Black Bean & Butternut Squash Chilli

I don't really like butternut squash. But it's one of those things that come up all the time when you're looking for vegetarian or vegan recipes, and I thought it was probably high time I got over this dislike. There's not much I can eat now dammit; I'm slowly realising this as I approach Day 8 of veganism. Any limitations on what I actually like should be (s)quashed. 

If I'm going to eat squash, then it needs some bold ballsy flavours to help me along with it. I attended the launch of a new Mexican chilli sauce called Gran Luchito; its deep smoky spiciness seemed to be the perfect foil for this sweet squash. Made with Oaxacan pasilla chillis which have been smoked to dry them, the sauce is sweet and addictive. I resisted temptation to use it all in a mezcal bloody mary. That's for the weekend. You can buy it here.

I won't lie, this is one spicy mother. With no sour cream to temper the flames, I made a chilli-less guacamole to try and offset the burn. It worked, for a while. The sweetness of the squash actually works really well here, balancing out the rich black beans in its tomatoey sauce. I brushed some flour tortillas with oil and grilled them until crisp to make a pretty damn fine lunch. The squash was edible, which is pretty high praise for the squash-dodger I am. You won't get me eating the root of all evil though, those cursed sweet potatoes.

Black Bean & Butternut Squash Chilli

Serves 4

1 tetra pack of black beans in water (I used Sainsburys Organic)
Half a butter nut squash, peeled and chopped into chunks
1 chipotle in adobo, or a chipotle chilli rehydrated in hot water and minced
1 onion
1 carrot
1 rib of celery
3 cloves of garlic
2 tbsp Gran Luchito smoked chilli tapenade (or substitute for another chipotle, and a tsp sugar)
1 tsp ground cumin
1 can of peeled plum tomatoes
1/2 tsp salt
1 tsp sugar 

Dice the onion, celery and carrot. Mince the garlic. Fry them in a little oil in a saucepan, then add the chillis & sauce until the onion has softened and then add the cumin. Add the black beans with their water, and bring to a simmer. Stir in the butternut squash chunks, then add the tomatoes.

Add the salt and sugar and then simmer gently for 35 - 40 minutes. Stir occasionally - if it's looking a little dry pop the lid on and lower the heat some more. 

Serve with rice or tortillas as described above, with guacamole. 

Sagar Vegetarian, Fitzrovia

It was Day 2. Friday night, we'd had some ciders (Stowford Press is vegan, hooray!) and we needed to eat. Normally, a curry you'd think would be quite safe - just have the vegetable curries and hold the yoghurt, right? Except they may have been cooked in ghee. It's a minefield. Happily though, Sagar Vegetarian, a South Indian restaurant with 3 branches around London is vegan-friendly and we headed there for some much needed sustenance. I was feeling weak and light-headed. 

The menu is vast and informative, with wheat free, nut free, onion and garlic free menus available online. The 8 of us ordered a mish-mash of dishes and hoped for the best. On the waiter's advice, a couple of dosas (opening picture) were ordered and they were a golden pancake stuffed with potatoes and onions. The pancake was crispy, the potatoey innards creamy in texture and spiced. Creamy! Oh joy. A thin curry sauce was surprisingly spicy, and the red coconut sambal tempered it somewhat. Kancheepuram Idli (above) was a steamed rice and lentil patty, again with the red coconut chutney and the curry sauce. Surprisingly light, this was a hit with the table, especially with the green spicy coconut.

Pani Puri, from the Bombay Chowpatti Special section, were DIY. Crispy hollow spheres were served with a thin sour broth with chickpeas - you poke a hole into them, fill it with chickpeas and a little of that broth and then pop it in your mouth whole to burst like a balloon. They were a nice little mouthful. Sev puri, as above but topped with onions and garlic and a yoghurt sauce were hoovered up quick smart by those still able to eat dairy.

Okra, aubergine and chick pea masalas were also ordered to go with some garlic rice and were deftly scooped up by puffy pooris (below). Onion and chilli uthappam was described as a 'rice and lentil pizza' but it was more like a flatbread, and our waiter warned us it would be spicy; indeed, with all of the dishes they didn't hold back with the spicing, and we were pleased for it. Brows became a little clammy and sniffles were heard around the table.

