Chris Simpson for The New York Times. Food stylist: Maggie Ruggiero. Prop stylist: Sophia Pappas.
Oyakodon is pure bliss, combining the ease of lightly poached chicken with the velvety richness of eggs and onions simmered in sauce. In Japanese, oya means parent, while ko translates to child. Consequently, chicken and egg come together in a blend of dashi, mirin and soy sauce. A perfect weekday meal, oyakodon cooks in just under 30 minutes and is delightful alongside pickles and a bowl of miso soup. The chicken and egg bowl is a dream of soulfulness ladled over rice. Leftovers, if you have any, will hold in the refrigerator for a day.
Note: The information shown is Edamam’s estimate based on available ingredients and preparation. It should not be considered a substitute for a professional nutritionist’s advice.
Meanwhile, stir chicken and sake in a bowl. In a measuring cup or bowl, stir dashi, mirin, soy sauce and sugar until sugar dissolves. Add more soy sauce or sugar to taste.
In a deep medium frying pan (or an oyakodon pan, if you have one), add dashi mixture and then onion. Bring to a simmer over medium-high, then add chicken in a single layer, making sure the dashi mixture covers the chicken and onion.
Bring the heat down to medium-low. Cook for 2 minutes, then flip each piece of chicken with a pair of cooking chopsticks or tongs. Continue cooking until chicken is just cooked through and onion has softened, about 3 minutes more.
In a measuring cup or small bowl, lightly beat eggs. Bring the heat up to medium, and add three-quarters of the eggs in a clockwise pattern over the chicken. Allow the mixture to simmer, swirling the pan to ensure the eggs cover it throughout. When the eggs are slightly set, around 1 minute, add the remaining eggs around the pan’s edges in a clockwise fashion. Once again, swirl the pan to ensure coverage.
Continue to cook the oyakodon to your preferred doneness (less than a minute or so is great), then add scallions (or mitsuba) to the pan.
Divide the rice among individual bowls, then slide enough of the oyakodon over the rice to cover. Serve immediately and sprinkle with togarashi if preferred.
Spaghetti primavera (the word means “spring” in Italian) is a dish that conjures up images of green shoots in the Villa Borghese and warming southern sunshine in the Bay of Naples. In reality, though, its roots lie in the somewhat chillier ground of eastern Canada. Or so it’s claimed: the origins of this Italian-American classic are as hazy as a glass of col fondo prosecco, but whether chef Sirio Maccione, co-owner of New York’s infamous Le Cirque, really came up with it during a hunting trip to Prince Edward Island, as he told the New York Times, or whether it was his wife’s invention, as he claimed in his subsequent memoir, by 1977, spaghetti primavera was, according to that same newspaper, “by far the most talked-about dish in Manhattan”.
It wasn’t long before this “mad jumble of vegetables over pasta” (as Amanda Hesser described it in the same pages three decades later) had migrated to more casual red sauce joints all over the States – and then, just as abruptly, it fell from favour, as such madly fashionable dishes often do. You can’t even get a primavera at Olive Garden these days. Thankfully, however, you can still make it at home – and when you do, you’ll understand why it was so popular.
The vegetables
Sadly, I’ve never been to Prince Edward Island in spring, or at any other time of year for that matter, but as the average April temperature is a mere 7C, the variety of vegetables in Le Cirque’s recipe, including courgettes, tomatoes, broccoli, white mushrooms and green beans, as well as the asparagus and peas more readily associated with the season, comes as something of a surprise. Delicious magazine introduces a baby leek to the party, Giuliano Hazan a diced red pepper, and J Kenji López-Alt broccolini, broad beans and sugar snap peas, writing that: “To make a dish that screams spring, I decided to load mine up with all the green vegetables I could find.” Peas, asparagus, broad beans and spinach feel quite enough to me, but feel free to vary this according to what’s good near you.
Sauteed mushrooms, like the carrot, onion and celery soffritto base employed by both Delicious and Hazan, give the dish a richer, deeper flavour that feels more autumnal, while the sweet and sour fresh tomato sauce that Le Cirque dollops on top give it a summery air, as do the cherry tomatoes employed by Cook’s Country magazine. Spring tastes more delicate to me – it’s a time of fresh, green leaves and tender legumes, rather than anything so bold as a tomato or pepper.
