I’m a little bit obsessed with fritters at the moment. Actually a lot. Once I newly discover, or remember I like something I will obsess over it, making a myriad of variations until the theme is completely exhausted, I’m afraid I’m not quite there yet… Fritters have the advantage of being that perilous combination of almost seeming virtuous, whilst still being quite naughty; a great way of pimping and imbibing vegetables, there’s however no denying they’re fried, and best served in brunchy style coalitions.

As the evenings are drawing in I chose warming ingredients erring towards the Autumnal, I’m not usually a huge fan of orange, but the zest here really lifts and brings the flavours together.

Beetroot & Halloumi Fritters with Ginger Yoghurt Dip Recipe

Makes about 6

• 250g cooked beetroot grated – use a tea towel to squeeze out any excess liquid
• 100g halloumi grated
• 1 large egg beaten
• 45g plain flour
• seasoning
• orange zest, a tablespoon
• nigella (black onion) seeds, a smattering
• greek yoghurt
• freshly grated ginger

Combine all ingredients except for the yoghurt and ginger. Heat oil in a frying pan, add golf ball sized balls to the pan and flatten with a spatula then leave to cook for about 3 minutes on each side. Drain on some kitchen towel before serving with the yoghurt.

For the dip, just grate a thumb sized nob of ginger into yoghurt and mix well.

You might also like: Coffee and Ginger, Hazelnut, Fig and Chocolate Spelt Cantuccini

The post Beetroot & Halloumi Fritters with Ginger Yoghurt Dip first appeared on The Faerietale Foodie.

This is a bun that shoehorns everything I want for breakfast into one neat package. Sweet, savoury, peach and porky, spikily salty and sugary with a herbal twist. Umm, and booze…

I based this on Felicity Cloake’s chelsea bun recipe from her excellent Guardian Perfect column but replaced the butter for rendered Italian lardo. As you do. Well, I had the remainder of a lump of it reclining in the fridge and just knew it would enhance the dough for my intentions. Peach jam benefits from a lick of bourbon that’s echoed in an egg wash. I kept it fairly heavy on the pancetta after my introduction to Nuno Medes’ breakfast meat bread last week, an inspired addition to a newly launched breakfast menu at Taberno Do Mercado that also ticks many boxes for me, including as it does an oozing custard tart and some cute looking filled doughnuts. Alas, I haven’t made it there for breakfast yet, my delivery was from Clerkenwell Boy , my lunchtime partner in crime at, always perfect, Lyles.

• Makes 9
• 200ml whole milk
• 60g rendered pork fat
• 450g strong white flour
• 2 tablespoons caster sugar
• 1 egg beaten
• 1 teaspoon salt
• sachet fast action yeast
• pancetta, finely chopped
• fresh thyme

For filling and finishing

• butter
• beaten egg
• caster sugar
• egg
• bourbon
• white peach
• lemon
• fresh thyme

I had some lardo in the fridge, so I rendered that down in the oven, obviously retaining the meat scraps to throw back into the dough, but you could use butter in it’s place.

Mix the milk with the pork fat. In a large bowl put the flour and sugar, whisk in the yeast, then add the milk mixture and egg and stir to combine before mixing in the salt.

Knead the dough on a clean surface for around 10 minutes until smooth and elastic. Replace in the bowl, cover and leave to rise for around 2 hours or until doubled in size.

Meanwhile make the jam. I use a very simple method, finely chopping 3 peaches, then add the juice of a lemon and a good level of caster sugar, around the same weight of the fruit. Boil for several minutes until it thickens then add a slug of bourbon and heat again until slightly reduced.

Knock back the dough, adding the chopped pancetta at the same time and fully incorporate then roll into a long rectangle. Spread with butter and the jam then roll up from the long side. Carefully cut into 9 evenly sized pieces, making sure not to squash them too much as you cut. Place into an oiled, square baking tray.

At this stage I left my buns to prove overnight covered in the fridge so that I could bake them fresh, and more importantly eat them warm, the following morning, but they only really need a 30 minute rise. When you’re ready to bake, brush with an egg wash pimped with a glug of bourbon, scatter with thyme and caster sugar and place in the centre of an oven pre heated to 200 degrees for around 30-35 minutes.

You might also read: N’duja Focaccia

The post Pancetta, Peach, Bourbon & Thyme Breakfast Buns first appeared on The Faerietale Foodie.

One of my favourite places to take brunch these days is Salon in Brixton Village. I hear they do a cracking evening service but, well, brunch is where my heart is, and after a tough session at the gym, the likes of nduja strewn scrambled eggs on toast is just the thing. An nduja pain perdou was a stroke of genius and, as you can imagine, right up my street.