Washed down with a couple of beers and a few bottles of wine, we ate handsomely for £22 a head. All of the table claimed they didn't miss the meat and I agree; it was tasty stuff, and we didn't have to go through the awkwardness of "er, is this... vegan?" Post vegan-madness, I'll still be going back. Maybe this veganism thing isn't so bad after all. (I dreamt of feta cheese last night.)

Sagar Vegetarian
17A Percy Street
London W1T 1DU

Tel: 020 7631 3319

Potato, Onion & Anchovy Bake

Last month John Lewis asked me to submit a recipe for their Delicious Magazine Hotpoint fridge competition which is now live; the brief was to create something that can be made with all the odds and ends you find in your fridge. With Vegan Month swiftly approaching, I made hasty use of the leftover anchovies swimming about in oil and the tub of cream that was near its souring date. A comforting bake of thinly sliced potatoes, softened onions and cream was perfect for the Autumnal weather; a sprinkling of dill throughout each layer gave it some fragrance. 

It's fairly important to keep the slices of the potato thin, so that you get a nice layering effect. The anchovies dissolve into the cream to add a savoury yet not fishy tinge, and the softened onions some sweetness.

Serve this as the main dish - it's too tasty to be a side - with a tangle of salad leaves dressed in a mustardy dressing. You need something sharp to cut through the creaminess of the bake. If you haven't got dill to hand, chopped parsley or sprigs of thyme might work nicely too. I shall spend November revelling in the memory of how deliciously, waist-expandingly rich this was.

Potato, Onion & Anchovy Bake

Serves 4

4 medium floury potatos
2 white onions
12 anchovy fillets in oil
A handful of fresh dill
300ml double cream
100ml milk
2tbsp vegetable oil
1 tsp sherry vinegar
1 tsp sugar
50gr butter
Salt & pepper

Preheat the oven to 200 degrees C. Slice the onions into half moon shapes and slowly fry in the oil with the sugar and vinegar in a non-stick pan. Meanwhile, slice the potatoes thinly, to the thickness of a 10p piece - a mandolin does this easiest, or a steady hand and a sharp knife.

Heat the milk and cream on the stove. Layer a casserole or pie dish with a layer of potato slices - some of them can overlap. Season generously with pepper and lay 3 anchovies evenly across the potatoes. Scatter with dill and place a quarter of the onions on top. Cover with some of the cream mixture and top with more potato slices and the rest of the onions and anchovies and the cream to create four or so layers in total, pressing them down as you go. The top layer should be potato slices. Dot with butter and place in the oven. 

Bake for an hour, remove from the oven and leave to rest for 10 minutes. Serve with a green salad.

To browse John Lewis' range of cookware and fridges, visit their website.
In case it wasn't obvious, I was paid a fee for this recipe.

Beard to Tail, Shoreditch

The 'last meaty meal' had to be an epic one. No more meat for a month? There was a sombre sense of occasion yet one of excitement at the impending meat sweats. On paper, Beard to Tail sounds pretty awesome. The menu is a meat-lover's dream, the cocktail list expertly crafted - and you'd hope so too, coming as it has done from the people behind Calloo Callay.  

The reality isn't as rosy, alas. The cavernous restaurant space is oh-so-very-Shoreditch with exposed silver extraction tunnels and brick walls galore. We were wedged into a row of awkward first-daters in two-seater tables by the kitchen. We ordered 'meaty fingers' from the snacks menu while we decided on what to eat and were taken aback when rectangles of toast arrived. I can only imagine they were fried in dripping / some sort of animal fat to give them their name, but they were not the sticks of meat I was hoping for. 

Black pudding and deep fried hen's egg salad was not a salad. It was two wedges of black pudding, surrounded by cubes of potato and topped with an (admittedly good) soft egg with a crispy coating. Three wispy micro-leaves and some fried red onions dotted about the plate. It's as if they ran out of salad leaves, or you know, vegetables and they thought 'sod it, just wang some potato bits on there'. The meat on a half rack of ribs were slow-cooked to a texture suitable for a geriatric, while the grilled corn on the cob was tough and on the dry side. The marinade on the ribs were incredibly salty (rather a theme for the meal) and the accompanying sauce incredibly sweet.