Both Le Cirque and López-Alt blanch each vegetable separately in boiling water, while Hazan, Delicious and Cook’s Country fry them instead, with the former’s Classic Pasta Cookbook lamenting that, though “this recipe has become very popular outside Italy … unfortunately [it] is rarely executed properly. The most common mistake is not to saute the vegetables enough, which is what concentrates their flavour.” Loth as I am to disagree with Mr Hazan, blanched vegetables taste fresher – though I’m not keen on the crunchiness of some of the green beans and asparagus, which makes the Cook’s Country recipe, in particular, feel more like a warm pasta salad. Some of the mushiest vegetables I’ve enjoyed have been in Italy, and while that’s not the aim here, there’s no shame in cooking them through properly.
The seasoning
Soft herbs feel aptly delicate and springy; I like the cool perfume of Cook’s Country’s mint, with a little of Le Cirque and López-Alt’s basil to finish, but you could also use parsley or chives. Instead of a yellow onion base, I’ve gone for the fresher-flavoured spring onion, inspired by Melissa Clark’s recipe for the New York Times – I haven’t included garlic, because it has a tendency to mask more delicate ingredients, but if you can find the new season wet kind, you might like to stick a couple of finely chopped cloves in there, too. I don’t think the dish particularly benefits from chilli (fresh in Le Cirque’s case, dried in the Cook’s Country recipe), but I do like López-Alt’s lemon zest, which lifts the dish without overwhelming it.
The sauce
The Le Cirque recipe features a cream and chicken stock-based sauce, yet of the others I try, only Hazan retains the cream element; López-Alt writes that: “I know that pasta primavera is supposed to have a rich, cream-based sauce, but no matter how much I adjusted the ratios of cream and cheese, I couldn’t get over the fact that the bright spring vegetables felt smothered and muted when served with a creamy sauce.” He substitutes Clark’s creme fraiche (which, with its 40% fat content, compared with double cream’s 48%, hardly feels like a light option, unless you go for one of the inferior, more watery versions sold in this country under the same name), Delicious leaves out the dairy altogether in favour of a vegetable stock and white wine reduction, while Cook’s Country works magic with courgettes. “By overcooking zucchini,” they write in Big Flavors from Italian America, “we were able to create a silky sauce that nicely coated our favourite spring vegetables without cream or butter.” This is a brilliant idea in theory, but in practice, you’d have to stew courgettes for a lot longer, and in a lot more oil than their recipe allows for a really sauce-like consistency, and even then, pleasing as that would be, it would be quite different thing from cream.
And I like cream. It has a delicate sweetness that, far from muting the vegetables, allows them to shine while enriching the dish as a whole – spring is not high summer, after all, and a little richness is still welcome at this time of year. A spritz of lemon juice stops it weighing down the dish as so many seem to fear (though you could, of course, go for creme fraiche, if that appeals, in which case you may not need the lemon juice at all), while a splash of the pasta cooking water loosens it without the need for stock, which I do think would muddy the waters. Tangy, creamy and green are all the flavour notes this dish needs.
The pasta
Le Cirque calls for spaghetti, Hazan for the slightly thicker, flatter fettuccine (a shape that in my experience seems particularly popular in America) and Delicious for fettuccine or pappardelle. Like López-Alt, I prefer the texture of fresh egg pasta here, but, from a practical viewpoint, I don’t find that any of those shapes works perfectly with the vegetables, which tumble from the strands, making it a dish of two halves. For me, a pasta that will hold the vegetables, such as a shell or tube, is the better bet here, even though these tend to be available only dried. Feel free to use a long, fresh pasta if you prefer.
To finish
As well as the herbs mentioned above, Le Cirque and López-Alt add a final scattering of toasted pine nuts, whose nutty sweetness is a nice pairing with the lemon and cream, but strictly optional. Cheese, however, is mandatory – I prefer Cook’s Country’s saltier, tangier pecorino to the more usual, more richly flavoured parmesan, but either will be fine, as will a vegetarian alternative. Better than fine, in fact: it will be delicious.