The setting is as pretty as a provincial picture; a well stocked bar dominates a room filled with wooden furniture, dusky blue walls, old bottles and dried flowers. I love that seating is upstairs, on a slightly wonky floor, above the bustle of the market, an airy room that matches the external eclectic chaos with an equally boisterous, if middle class, brunching crowd. Best spot in the house is at the far end of the room, next to the window for people and market peering.

They often declare of a weekend morning their ‘special’; one of nduja focaccia with roasted tomatoes speaks strongly to me often, but never at a time I’ve been available to catch it. Until I do, I’ve stolen the idea myself and rather than a focaccia stuffed with chunks of the spicy Calabrian sausage, as I assume they do, I’ve mixed swirls of the paste-like version into the dough itself. Fiery ribbons and seams of chilli strewn sausage paste that licks the dough with it’s orange tongue.

My first instinct was to serve with roasted tomatoes, sweet and blistered, a soft mozzarella and some smoky prosciutto. I ate it again for brunch the following day as a beast of a sandwich, filled with more roasted tomatoes, smashed avocado and an nduja fried egg. Oooof.

It’s definitely a recipe I’ll be making again.

Focaccia is a super quick and simple bread to make, this time I followed Paul Hollywood’s recipe as it was one of the first to pop up in Google, but it’s much the same as recipes I’ve used in the past with success.

For the Focaccia

• 40g olive oil plus extra
• 250g strong white bread flour
• 180g chilled water
• 5g salt
• 1 sachet fast action yeast
• Fresh Rosemary
• nduja paste – I use one from M&S’ foreign grocery section that comes in a small jar
• sea salt

Put the flour into a large mixing bowl and add the yeast to one side and salt to the other.

Add the olive oil and then water slowly to incorporate all of the dough until you have a fairly wet, rough dough.

Lightly oil a work surface, turn the dough out and knead for 5-10 minutes until it starts to become smooth and elastic. It should still be quite wet and sticky so don’t panic and add lots of flour, just keep scraping down and cleaning your hands.

Once it has a smooth consistency, push a dip into the centre and dot a good tablespoon of nduja onto the top. Fold the corners of the dough roughly back into the centre, then repeat once more so the nduja starts to become ripples throughout the dough, but gently and stop before you get a completely orange mess! Pick it up gently and place into an oiled bowl, fold side facing down.

Cover and leave for 1 hour until doubled in size.

Oil a baking tray. Lift the dough carefully out of the bowl and very gently stretch it out before placing onto the tray and pushing it into shape without letting too much of the air escape.

Cover and leave for another hour to let it rise again.

Preheat your oven to 220 degrees. Push deep dimples evenly apart into the surface of the dough, drizzle liberally with olive oil, sprinkle with rosemary and flaked sea salt then bake for around 15 minutes until the surface is golden and the bread sounds hollow when tapped.

Allow to cool before serving.

The post N’duja Focaccia first appeared on The Faerietale Foodie.

I struggle with raw tomatoes in this country. Unless plucked directly from our allotment, still warm from the sun’s kiss and sweet from the caress of fresh air and goodness, they just don’t taste good; bitter, wet and sour to my palate.

Perhaps because I’ve tasted the tomatoes in Italy and France, somehow more full of flavour than anything I’ve tasted over here. Placebo maybe, when everything is blessed with that mediterranean sunshine. Or could it be that my cynical side takes over, having spent several months picking tomatoes in Bowen, Australia, I’ve seen the industrial side of production, the plucking of under ripe fruit, then storing and synthetically ripening in warehouses with chemicals rather than on the plants themselves.

At any rate, on the whole, I eat them grilled or roasted over here, blistered and charred. That is, of course, unless I find some outstanding specimens, in which case I’m more than happy to eat them as nature intended, accompanied with a creamy buffalo mozzarella, freshly picked basil and a good drizzle of olive oil.

Raw onion equally leaves me cold; I fear it’s aggressive bitterness, ditto raw pepper. For these reasons I find many raw salads too sharp and not wholly enjoyable. So, this is a sweet and mellow version of the classic panzanella salad, much more suited to my own tastes and a warming welcome as Autumn nudges Summer out of the way. I’d imagine silky, smoky aubergine would work really well with these charred vegetables, BBQ’d even better.

Basically anything you care to toss in, are particularly keen on or have wilting around the kitchen. Clearly I’ve also made versions spiked with nduja, but you guessed that, right? It makes a great little brunch dish topped with an egg, yolk perfectly ready to pop, spilling it’s richness onto the salad.

