Me so salmon

I may have said this before, but sometimes cooking is crazy easy. People make a big deal of it, but get some fresh ingredients, let them speak for themselves, and as often as not you'll have a winner.



When one of those ingredients is salmon, there aren't many places better to be buying it than Seattle. Just look at that colour! Sushi grade - and don't think we weren't tempted, too.



Essentially this is an Asian poached salmon, and it really isn't any harder than it sounds. The broth is just stock mixed with miso paste, with some ginger, chili and lime leaves thrown in - we had to cut the fish in half, because who has a pan that big? Come on, Gordon.



Once the fish is cooked through, just let it rest for a few minutes in a little bit of the broth, while you gently cook - but not overcook! - the veggies in the remainder. Off camera, apparently.



Then you can go to town on the fish, flaking it into nice big chunks to drop back into the broth. There may or may not have been some chunks that went missing at this point.



And serve! Delicious, nutritious, easy, delicious. It ticks all four boxes.

Me gusta

We knew the miso salmon would be a tough act to follow, but if any dish was up to the challenge, it was spicy black beans with feta and avocado. What's not to like? My tummy's rumbling just thinking about it. (BTW, we just got free gin and tonics on the plane because the flight attendants skipped our row during service!)



As usual, we began by sauteeing onions and garlic, because that is how almost all succesful savory dishes start (and even some traditional English trifles). We added red chili for some kick and cumin and cinnamon to get some latin flavors developing.



Then we added some hearty black beans and let them cook down a bit.

Extreme close-up!



The recipe suggested using a liquidizer (British for blender?) to break down the beans even more, but we like things a little more on the rustic side. We also opted out of frying our tortillas to crisp them up like tostadas. Don't worry faithful readers - both steps were optional so we didn't deter from the recipe!

Oh snap, here comes my favorite part:



That is one sexy avocado.



Apparently all you have to do to make mushy food look appetizing is sprinkle cheese all over it and garnish with lime wedges. You could put avocado on pretty much anything and I would love it, but this was seriously yummy you guys. If you're like us and you eat Mexican two or three times a week, it's a nice upgrade from burritos and quesadillas. I'm pretty sure feta isn't a Mexican cheese, but I'm not complaining one bit.

That's a wrap

The good thing about lettuce wraps is they're so easy you hardly need to follow a recipe; the bad thing about lettuce wraps is they're so easy you hardly have anything to blog about later. Looks like this one's going to be short and sweet, folks.



In case you can't tell from the picture, both beef and pork were used. The recipe calls for the same amount of each, yet Gordon calls them chili beef lettuce wraps, so I guess we know where his loyalties lie. We were also supposed to find "little gem" lettuce and I still don't know what that is.



To make lettuce wraps, just saute a bunch of stuff, add meat, and spoon onto lettuce leaves.



There was a sauce too.

How do you solve a problem like a chutney?

(Rewriting this due to user error. The first version was really good, honest.)

Bit of a strange one today, in that it's not really a recipe for food - at least, it's not a main dish. Or a starter. Or a dessert. More of a condiment. And not one that we ever figured out what to do with. More on that later though.



There's a lot going on here from a flavour standpoint, and the sharp-eyed amongst you will have noticed that some of it is rather exotic: curry leaves, dried chilies, dried coconut, tamarind. And carrots. Should be interesting.



First up, the all important spice toast. In with the curry leaves, chilies, coriander, mustard seeds, cumin, and a good pinch of salt. You'll be aromatic in no time.



Then we throw in the onion and garlic to sweat down, before mixing in the tamarind and coconut. Intriguing smells are issuing from the pan, and we've really no idea where this is going.



Next we add the carrot - an awful lot of carrot, mind - and things start to get a little fishy. The next instruction is "Bring to the boil." Que? What exactly am I supposed to be boiling? Keep in mind that the only liquid in this recipe is 4-6 tablespoons of tamarind paste, along with whatever water the onion has released, all of which has been thrown in a pan with a lot of dessicated ingredients. Runneth over my cup does not.



Once my mixture has "boiled," it gets to "simmer" for a few minutes. Fortunately at this point I'm granted leave to add a few tablespoons of water "if necessary." It's necessary.



And this, well, this is our end result. Spicy chutney, he calls it. We've already established that Gordon's label of spicy should be taken with a grain of salt, and this is no exception. It is flavorful, certainly, it's by no means offensive - but what to do with it? Unfortunately we never figured that out, and I'm sorry to report that we found it a few weeks ago in the back of our fridge, growing a healthy crop of mould. Not what you would call a ringing endorsement.