Perfect pasta primavera
Prep 15 min
Cook 15 min
Serves 4
400g asparagus
Salt and black pepper
160g spinach, shredded if large 80g podded broad beans (frozen are fine) 80g shelled peas (frozen are fine) 400g pasta shells (conchiglie or conchiglioni, say), or tubes (rigatoni, penne, tortiglioni, etc) 40g pine nuts
75g butter
4 spring onions, chopped 160ml double cream
Zest and juice of ½ lemon
1 small bunch fresh mint
1 small bunch fresh basil Pecorino romano, to finish
Bring a medium pan of water to a boil and put a colander in a clean sink of cold water (or fill a large bowl with cold water).
Snap the woody ends off the asparagus and cut the spears into short lengths. Salt the boiling water, then drop the spinach, beans and peas in the pan, blanch for a minute, then scoop out with a slotted spoon and refresh in the cold water. Cook the asparagus in the same pan for about four minutes, depending on its thickness, until just tender, then add to the rest of the blanched veg.
Bring a large pan of salted water to a boil for the pasta. Meanwhile, drain the vegetables and dry them on kitchen towel, squeezing out as much water from the spinach as possible. Peel the broad beans, unless they’re very young (or you’re not fussed).
Put the pasta on to boil. Meanwhile, toast the pine nuts in a small pan until lightly golden, then set aside.
Once the pasta is almost done, melt the butter in a frying pan on a low heat and briefly fry the spring onions until softened.
Pour in the cream, bring to a simmer, then add the lemon zest and juice to taste. Loosen the cream with a little of the pasta cooking water, taste and adjust the seasoning, if necessary, then add the blanched vegetables and toss to coat.
Drain the pasta well, add to the pan and toss until it’s all coated with sauce. Scatter over the roughly torn mint and basil leaves, divide between plates, top liberally with the toasted pine nuts and grated cheese, and serve.
Pasta primavera: which ingredients sing of spring to you (and are you lucky enough to have morels to add?)? And does anyone have any memories of the dish in its heyday, prepared tableside at Le Cirque or elsewhere?
Your fridge’s crisper drawer is the first kitchen skill worth cracking. Even if you’ve grown to refer to yours as “the rotter” where that hopeful haul of herbage snapped up at the shops in a spontaneous “health kick” goes to die. Especially so!
Rather than letting your vegetables gloop and congeal, extend their lives. And if they start to look a little lank, there’s a tasty way to transform them into a midweek marvel.
The first thing to note is that fruit and vegetables are like families – some members get along better than others. Soft herbs, leaves and brassicas are tetchy. Leave them near ethylene-emitting produce (ie most fruits) and they’ll turn yellow and shrivel and curl in on themselves. As a rule of thumb, cold-weather veg get priority in the crisper, because the crisper is closest to their natural habitat.
Brassicas: wrap them up
Brassicas – such as kale, cauliflower, broccoli, cabbage and brussels sprouts – prefer to breathe, so anything airtight will do more harm than good. Wrap them in damp kitchen towel, then bag loosely.
Larger cruciferous vegetables such as cabbage and wombok have their own natural wrapping in the form of their outer leaves. If you’re not using it all at once, remember to rewrap in damp towel or the cut side will discolour and dry out.
If you’ve scored rootier brassica such as radishes, turnips and daikon with their tops still attached, it’s best to divide and conquer. Cut off the leafy tops as they have a propensity to suck the life out of the main bulb of the vegetable. The bulb goes in the crisper, but don’t throw out the tops – they’re delicious. Place in a bag, store on the fridge shelf and treat them like rocket. Just make sure you give them an extremely judicious wash, as they tend to be gritty.
Root vegetables: keep the tops
Hardier root vegetables such as carrots and beetroot do best in the crisper too. If you’re running low on space, bag and pop on the shelf above though. As for the tops, leafy carrot tops are akin to a peppery parsley, and beetroot tops are quite like silverbeet.
