in winter. The change starts late on a summer’s evening, when you first notice the soft, familiar scent of distant woodsmoke in the sudden chill of the evening air. Then, a day or two later, a damp, mushroomy mist hovers over the gardens and parks. Later, you notice the leaves have turned silently from yellow ochre to walnut. Autumn is here once again. You may sigh, rejoice or open a bottle. For many, this is the end of their year. For me, this is when it starts, wh
en warmth, and bonhomie come to the fore. Energy returns.

  With the change of weather, supper takes on a more significant role. We are suddenly hungry. Once the nights draw in, I am no longer satisfied by plates of milky burrata and slices of sweet, apricot-fleshed melon. No more am I content with a bowl of couscous with peaches, soft cheese and herbs for dinner. What I crave now is food that is both cosseting and warming, substantial and deeply satisfying. Food that nourishes but also sets me up for going back out in the cold and wet. And yet, I still find my diet is heavily plant-based with less emphasis on meat. It is simply the way it has progressed over the years and shows little sign of abating.

  At the start of the longest half of the year, our appetite is pricked by the sudden drop in temperature, and as evenings get longer, we have the opportunity to spend a little more time in the kitchen. To mash beans into buttery clouds. Simmer vegetable stews to serve with bowls of couscous. To bring dishes of sweet potato to melting tenderness in spiced cream. And of course, the pasta jar comes out again.

  My cold weather eating is more substantial than the food I eat for the rest of the year. Dinner becomes about one main dish rather than several lighter ones, and the focus shifts towards keeping warm. On returning home I will now happily spend an hour cooking. Maybe a little longer.

  The oven gets more use at this time of year, the grill and griddle probably less. More food will come to the table in deep casseroles and pie dishes. I dig out my capacious ladle for a creamed celeriac soup as soft as velvet. The temperature of the plates and bowls will change. We want to hold things that warm our hands, a sign of the happiness to come.

  There will be carbs. They protect and energise us. They bring balm to our jagged nerves. (Winter is nature’s way of making us eat carbohydrates.) Crusts – of pastry, breadcrumbs and crumble – add substance; potatoes fill and satisfy and there is once again a huge sourdough loaf on the table. Rice and noodles are no longer a side dish, and now become the heart and soul of dinner.

  My autumn and winter cooking is every bit as plant-based as the food I make in the summer; it just has a bit more heft to it. Shallow bowls of rice cooked with milk and thyme in the style of a risotto. A verdant, filling soup of Brussels sprouts and blue cheese. A saffron-coloured stew of sour cream, herbs and noodles. Translucent fritters in a pool of melted cheese. Golden mushrooms astride a cloud of soft, yellow polenta. There is a tangle of noodles and tomato, peppery with chilli; roast parsnips and baked pumpkin; a wide earthenware dish of sweet potatoes and lentils glowing like a lantern, a herb-freckled crumble of leeks and tomato or swedes and thyme in a pastry crust and a tarte Tatin of soft golden shallots and autumn apples. It is all here, between these pumpkin-coloured covers.

  This is also the season for ‘something on toast’. By toast I mean not only bread cut thick and rough-edged, but toasted bagels and crumpets, muffins and naan. Any soft dough that will crisp under the grill and will support a cargo of vegetables or is happy to be slathered with a thick wave of crème fraîche or hummus, roast vegetables or perhaps cheese to melt and bubble.

  And, of course, there must be pudding. An early autumn crumble of damsons and almonds. Chocolate puddings (you really must make the ones with dulce de leche). Ginger cake with a cardamom cream and a custard pudding set with cake and apples. There will be nut-encrusted shortbreads with blood orange and baked apples with crisp crumbs and cranberries. I expect syllabubs and baked pears on the table, pastries laden with a golden dice of apples and scones pebble-dashed with nibs of dark chocolate.

  I probably eat more puddings during the cold months, but mainly at the weekend. The main course recipes in this book are predominantly for two; the puddings, though, are all for four or more. You can’t really make a tart for two or a tiny batch of scones. The recipes are made for sharing with friends and family. That said, most of them are rather fine eaten the following day. Especially those little chocolate puddings.

  A note on volume 1. Greenfeast: spring, summer.

  Like all my books, the first volume of Greenfeast was written from and about my own kitchen. That it found itself welcomed by quite so many came as something of a pleasant surprise. I have lost count of the number of people who in the last few months have told me that this is the way they eat now, as an ‘almost vegetarian.’

  The idea that so many people’s everyday eating is going through such a change and that meat is no longer our first thought when working out what we want to eat, is heartening to say the least. Apparently I am not the only person for whom meat is still looked forward to but as a once- or twice-a-week treat, not the knee-jerk star of every meal. I knew this was happening (you would have to live under a stone not to) but I genuinely hadn’t realised how widely and quickly the change has come about.

  Yes, vegan cooking and full-blown vegetarianism is on the rise, but there are far more people who seem to prefer a less rigid approach to their eating. This makes sense on so many levels, but when all is said and eaten it is simply that the options for cooking without meat have never been more varied or delicious. There has never been a better time to celebrate the move towards a mostly plant-based diet.

