A Random Recipe: Beef & Lamb Meatballs with Broadbeans & Lemon

I made these with a hangover.  It's the one problem with food planning, I find.  Unpredicted hangovers.  At the start of last week I was all, Monday: Pasta Bianco.  Tuesday: Pasta Bianco (oh yeah, I totally give in to my obsessions).  Wednesday: Out for a friend's birthday.  Thursday:  Beef & Lamb Meatballs with Broadbeans & Lemon.

In fact, it should have read blah...obsessive pasta...blah.  Wednesday:  Out for a friend's birthday.  Plus pre-meal drinks.  Plus after-meal drinks.  Plus staying out till 12.30am on a weeknight (you crazy cat).  Thursday:  YOU WILL WANT TO SLAM YOUR HEAD IN THE DOOR TO TAKE AWAY THE PAIN OF A HANGOVER. WHY IS EVERYONE SHOUTING?

But - and here's the really fun bit - I'd already taken the minced beef out of the freezer, meaning I had to use it that night, or lose it forever.  And as much as the thought of having to stand upright for as long as it took to make these was pure pain, so was the thought of not eating at all that night - remember, feed a hangover - or throwing good money after bad and not using up the beef.

So.  I made these, hungover and no doubt somewhat delirious.  They took a smidge longer than I daresay they would have done if I were in the prime of health, and they had a few more steps than were ideal in my delicate state but, still easy enough to do and, as always with Ottolenghi, his spices were bright and unusual enough for me to sit up and take notice.  And, please somebody pass me a medal, I even double-podded broad beans.  Heroic, undoubtedly, but also very worth it to get the contrast between the two kinds of beans.  It fed my hangover perfectly - the meatballs were substantial enough that it was just the right level of dense protein hit needed for a hangover, and the broad beans and lemon nudged any vitamin buttons I felt I was missing that day.

This is my entry into this month's Random Recipe challenge, hosted by Dom at Belleau Kitchen.  It came from my Christmas present from my lovely and generous inlaws, a book I've mentioned my love of already, Ottolenghi's Jerusalem.  I've also noticed it's my second Ottolenghi meatball recipe, but that's the joy of a truly random recipe.  Will it replace those lost brain cells?  No.  Will I make it again?  For sure.  Will I get hungover on a weekday again?  Who am I kidding?  Luckily I've now got some of these in the freezer for next time.

Beef & Lamb Meatballs with Broadbeans and Lemon
Adapted from Ottolenghi, Jerusalem

For the meatballs:
300g minced beef
150g minced lamb
1 onion, finely chopped
120g breadcrumbs
Handful each fresh parsley, coriander, mint, dill, chopped
2 cloves garlic, crushed
1 tablespoon baharat spice mix (shop bought is fine; I used a bargain buy I'd got a few months ago called 'Persian Spice Mix' which had mostly the same ingredients in - otherwise, look at those ingredients and DIY)
1 tablespoon ground cumin
2 teaspoons capers, chopped
1 egg, beaten

For the sauce:
4.5 tablespoons olive oil
350g broad beans, fresh or frozen
4 thyme sprigs
6 cloves garlic, sliced
8 spring onions, cut into 2cm slices
2.5 tablespoons lemon juice
500ml chicken stock
salt and pepper

For the meatballs, put all the ingredients in a large bowl and mix until thoroughly combined.  Form into 20 balls, each about the size of a ping pong ball.  This is easier if you divide the mix in half, and then into half again, and aim to get five balls out of each section.

In a pan large enough to later take all the meatballs, heat 1 tablespoon of the oil.  In two batches, fry the meatballs so they are browned on the outside, a few minutes for each batch.  Remove from the pan.

While they are cooking, blanch the broad beans in boiling salted water for 2 minutes.  Drain and let them sit under the cold tap for a minute, to cool them down.  Double pod about half of them, by pressing gently on each one until the skin splits and removing the bright green beans from inside.  Discard the empty skins.

In the meatball pan, heat the remaining oil.  Add the thyme, garlic, spring onions and fry gently, stirring all the time, for a few minutes.  Add the unshelled broad beans, 1.5 tablespoons of lemon juice, and just enough stock to cover the beans.  Cover the pan with either a lid or with a double thickness of tinfoil, and cook gently for 10 minutes.  Return the meatballs to the pan, stir gently, then add the remaining stock.  Cover the pan again and cook for 25 minutes, when the meatballs should be hot all the way through.

Just before serving, add the remaining lemon juice and shelled broad beans.  Serve immediately.