Nightshades: keep out
Nightshades such as tomatoes, capsicums and eggplants are warmer-weather veg and fare best away from the crisper. Potatoes are particularly fridge-phobic, as this exposes them to too much light, dries them out and changes their starch structure (a good thing only if you’re making gnocchi). Keep them in a cool, dry place away from direct sunlight – unless you live in a hot climate, in which case paper-bagging and refrigerating is the lesser of two evils.
Onions: keep them away from potatoes
While we’re on spuds, remember those feuding family members I mentioned? It’s a terrible idea to store onions and potatoes in the same place – they will tear each other down. If your potatoes are in the pantry, paper-bag your onions and place in the crisper; if your spuds are in the fridge, store onions in the pantry.
Herbs and leaves: keep them in a box
To store soft herbs and lettuce leaves, wash and spin-dry, then wrap in damp paper towel, pop in an airtight container or calico bag and place on the shelf above the crisper.
Fruits: keep them out of the cold
It’s best to store fruit (except perhaps berries) outside of the fridge entirely. Not only is it better for ripening, but fruit tastes better at room temperature and there’s less risk of fridge odours or dehydration ruining softer fruits. There may be circumstances when refrigeration is necessary, like if you live in the tropics or the fruit is on the turn. In this case, try storing fruit on the shelf above the crisper, or place in reusable bags to keep the “fruit farts” on lock.
A final tip
Ultimately, the best way to prevent your crisper from becoming a vegetable graveyard is to keep things moving. Whenever you bring home a haul from the shops or markets, remove your older produce from the crisper. Wipe the bottom with a little white vinegar, pop in the new vegetables first, then put older produce on top. This will encourage you to use up everything you’ve got, no matter how wilty – because it all comes out in the wash (or simmer!) in “crisper soup” recipes like shchi.
Shchi – recipe
Shchi (pronounced “she”) is essentially a cabbage soup whose etymology stems from the old Slavic siitii, the plural form of satiety or satisfaction. It’s quite literally the soup of mass satisfaction. Growing up, a big pot of this or borsch was Mum’s standing Sunday simmer – it was cost- and time-effective, and a bowl of either soup was her guarantee we’d be nourished.
Think of shchi as white borsch, where the beetroot has been subbed out for earthy sweet vegetables such as swede or turnip, and the acid amped up with apple cider vinegar. If you have some brine from dill pickles or kraut, feel free to use this instead of the vinegar. Kimchi brine would also be a welcome addition if you want a little heat.
I’ve kept this recipe fully plant-based but if you’d prefer more richness, foam in a knub of butter with the oil when sweating the veg, and use chicken stock. If you’re using a commercial stock, taste the soup before adding any extra seasoning as some stocks can be quite salty. And don’t forget to collect all of the vegetable trim and peels (except the cabbage) and pop into a bag in the freezer, ready to make more stock for your next shchi.
The flavour of the shchi gets better overnight and will happily last in the fridge for five to seven days – just in time for your next crisper clearout.
Makes 8-10 serves
¼ cup olive oil 1 brown onion, halved and finely sliced 1 small fennel, bulb halved and thinly sliced all the way up to the stalks, fronds reserved 1 large carrot, roughly chopped 3-4 cloves garlic, finely sliced ½ bunch dill, stalks and fronds chopped, finer fronds reserved for garnish ¼cup apple cider vinegar 1 large turnip or swede (or 2-3 smaller ones), roughly chopped 2 waxy potatoes, such as nicola or desiree, roughly chopped into 2cm cubes (300g) 2 bay leaves, fresh or dried 500ml vegetable stock
1.5 litres water (preferably filtered) ¼ small white cabbage, finely sliced Sour cream and extra-virgin olive oil, to serve
Heat a heavy-based Dutch oven or large pot on medium heat. Add the olive oil, onion, sliced fennel bulb and carrot, wait for it to sizzle, then lower the heat to medium-low and cover with the lid for 10 minutes, stirring occasionally. Once the fennel and carrot have softened and the onion is translucent, add the garlic and dill stalks, stir and cook until fragrant (about two minutes).
Deglaze the pan with the apple cider vinegar, then add the turnip (or swede, if using), potatoes and bay leaves. Pour in the stock and water, bring to the boil, then lower to a simmer and cook for about 25 to 30 minutes until the potatoes are fork-tender.