My main course of sweet-cured pork chop with cockles, apple and sage was so salty it was inedible. I struggled with a few bites but I had to abandon it for fear of my insides shrivelling up like a raisin. When the waitress came to ask how we were doing, I told her of my woes but declined the replacement offered. Pulled featherblade of beef (pictured) with a green hollandaise sauce was quite enormous, sloppy and served rather bizarrely in a huge lettuce cup on a wooden board. Grilled courgettes and green peppers made a boring vegetable element, and the aforementioned hollandaise managed to taste of pretty much nothing. Floury, doughy flatbreads were left untouched. Sides of 'Eastside slaw' was a cup of textured brine, for three and a half of your English pounds, though the battered potato scallops were pretty good. 

I was a bit surprised to see the Salt Bomb dish appear on the bill and I had to ask our waitress to remove the offending item, which after a discussion with her manager, happened. All was not lost though I suppose - the cocktails, at least, are good. At a total of £90 including two cocktails each and a shared dessert, it's not bank busting but it did leave a disappointed (and salty. Did I mention the salt? So much salt.) taste in our mouths. 

Beard to Tail

77 Curtain Road
EC2A 3BS

Tel: 020 7729 2966

I'm Going Vegan... For November.

I'm not in the habit of posting pictures of myself, I PROMISE. It won't happen again. But this is the only decent picture I could find of the 1.2kg steak I ate in under 20 minutes. 

So I'm going vegan for November. I can't put my finger on one reason I decided to do this; it's certainly not PETA-related and I haven't started wearing hemp. Perhaps I'm bored and wanted a new challenge? Perhaps I know I eat too much meat and drastically went the other way. Or perhaps I was bullied into it by the person doing it with me. 

Either way, I'm attempting it. No meat, fish, animal products (and yes Mum, that includes ham), dairy, eggs and honey for a month. Some have asked why not just vegetarianism, but that almost seems too easy (!). Those who know me - and most who don't - will know this will be a massive struggle. I've spent a while laying awake at night wondering what the hell I'm going to eat for breakfast. I've spent the last couple of weeks casually checking whether things are vegan or not and silently sobbing when finding out that Campari isn't. Bye bye Negronis. 

A couple of people have kindly offered to donate to charity as an incentive for me to succeed. Thanks for being wonderful - nothing motivates me more than money (I jest...). I've set up a JustGiving page for it. One caveat stands; I am potentially going abroad for 5 days mid-way through November and veganism will be impossible, in which case I'll be carrying those 5 days into December.

Wish me luck. Please send me your favourite vegan recipes. Tell me about the worst vegan product you've tried. Tell me where I can eat in London when I can't be bothered to cook for myself. HELP. 

If you fancy keeping up with day-to-day vegan meltdowns, #veganvember is the hashtag to search for. May contain swearing. 

On Complicated Cooking, & Dinner at The Square

Philip Howard, now in his 21st year at The Square, has written a cookbook and it is not to be trifled with. I was invited to dinner at the two Michelin starred restaurant, recently named 7th in the National Restaurant Awards, for the launch of this weighty little beast. I appreciate and acknowledge that I am a lucky cow. 

We were seated in the private dining room and the evening kicked off with some seaweed crisps, like huge black prawn crackers with a taramasalata-like sauce to scoop up. Mini cornetto-shaped cones filled with a foie gras mousse amused my bouche, and then we got stuck into the tasting menu proper. 

One of the main highlights for me came early on. A slow cooked quail's egg bobbed about in an 'Autumn minestrone', the broth made from Montgomery cheddar. It managed to be light yet cheesy and rich, taking on just the flavour of the cheese rather than the texture. The egg popped in the mouth like a little balloon - is there much better than slow cooked eggs? I don't think so. 

The rest of the menu was a Michelin man's tick box of dreams. A lobe of foie gras was seared at a high heat befitting it, glazed and bronzed and served with a crab apple galette. I couldn't tell you what a crab apple tastes like, but in this instance its fruity tartness played off well against the rich liver. Langoustine tails sat on an emulsified bed of potato and truffle; the latter luxury ingredient so loved at this time of year made another appearance with a perfectly cooked slab of turbot, made unusual and disarming but delightful with a bay milk puree.