You might also like: Hash Brown Waffles with Wild Garlic Pesto & Gruyere

More of an idea than a recipe, feel free to add or sub as you fancy and to your own tastes. I’m really not a fan of soggy bread, so mine has large croutons that are allowed to soften ever so slightly with the juices. Just not too much…

I haven’t put quantities here just some rough directions

Drizzle torn chunks of bread, of roughly equal size, liberally with olive oil, then toss with crushed garlic and put under the grill to toast.

Chop red onion, sweet red peppers and a mixture of tomatoes, drizzle with olive oil and red wine vinegar, plenty of seasoning then put under the drill until they start to blacken, blister and turn soft.

I had some thick slices of crumbly finocchiona (fennel salami), so I fried this off a little in a pan whilst frying an egg.

Add croutons to the vegetables and their juices and the salami, toss together and top with the fried egg.

The post A Brunch Twist on Panzanella for the Onset of Autumn first appeared on The Faerietale Foodie.

Gosh, but it’s taken me an age to spit out a new blog post, hasn’t it?!

Believe me then, that this is worth the effort.

Sage Appliances sent me a waffle maker (cheers guys!) – so you can only imagine the long list of ideas I had managed to scrawl down in the time between their email offer and delivery of the very beast itself. The list including nothing so pedestrian as to contain anything requiring merely ‘waffle batter’. No, the common or garden waffle has never held much appeal to me; being neither my beloved bread nor interesting enough as a sweet option to really sway me. However the sampling of a corn bread version at Notting Hill’s Egg Break had me all of the curious…..

Inevitably then, it was a corn bread waffle that was to be the first I tried, incorporating sweetcorn, plenty of cheddar, spring onions and chills, it was a pretty good example of a savoury waffle, IMHO, which I served with avocado and bacon. Guacamole might have been preferable had I any inclination to make it.

Next I fancied sweet potato, muscovado sugar and jalapeño waffles, made with spelt flour. Typically, I teased out the sweet/savoury pairing, serving with spicy mini chorizos and plenty of drizzled honey. With butter. Salted.

Spelt & pecan, banana bread waffles were screaming out for streaky bacon & butter, whilst banana, tahini and cardamom ones were a solid pairing for the rhubarb and blood orange jam I made at one of Newton & Pott‘s classes.

Then, I had an idea that pushed all others aside whilst I furiously grated potato and shallots and cheese. It occurred to me that this waffle maker was merely a great, non stick, squishing and heating device similar to a toastie maker, simply waffle in shape. I’d wager you could make mighty fine rosti or hash browns etc etc

Turns out, I was not remotely the first person to come to this conclusion, as a swift googling will always and quickly reveal. Hey ho.

However it is really as simple as I’d hoped. The machine I have is quite deep and my first attempt taught me that you need to stuff the middles full, if not all the way to the edges, in order to get an even pressure on both sides. Other than that it was as simple as mixing everything together, and sandwiching for a good few minutes.

Below was simply potato, shallot, a spoonful of butter and comte with seasoning and below that, a messy version for brunch with chilli fried egg and smoked sausage. Sweet potato also a good variation.

It’s fair to say I’ve yet to exhaust possibilities but I’m declaring the following my pièce de résistance.

Potato, Wild Garlic & Pistachio Pesto & Gruyere Hash Brown

Grate 3 or 4 baby spuds per person, scrubbed but skin on and then squeeze out as much water as possible using a tea towel over the sink. Grate in a good chunk of Gruyere cheese, to taste. Stir through pesto (I just blitzed together wild garlic with pistachios, olive oil & seasoning) or just chopped wild garlic and a spoon full of melted butter. Heat for a good 7 minutes until the edges are crispy. This is where the Sage machine has a lovely feature to add ‘a bit more’ cooking time until you’re satisfied the waffles/hash browns are perfectly done.

And ta da – what’s not to love about giant, aggressively garlicky, crispy edged, cheese filled hash brown? Nothing is what.

I am WAY more into waffle hash browns than I am into waffles, if that wasn’t clear.

I’m starting to look like a waffle now, so taking a breather whilst a travel a little over the next month or so. If I’m not inspired by my wanderings (unlikely) then I still have, jotted in my notes…

Brown Butter Doughnut Waffles

Funfetti Cake Batter Waffles

Dhaal Brunch Waffles

Nduja and Honey Waffle

Waffle cheese Toastie

Hash Brown Waffle Cheese Toastie

I think you get the gist – I promise, they continue to get more ridiculous…..

The post Hash Brown Waffles with Wild Garlic Pesto & Gruyere first appeared on The Faerietale Foodie.