Add the cabbage and most of the dill and fennel fronds (keeping some of the finer fronds for garnish). Stir to combine, then turn off the heat, cover and let the cabbage cook in the residual heat for 10 to 15 minutes. Season with salt and pepper to taste.
To serve, ladle into soup bowls and add a dollop of sour cream, garnishing with reserved dill and fennel fronds. Finish with a drizzle of olive oil and a sprinkle of salt and freshly cracked pepper.
Article From & Read More ( Is your fridge a vegetable graveyard? How to revive dead produce into crisper soup - The Guardian )
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Ithink of these as Jaffa Cakes for grownups. Preheat the oven to 220C/gas mark 7. Cut 100g of butter into small pieces and put them in the bowl of a food mixer. Add 100g of caster sugar and a couple of drops of vanilla extract then beat until soft and fluffy, regularly pushing the mixture down the sides of the bowl with a rubber spatula.
Break 2 large eggs into a small bowl and beat lightly with a fork or small whisk. Introduce the beaten egg to the butter and sugar mixture a little at a time. Stir in 50g of self-raising flour and 50g ground almonds.
Divide the mixture between 12 madeleine tins or small cupcake cases. Bake for about 10-12 minutes. They are ready when they are lightly firm to the touch.
Remove the madeleines from their tins with a small palette knife and place on a cooling rack. Meanwhile, in a small pan, melt 150g of orange marmalade with 1 tbsp of water and a couple of drops of orange flower water. Brush the cakes generously with the marmalade.
In a small bowl resting over a pan of simmering water, melt 80g of dark chocolate without stirring. Trickle the melted chocolate over the madeleines and leave until the chocolate has set before serving. Makes 10
White chocolate would work well in place of the dark, its extra sweetness is a nice contrast to the marmalade.
Apricot jam, sieved if it has large pieces of fruit in it, is an excellent substitute for the orange marmalade.
As the chocolate melts, push any unmelted chocolate down into the liquid chocolate with a spoon, rather than stirring it, which can cause the chocolate to seize.
For the pastry: 125g plain flour, 6p (70p/1.5kg, Asda)
A pinch of salt, <1p (65p/750g, Asda)
25g soft spread, 5p (99p/500g, Asda)
25g lard, 5p (50p/250g, Asda)
2 tbsp cold water
For the filling: 125ml whole milk, 15p (£1.20/1l, Asda)
175g full-fat cream cheese, 73p (83p/200g at Tesco or £1.25/300g at Asda)
2 medium eggs, 35p (£2.10/12, Asda)
1 tsp mixed dried herbs, 3p (40p/18g, Asda)
A pinch of salt, <1p (65p/750g, Asda)
Plenty of black pepper, <1p (£1/100g, TRS)
100g cheddar cheese, 70p (£2.79/400g, Tesco or Asda)
120g frozen spinach, 21p (£1.50/850g, Asda)
75g frozen peas, 8p (£1.75/1.6kg, Tesco)
First, make your pastry. If you have a sieve, sieve the flour and salt together in a bowl, but if you don’t, don’t worry, just decant them straight in, it’ll be fine. Add the soft spread, and the lard, and rub the fats into the flour and salt until it comes together in a crumbly, breadcrumb-like texture. Add the cold water a drop at a time, and mix in with either a fork or spoon handle, or a flat-edged butter knife, to bring it together into a dough.
Turn the dough out on to a lightly floured or lightly oiled clean work surface and knead briefly, for a minute at most, for an even texture, then transfer it back into the bowl. Cover it with clingfilm, or transfer it into a food storage bag, and chill it in the fridge for about 45 minutes to firm up.
Pop the frozen peas and spinach in a microwave-safe bowl and ping for a minute on a high heat to defrost them. Stir together, and set to one side to cool while the pastry chills.
When the pastry has chilled, lightly flour your work surface and roll it out to form a circle that’s slightly bigger than your baking tin; it should be around half a centimetre thick and as even as possible.
Lightly oil your tin with the lightest of touches, and carefully place the pastry into it, taking care not to rip it. If any small tears are made – it can be a fiddly process if you’re not an experienced pastry cook, and I certainly am not one! – you can press them back together gently with your fingertips to reseal them. Cover and chill for a further 30 minutes to firm it up, then trim away any excess at the edges.