Serves 4

Some Like It Hot - Pilpelchuma

To my recollection, there has been only one dish I have eaten that was so spicy it overwhelmed me.  It was a Som Tam salad, and I ate it at a Thai food stall in Kuala Lumpur.  I was weeping, Andy was mopping my brow and the owner of the stall brought me over some watermelon to cool down.  Alas, on that day in the case of Suze versus food, food won.  But (and this is the crucial bit), such is my obsessive relationship with chillies and spicy food, the second, the very second I woke up the next day, I wanted to go back and eat it all over again.

I always find it one of the peculiarities of life in New Zealand that properly hot food is quite hard to find.  Argentina was the same actually, and we ate at was, at that time, the only Indian restaurant in Buenos Aires  so often that we were recognised as regulars, and the Gosht Saagwala would appear at our table as soon as we sat down.  It's also quite odd to me that when you order at an Indian restaurant here, you're often offered the choice of three heats:  Kiwi hot (mild), Indian hot (medium), and English hot (supposedly hot, although us two chilli addicts never find it that hot) - when surely it should be served at the heat the recipe calls for?

So I always like to have some kind of hot sauce hanging round at home to add instant oomph to dishes that need spicing up.  I discovered this as part of the Ottolenghi carrot salad, and happily, there is now a jar of this intense, thick with garlic and chilli paste sitting in my fridge, just waiting to be added to some scrambled eggs, or rubbed over the skin of a roast chicken, or tossed through vegetables before roasting, or bringing new life to sorry leftovers.  This is very much an adaptation; I had to go with the quantities of spices I had in.  I can't vouch for it's authenticity, but I can vouch for it's spiciness, and that makes this chilli addict very happy indeed.

Pilpelchuma
Adapted from Ottolenghi, 'Jerusalem'

10 dried Guntur chillies
12g ground cayenne pepper
12g paprika
1 tablespoon ground cumin
0.5 tablespoon caraway seeds
20 garlic cloves, peeled
1 teaspoon salt
75ml olive oil, plus a little extra for preserving

Boil the kettle.  Put the chillies in a bowl and cover them with boiling water, then leave them for half an hour.  Meanwhile, pour some boiling water into a clean jar, to sterilise it.  Pour it out after 10 minutes, then leave to dry naturally, and be sure not to put your fingers inside the jar.

In a large, dry, nonstick frying pan, spread the cayenne pepper, paprika, cumin and caraway seeds.  Toast them over a medium heat for a minute or two.  Let your nose guide you: when you get a lovely waft of toasting spices, they are done.  Put them into a small food processor bowl along with the garlic cloves and salt.

Drain and deseed the chillies, then put them in the processor with the spices.  Pulse a few times until everything is well mixed, then, with the motor running, pour in your olive oil until it all comes together in a thick paste.

Spoon into your jar, and cover with a thin layer of olive oil.

This will keep in the fridge for a few weeks.  Doubtful it will last that long, though.

Super Spicy Carrot Salad

It's a shame, really, that Wellington doesn't get much of a look-in with the tourists that ply New Zealand.  Time and time again, when we speak to visitors, we hear the refrain of "Auckland-Rotorua-Taupo-Wellington just for one night before we get the ferry - everywhere on the South Island".  No matter how many times Lonely Planet calls it "the coolest little capital in the world", no matter how often the guidebooks say it punches well above its weight, size wise, and no matter how much the locals shout loud about what a very interesting, friendly city it is to live in, those tourists just keep ploughing southwards.

And we do have lots, actually, to offer.  Not only the obvious stuff like Te Papa (been here 4 years and I still haven't worked my way round the whole thing) and The Weta Cave (those clever people who have worked on a couple of little local films), but how about taking a day and mooching along the Writers' Walk, or drive around the 30km of coastline that's right here in the central city, stopping off at Maranui Cafe for lunch then on to see the seals at Red Rocks?

Most of all though, at this time of year, you should check out Wellington Summer City.  There's, like, a million things going on, most of them for free and out of the goodness of the council's hearts.  The best ones are the concerts and the films.  Already this year we've been to an Ohmygodtherearesomanypeoplehere Beatles tribute band in the Botanic Gardens, but the one that has got everyone pretty excited is The Princess Bride showing.  Yes, all my friends and I are of a certain age.  What of it? 