  WINTER STOCK

  A good vegetable stock is worth its weight in gold on a winter’s day. As the nights draw in, we probably need a stock altogether deeper, richer and more ballsy than the delicate, vegetal liquids we might use in summer. Something that behaves more like a brown meat stock. Such a broth is immensely useful in my kitchen as a base for the heartier non-meat recipes that form the backbone of my daily eating, but also as something restoring to drink as you might a cup of miso. The colour must be dark and glossy, the flavour deeply, mysteriously herbal with a hint of mushroom and there should be a roasted back note, the sort you find in a long-simmered meat stock.

  As you proceed, the kitchen will fill with the smell of onions, celery and carrots, which you roast with miso paste, then remove from the oven and simmer for a good hour with thyme, bay and shiitake. You could slip in a sheet of kombu for an extra layer of depth if you like.

  The broth will need straining and separating from its spent aromatics, its deep, almost mahogany liquor dripping slowly into a glass bowl. The liquor can be used immediately, or kept in the fridge, covered, for up to a week.

  Such a stock is a bowl of pure treasure. You can drink it like broth, dipping thick hunks of bread or focaccia into it; you can use it as base for a soup, adding steamed cauliflower or shredded cabbage, parsley and croutons, or add noodles, skeins of udon or little pasta stars to twinkle in the dark, mushroomy depths. Whenever the word ‘stock’ appears in a recipe, use it neat or let it down with a little water to taste. And it will freeze too, though I suggest in small containers, so it defrosts quickly.

  And when all is said and done, is there anything quite so restoring as coming home to a bowl of deeply layered, smoky stock, to bubble on the stove, to which you add pieces of hot toast, letting them slowly swell with the bosky, fungal, roasted flavours from the bowl.

  WINTER PORRIDGE

  A winter’s day should start well. A steaming bowl of something to see us on our way. I invariably choose porridge. An oat-based slop to satisfy and strengthen, to bolster and soothe, to see me through till I get where I’m going. A sort of internal duffel coat. I doubt it will just be porridge of course, but porridge with bells and whistles: a trickle of treacle, a pool of crème fraîche, ribbons of maple syrup or a puddle of yoghurt. There may be golden sultanas and dried mulberries, pistachios or toasted almonds and perhaps some baked figs or slices of banana.

  Porridge doesn’t necessary mean oats. You could use rye grain or barley and milk or water as you wish. There might be salt or sugar, cinnamon or ground cardamom or toasted pumpkin seeds. If I remember, there will be stewed fruit too: apples perhaps, or dried apricots cooked with sugar or honey. Porridge is never just porridge in my house. It is a winter staple, one of the building blocks of the season and something I could never think of being without.

  A BROWN VEG
ETABLE STOCK

  Deep flavours. A herbal, umami-rich stock for winter cooking.

  Makes about 2 litres

  onions, medium 2

  carrots 250g

  celery 2 sticks

  garlic a small, whole head

  light miso paste 3 tablespoons

  water 80ml, plus 3 litres

  dried shiitake mushrooms 50g

  rosemary 5 sprigs

  thyme 10 sprigs

  bay leaves 3

  black peppercorns 12

  dried kombu 10g

  Set the oven at 180°C/Gas 4. Peel and roughly chop the onions, then place in a roasting tin together with the skins. Similarly chop the carrots and celery sticks, then mix with the onions and the head of garlic, separated into cloves.

  Mix together the miso paste and 80ml of water, then stir into the vegetables, coating them lightly. Bake for about an hour, tossing the vegetables once or twice during cooking, until everything is brown, fragrant and toasty.

  Transfer the roasted vegetables and aromatics to a deep saucepan, add the shiitake, rosemary, thyme, bay, peppercorns and the sheets of kombu, then pour a little of the reserved water into the roasting tin, scrape at the sticky, caramelised bits stuck to the tin, then pour into the saucepan. Add the remaining water. Bring to the boil, then lower the heat and leave to simmer, partially covered with a lid, for fifty minutes to an hour.

  When you have a deep brown, richly coloured broth, tip through a sieve into a heatproof bowl or large jug and leave to cool. Refrigerate and use as necessary.

  • Keeps for up to one week in the fridge.

  OATS, DRIED MULBERRIES, DATE SYRUP

  The solace of porridge. The sweetness of dried fruits.

  Serves 2

  porridge oats 100g

  dried mulberries 50g

  golden sultanas 75g

  cream or crème fraîche 4 tablespoons

  date syrup 2 tablespoons

  Put the oats and 400ml of water into a small saucepan and bring them to the boil. Add a good pinch of salt and stir the oats continuously for four or five minutes with a wooden spoon until the porridge is thick and creamy.

  Divide between two bowls, then add the dried mulberries and golden sultanas. Add spoonfuls of crème fraîche, then trickle over the date syrup.