Heat your oven to 190C/Gas Mark 5, and line the pastry loosely with greaseproof paper, baking parchment or tinfoil. Scatter baking beans into it to weigh it down and prevent the edges from slinking into the base. If you don’t have any baking beans, you can use any hefty dried beans, like chickpeas, cannellini beans or butter beans, to pin the pastry to the tin. Make sure you get them into the corners and the edges to hold the pastry in place.
Blind bake the pastry case for 15 minutes in the centre of the oven.
While the pastry case is baking, make the filling. Measure the milk into a mixing bowl, and add the eggs, cream cheese, mixed herbs, salt and pepper. Beat well with a fork to combine evenly. Grate the cheese finely, and set to one side for now.
When the pastry is baked, turn the oven down to Gas Mark 3/165C.
Scatter half of the cheese into the base of the pastry case, then add the spinach and peas, carefully distributing them evenly across the base. Pour over the liquid mixture, and top with the remaining cheese. Finish with a pinch or two of pepper.
Bake in the centre of the oven for 25-30 minutes, until golden and fairly firmly set. Remove from the oven and allow to cool for 5-10 minutes before carefully removing from the tin, and serve hot, warm, or cold.
It will keep in the fridge, covered, for up to three days.
Alternatives:
For vegetarians, replace the lard with more soft spread or butter.
If you’re dairy intolerant or allergic, use whole oat milk in place of the whole milk, and a vegan or dairy-free firm cheese alternative – there are plenty available in mainstream supermarkets these days, and most of them are pretty delicious and work very well. I like the Applewood smoked vegan cheese, and Violife mozzarella – both melt very well and have excellent structural integrity, as well as being delicious.
Spring is full of vibrant, colourful veg, such as beetroot, carrots, rhubarb, rocket, spring onion and watercress. Today’s dishes are great for impressing vegetarian friends or family, or if you simply want a meat-free dish without feeling as if you’re missing out. If you don’t want to use tofu, swap it for crunchy veg, such as carrot, asparagus or spring cabbage, to create a contrasting texture for the noodles.
Peanut vegetable noodles (pictured top)
This is a must-try for those who say they hate tofu. It’s not the easiest protein to cook, but if you get it right, it’s a winner. Make sure you buy the firm variety, which has a lot of the water extracted, making it crisp up into a lovely, golden colour with a silky texture. Tofu is also renowned for not tasting of very much, but that’s where the peanut sauce here really comes into its own, while the curry powder takes things to another level.
Prep 10 min Dry 15-20 min
Cook 25 min
Serves 4
1 x400g block firm tofu
3 nests egg noodles
4tbsp smooth peanut butter 1 vegetable stock cube, crumbled2tbsp cornflour
1 tsp medium curry powder Salt and freshly ground black pepper
2tbsp vegetable oil 2 garlic cloves, peeled and thinly sliced 4 spring onions, white parts thickly sliced, green ends finely chopped 1 carrot, peeled and cut into thin strips Soy sauce, to taste (optional)
Dice the tofu into small cubes, and put on a tray lined with kitchen paper. Put another sheet of kitchen paper on top, pat the pieces dry, and leave for 15-20 minutes.
Cook the noodles according to the packet instructions – this usually involves pouring hot water straight from the kettle over the noodles in a bowl, and leaving them to stand for about 10 minutes. Reserve half a cup of the cooking water, then drain the noodles.
In a small bowl, make a paste by mixing the peanut butter, crumbled stock cube and reserved hot noodle water, then set aside.
Back to the now well-drained tofu. Mix the cornflour and curry powder in a small bowl, and season. Put the tofu in a bowl, scatter over the curry powder mixture and toss to coat evenly.
Put a tablespoon of oil in a large, nonstick pan on a medium-high heat and, when it’s hot, fry the tofu for two or three minutes, turning, until the outside of the cubes are golden and crisp all over. Transfer to a tray lined with kitchen roll to drain.
Return the pan to a medium-high heat, add another tablespoon of vegetable oil, then stir in the garlic, the spring onion whites and the carrot strips, and stir-fry for two to three minutes.