At these events, it's up to you what you take with you, and you see all combos from the sleeping bag and a 6 pack of beer, to deck chairs and smoked salmon.  For us, I tend to go somewhere in the middle, with blanket and cushions (never forget the cushions, especially if you are at the same certain age as us), a bottle of our finest champagne (coughLindauercough), crisps, ostensibly for Andy although I will eat them and whinge about them being Salt & Vinegar, dips, and something delicious and homemade.

And this, people, this will be gracing my picnic blanket at every event from now on.  I'm utterly addicted.  It started off by daydreaming about those lovely carrot salads you get in France - do you remember those, doused in oil and lemon and parsely?  Divine - and ended up with me spying a riff on this in my new Ottolenghi book, Jerusalem, a Christmas gift from my lovely in-laws.  It has those lovely sweet, fresh flavours you get in the French carrots, but with a knockout spicy punch of flavours that come from the spice paste.  I dressed it with parsley, rather than the suggested rocket, at the end, because I had lots of it (seriously, it grows like a weed here), and I personally think that parsley is an even better fit for carrots than coriander is - I'd love to see Carrot & Parsley soup on a menu. 

And yes, I know, I know, it includes a paste that you have to make in advance.  Don't hate me.  BUT you can use shop-bought harissa, AND believe me, you want to make this paste, AND I will give you the recipe next time.  I just wanted you to really want it.

Come to Wellington, and you can share a bit of mine.  I'll even give you some of Andy's crisps to go with.

Spicy Carrot Salad
Adapted from Ottolenghi, Jerusalem

6 large carrots, peeled
1 onion, finely chopped
3 tablespoons olive oil
1 tablespoon Pilpelchuma paste (recipe next time) or 2 tablespoons harissa paste
0.5 teaspoon ground cumin
0.5 teaspoon caraway seeds
3 tablespoons white wine vinegar
0.5 teaspoon sugar
salt
small handful flat leaf parsley, chopped

In a large pan, cover the carrots with cold water and bring to the boil.  Reduce to a simmer, cover, and cook until they are just tender, 15-20 minutes.  Drain and cool.

Meanwhile, heat half the oil in a frying pan over a medium heat.  Add the onion, and fry until golden brown.

Cut the carrots into slices about the thickness of a coin (pound or dollar; take your pick).

Put the carrots and onions into a mixing bowl with the rest of the oil, the spice paste, cumin, caraway seeds, vinegar, sugar and plenty of salt.  Mix well until everything is evenly coated.

Now, leave it.  Walk away.  Give the flavours at least half an hour, just to give them a chance to mingle.

When you're ready to serve, dish it up on to a platter or tupperware box, scatter your parsley over, and get ready for your tastebuds to be blown away.  As you wish.  And if you got that reference, welcome to the Of A Certain Age club.

Serves 4

Chickpea Salad with Summer Vegetables

Living upside down doesn't always sit easily with me.  When it comes to the subject of Christmas, I feel my fate is to be forever a whingeing Pom.  Christmas deserves frost, snow, hot chocolate and dark nights.  However, a short, lazy week after Christmas, I am just delighted to celebrate New Year in summer.  New Year was made for the summer. Outside parties, the can't-get-a-taxi walk home, having to stay up till midnight (did I mention I'm apparently an old lady?) - all of these things are made infinitely better by happening when it's warm and sunny outside.

Also into this category falls the inevitable January 'Healthy Eating Plan' (I smell a euphemism).  Having an overhaul of lazy eating habits, of vowing to not just lie on the sofa and eat pasta every night that Andy is at work - so, so much better in the sunshine.  Cold food with bright flavours, fresh salad vegetables at their best, ripe and full of late-season sweetness, makes it much easier to kick-start the year into being better than its predecessor.

I wrote last year about a new-found love of Ottolenghi, and this is based on another recipe of his.  At the market stall I now run, I have recently started selling salads, and have been pleasantly surprised with how well they sell - turns out I'm not the only one craving food that makes you feel virtuous as well as happy to eat it.  My salads tend to be pulse and grain based - I definitely find these more filling and interesting, texture-wise, than leaf-based salads.

Typically of Ottolenghi, it looks like a fairly standard list of ingredients until you get to the spices, then BAM. I didn't follow all the steps in his, as I wanted to serve this cold and wanted to make it quickly.  It still tasted fresh and filling and wonderful.