I am sorry to say that grouse isn't to my taste. I keep trying it in the hope that I will change my mind - after all, I started liking bananas on the day of my last birthday - which is why I didn't ask them to swap it out of my menu. Still, I can appreciate the technical skill that had gone into this dish. Cooked to an even pink throughout, the meat was butter-soft, the turnip and celeriac tower working in those Autumnal flavours and boosted by the blackberries. (Urgh.)

The cheese course was cleverly presented as a wedge of Barkham Blue stuffed into what looked like a pain au chocolat. A cheesecake with currants was such a sharp slice I could have sworn the edge of it could poke my eye out, and just when I thought I was fit to burst, a tall plum souffle, edges well clear of its ramekin was set before me, a scoop of almond ice cream slid inside it table-side. 

There's no doubting the immense skill of Howard and his kitchen. He came to have a chat with us afterwards and told us that this cookbook was 10 years in the making, and having had a flick through I can see how that's possible. 

I've been moaning recently that all we get these days are XYZ Made Easy, or whoever's meals in 15 minutes, or some bastardisation of a cuisine to make it simple and quick. None of us have much free time (or don't want to spend it cooking, apparently) but unless you want Heston and his science, books and TV shows these days don't cater for us food nerds who like learning about in-depth techniques and the dishes, made up of many components, that go with it. Which is why I was pretty pleased when I opened Howard's Part 1: Savoury. He makes no bones about it; a lot of it would be hard to do in a domestic kitchen, or one with basic equipment. But thumbing through cook books, ooh'ing and aah'ing over the incredible effort that goes in these dishes is pleasing to me, especially if I've eaten one (above, smoked mackerel with prawns, sea water jellies, cucumber and caviar). I find it all very inspirational and I might even get round to making one of the dishes, so hats off to Mr Howard and the gargantuan effort it must've been to write it all down. 

The cookbook is on Amazon if you which to purchase.

Philip Howard has also done podcasts you can listen to here, and a film - link here.

You can see all my photos from the night if you wish, here. 

The Square

6 - 10 Bruton Street
London W1J 6PU 

Tel: 0207 495 7100

The Orange Buffalo, Shoreditch

I have an addiction to wings. Chicken wings, specifically, covered in hot sauce. That perfect ratio of meat and fat, crispy chicken skin doused and softened in sauce that gets all over your hands and face. My friend did a month of veganism last year and we celebrated the end of it (as if I'd abstained from meat too) by cooking a kilo of them and scarfing them down with only our shame and a roll of kitchen paper for company. It was glorious. Last year another friend and I contemplated starting a market stall selling wings; lack of driving licenses, money, and time put paid to that idea. So I'm glad someone else did it.

The Orange Buffalo specialise in New York style buffalo wings and on a sunny Sunday, we could barely refrain from running from Liverpool Street station to satisfy our wing lust. A truck located in the Truman Brewery, they had picnic tables set up out front. We chatted to the man in the truck he told us of his troubles of finding free-range chicken wings, but find them they did and now they offer 8 wings for £6, in either Original or Woof Woof sauce. We enquired about what the sauces were which prompted a tasting of them off the end of little straws. The original, mild in chilli heat but flavoursome and tangy was bested by the Woof Woof; scotch bonnet fruitiness that tingled on the tongue. Even better was the Paul F - I can't remember what the exact story was behind that name [ED: This was named after the man who has eaten at the truck every day, currently over 100 days. Thanks @xirfan!), but it was spiciness tempered by the sweet fruitiness of mango. There was one hotter but still not face-melting. Less interesting in flavour, we decided on the first three we tried with a side of chunky chips. 

Served with celery sticks and a blue cheese dip, each portion we ordered was sweet, messy deliciousness. The wings are deep fried first before being tossed in each of the sauces and served in a paper dish. The roll of kitchen paper was decimated as we stained our faces and fingers with orange, intermittently sucking air through our teeth to douse the flames. The chips, ordered as an afterthought turned out to be pretty amazing; crisp, fluffy inside and dusted in 'American spice' - "it's like crack, this stuff" - and topped with a
blue cheese sauce, all for £2.

We're going to be regulars here, and if that means I get fat then so be it. I'll be fat and happy. 

The Orange Buffalo
Old Truman Brewery
Ely's Yard
London E1 6QL

Opening times - Monday 12 - 3pm
Tuesday - Sunday 12 - 8pm
Check their twitter feed for early / unexpected closures too