Add the peanut paste, stir well and stir-fry for two to three minutes more. Add the drained noodles, toss to coat in the sauce, then stir through the crisp tofu. Adjust the seasoning with a little soy sauce, if desired, then serve garnished with the sliced spring onion greens.
Creamy vegetable spaghetti
This easy, filling and affordable recipe can be ready on the table in just 15 minutes – perfect for when you have hungry mouths to feed. It’s also a great dish to double up to serve eight if you’re having friends and family over at the last minute. The addition of ribbons of veg such as carrot or courgette is a really easy way of getting your vegetable intake in and, once they’re coated in the rich, creamy, cheesy sauce, I guarantee the kids won’t even notice.
Prep 10 min
Cook 15 min
Serves 4
Salt and freshly ground black pepper 500g dried spaghetti
1 large courgette
1 large carrot, peeled 1tbsp vegetable oil
1 garlic clove, peeled and finely chopped 100g cream cheese
40gcheddar, grated
Bring a large saucepan of salted water to a boil, add the spaghetti and cook for 10-12 minutes, until al dente. Reserve 125ml of the cooking water, then drain the spaghetti in a colander.
Meanwhile, use a vegetable peeler to shave long strips along the length of both the courgette and the carrot, until you have a pile of ribbons for each.
Put the oil in a large, nonstick frying pan on a medium heat and, once it’s hot, add the garlic and cook for a minute. Add the vegetable ribbons and cook, stirring regularly, for about three minutes, until they soften.
Pour the reserved pasta water into the pan, followed by the cream cheese and cheddar, then gently stir to combine, so the mixture warms through and the cheese melts. Add the drained spaghetti to the pan, toss to coat in the cheesy sauce, then season with freshly ground black pepper and serve.
Follow @FullTimeMeals for more filling, budget-friendly recipes from Tom Kerridge.
Whether served at grand banquets or celebratory street parties, coronation food offers a reflection of the time or a first glimpse into the values of the newly crowned monarch.
Coronation ceremonies for the monarchs of England, Britain and the United Kingdom have a history stretching back more than 1,000 years. While much has changed in that time, one thing has remained constant: food has played a part in the crowning of the new king or queen. Whether it's being served on gilt plates at grand banquets or on trestle tables at celebratory street parties, coronation food has its own fascinating story and can offer a reflection of the time or a first glimpse into the values of the newly crowned king or queen.
An extreme example of excess is the coronation banquet of King George IV. Famous for his extravagant lifestyle and racking up eyewatering debts, his coronation, held on 19 July 1821, was the most expensive in history, costing the equivalent of more than £20,000,000 in today's money.
In Westminster Hall, now the oldest remaining part of the original Houses of Parliament, the king and 300 of the most important guests dined under the gaze of thousands of spectators sitting on specially constructed platforms. Dining elsewhere in the palace were 1,300 other guests. French-style cuisine was served from temporary kitchens constructed to cope with the quantity of food, and the king's table alone had more than 70 dishes over three courses. In total, the guests ate 7.3 tonnes of beef, veal and lamb, more than 1,600 chickens and 8,400 eggs.
Although, as might be expected at an event of this scale, not everything went to plan. The division of huge numbers of people watching a sumptuous feast play out turned out to be a recipe for disaster. After the king left, the spectators descended from their stands and began to eat the leftover food and attempted to take the ornate cutlery, plates and table decorations.
Although coronation banquets had historically been extravagant affairs, King George IV's was the high-water mark. It was the last to be held in Westminster Hall, and William IV's coronation 10 years later didn't feature a banquet at all to economise after George IV's extravagant reign.
Coronation chicken vol-au-vents served at a reception for Britain's Queen Elizabeth II (Credit: Joe Giddens/Getty Images)
In contrast, away from the pomp and circumstance of royal banquets, street parties are a centuries-old way for communities to celebrate a coronation with food and drink.