Chickpea Salad with Summer Vegetables
Based on Ottolenghi

2 cans chickpeas (I usually use dried but forgot to soak them and time ran away)
1 cucumber
1 large tomato
1 small red onion
120g radishes
1 red pepper, deseeded
1 handful coriander leaves and stems, chopped
1 handful flat-leaf parsley, chopped
30ml olive oil
Grated zest and juice of 1 lemon
1 tablespoon white wine vinegar
1 clove garlic, crushed
0.5 teaspoon sugar
Salt and pepper
0.5 teaspoon ground cardamom
0.75 teaspoon ground allspice
0.5 teaspoon ground cumin

Dice the cucumber, tomato, onion, radish and pepper into pieces roughly the size of chickpeas.  Mix with the coriander and parsley.  Mix together the olive oil, lemon zest, lemon juice, vinegar, garlic, sugar, cardamom, allspice, and cumin.  Season to taste.

Serves 4

Chicken and Sweetcorn Meatballs

I was somewhat late to the Ottolenghi table.  I'm not even sure why; I mean, just look how delicious all these sound.  His flavour combinations are right up my street, and I love the sound of his spices.  I hang my head in shame as to how long it took me to get round to making my first recipe.

But, I never can resist a good meatball, so when I read about these little beauties, I had to give them a go.  Even more pressing, I first made them in the run-up to the Rugby World Cup last year, when we would be hosting two very special visitors from home, Andy's Dad, Selwyn, and his good friend and partner-in-crime, Roy.  When I'm cooking for just the two of us most of the time, and for a good chunk of the week just for me if Andy's working in the evening, I can take more of a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants approach; when we had visitors staying with us for close to a month, I needed to get somewhat more organised, and so fell happily on anything I could prepare in the calm before the storm, freeze, and serenely present it to our guests, beatific smile on my face, and act as if I was quite the domestic goddess.  Between you, me and the gatepost, no description could be further from the truth - fine, my baking is ok, but my dusting skills fall sadly short of the mark - so anything to make my life easier is A Good Thing.

These were so lovely I made them again recently.  They are light enough to suit the late summer season (or early autumn, as we are in now - I blame St David, as 1st March is the first day of autumn here).  And, true to expectations, it was the spice element that really makes them zing.  The cumin is a beautiful element of the flavour, and the sweet/sour sauce, from the perfect merging of these ingredients, is good enough to drink by itself, from the bowl.  Although obviously I didn't do that.  OBVIOUSLY. 

A few adaptations from the original - turkey mince is surprisingly hard to find here, so I made the obvious sub of chicken mince, and actually made my own from free-range boneless thighs, I used wholemeal bread instead of the original's white bread, and for the sauce, I used one of those handy jars of marinated, roasted red peppers, instead of roasting my own.  I know, I know, but I already had one in and it seemed the easier route, plus I couldn't tell any difference from the previous time when I did DIY the peppers.

Chicken and Sweetcorn Meatballs with Roasted Red Pepper Sauce
Adapted from Yotam Ottolenghi

For the Meatballs:
100g frozen sweetcorn kernels
3 slices of wholemeal bread, crusts removed
500g boneless chicken thighs, minced
1 free-range egg
4 spring onions, finely chopped
2 tbsp finely chopped parsley
2.5 tsp ground cumin
1.5 tsp salt
0.5 tsp black pepper
1 garlic clove, crushed
Olive oil, for frying

For the Roasted Red Pepper Sauce:
4 roasted red peppers, from a jar
3 tbsp olive oil
1 tsp salt
25g coriander, leaves and stalks
1 garlic clove, peeled
1 small mild chilli, deseeded
2 tbsp sweet chilli sauce
2 tbsp cider vinegar or white wine vinegar

Preheat your oven to 200C.

Put all the ingredients for the sauce in a blender or a food processor, and blitz until smooth.  Taste for seasoning, adjust if necessary, and set aside.

Heat a non-stick frying pan over a medium to high heat, and toast the sweetcorn kernels, tossing occasionally (I love this as I get the chance to practice my cheffy pan-flicky thing, resulting in sweetcorn all over the hob and the floor) until they are well-toasted, and starting to char in some places.  Leave to cool.

Soak the bread in water, squeeze it well to remove the excess liquid, and crumble into a large mixing bowl.  Add all the other meatball ingredients except the oil, and mix well.  Form into meatballs about the size of golf balls.

Heat the oil in your frying pan over a medium to high heat, and, in batches, fry the meatballs until they are brown on all sides.  Transfer to a baking sheet, and cook in your preheated oven - mine took about 10 minutes, it's best to check with one that it's cooked through because of the variables in this - the size of your meatballs, how much you brown them, etc.  Anyway, they don't take long.

Serve with your red pepper sauce on the side.  I like mine with a simply-dressed green salad.

Serves 4