With the nation still suffering from austerity after the end of World War Two and with some rationing still in place, the coronation of Queen Elizabeth II on 2 June 1953 gave the people an opportunity to come together and celebrate. Thousands of street parties took place up and down the nation, and a bonus ration of one pound of sugar and a quarter of a pound of margarine was distributed over the coronation period so people could make celebratory dishes. Sandwiches with butter, tinned meat or fish would have been popular, and cakes, biscuits, ice cream, soft drinks and jellies were all specifically mentioned in Parliament as being in great demand.
Coronation Chicken, a future street-party favourite, was created for an official lunch of 350 foreign representatives invited to attend Elizabeth II's coronation. The dish, made from chicken poached in water and a little white wine with a sauce containing cream, mayonnaise, red wine and curry powder, was created by Rosemary Hume, Constance Spry and the students at their cookery school, Le Cordon Bleu London.
Spry described the recipe as having a delicate and nut-like flavour and it would have been a luxury at the time due to the expense of many of the ingredients. It exploded in popularity in the 1970s and '80s, and the original recipe has since been reworked many times by celebrity chefs. It can still be found across the UK, although most commonly as a sandwich filling rather than a dish in its own right.
The recipe for coronation chicken printed in The Constance Spry Cookery Book (Credit: Chris Radburn/Getty Images)
Food historian Dr Annie Gray commented that "Coronation food reflects the tastes of the time, in that it is cooked by chefs of a time, with equipment of a time and for people of a particular time." She continued, "Let's also not forget the audience for [coronation] feasts – up until the current monarch [King Charles III], very few people other than the invited guests would have known what was on the menu. This coronation is much more overtly inclusive and therefore carries with it a real opportunity for the new monarch to show his credentials and ethos in the food."
Street parties are set to feature in the coronation of King Charles III and Queen Camilla on 6 May 2023, with the community party planning scheme The Big Lunch providing a coronation party planning pack as part of the official celebrations. The official Coronation website also provides several recipes as inspiration for Coronation Big Lunches, street parties and other celebrations. These include Ken Hom's Coronation Roast Rack of Lamb with Asian-style Marinade, Nadiya Hussain's Coronation Aubergine, Gregg Wallace's Prawn Tacos with Pineapple Salsa, Adam Handling's Strawberry and Ginger Trifle and Martha Collison's Coronation Crown Scones.
King Charles has been outspoken about his support for organic British food, and in the selected dishes, there's a nod to traditionalism with a trifle, a vegetarian choice with a Coronation Chicken-inspired sauce in Hussain's aubergine recipe, and Hom's fusion of English and Asian flavours suggests a celebration of the evolution of British food. The official Coronation Quiche recipe for King Charles III's crowning, by Royal Chef Mark Flanagan, contains spinach, broad beans and tarragon, which is likely a nod to his sustainable agriculture commitment and his purported affinity for eggs and cheese.
Speaking about being invited to contribute a recipe for the official celebrations, chef and restauranteur Adam Handling said, "It's a real honour to have created a recipe for the coronation; it's an iconic moment in our history and I hope lots of people will be celebrating with this recipe."
The coronation of Queen Elizabeth II on 2 June 1953 gave the people an opportunity to come together (Credit: Amoret Tanner/Alamy)
Ken Hom OBE, whose BBC series Ken Hom's Chinese Cookery was instrumental in showing the British how to cook Asian food, spoke about what his recipe represents, saying, "I feel and think my recipe reflects the deep profound changes in British food culture. Former exotic ingredients such as soy sauce are now part of the British pantry. I remember when I worked on my first BBC series in the early '80s, I always added a caveat, if you can't find the authentic Chinese ingredient, you can substitute this. Of course, this is no longer the case. British food culture has embraced the world and it has become enriched. British food is modern world food."
Commenting on the recipes, Gray said, "I admire [the recipe] choices – very carefully chosen in terms of both the food and the named chefs ostensibly behind them… a vegetarian dish, a trifle which we know is popular based on the Jubilee pudding competition, and lamb which is always seen as celebratory. Regional links, global links, seasonal links – it's all there and is a good reflection of Charles III's stated food ethics."
You can find out more about each of the coronation recipes below, including tips on making them:
BBC.com'sWorld's Table"smashes the kitchen ceiling" by changing the way the world thinks about food, through the past, present and future.
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