Chubby Chicken Legs with White Wine, Olives and Caperberries

Spring: the prettiest season by far and definitely less demanding than its summer counterpart. There’s not a wedding on every available weekend, there’s no need to book a holiday due to the copious bank holidays and it’s absolutely unnecessary to bare legs, which helps on the body admin front, a lot. Heck, even wild flowers make the motorway roadsides look idyllic.

We are eating easier, fresher food than the heavy recipes of the winter months and accompanying them with a salad rather than stodge. So, here we were on a spring evening and I cooked a deceptively simple dish for eating al fresco (when I say al fresco, I really mean directly under a patio lamp). I once heard tell that you can taste the quality of a wine that is cooked in a recipe and remembering this and being fully aware that any wine not included in the recipe was to be drunk at dinner, I opted for a beautiful Lindeman's Bin 65 chardonnay. Whole chicken legs are simply placed in an ovenproof dish with olives, caperberries, fresh tomatoes, Parmesan, wine and garlic and baked until the ingredients have mingled and become united. Serve straightaway with fresh greens and a chilled glass of wine.

Chubby Chicken Legs with Tomatoes, Olives and Caperberries

Serves 4

Prep Time – 10 minutes
Cook Time – 40 minutes

3 tbsp olive oil
75ml dry white wine (I used Lideman's Chardonnay)
100g freshly & finely grated Parmesan cheese
2 big gloves of garlic, peeled and very finely sliced
4 plump chicken legs, skin on
4 fresh tomatoes, halved
A handful of black olives (125g)
2 tbsp caperberries
Fresh bread to serve

1/ Preheat the oven to 180C, fan 160, gas 4
2/ Add the olive oil; white wine, half of the Parmesan and garlic to a 2-litre oven proof dish and stir vigorously to combine. Add the chicken legs and coat well with the sauce. Add the tomatoes, olives and capers to the dish and toss in the sauce.
3/ Turn the chicken so the plump side is facing up and sprinkle with the remaining Parmesan to cover as if a sheet of snow. Cook for 35-40 minutes until the chicken meat is pulling away from the bone. Remove from the oven and give a final dusting of Parmesan.
4/ My suggestion would be to serve with a hunk of bread and chilled glass of white wine.


How to Make a Naked Cake

Now that we are fully moving into summer, it seems that everyone (and all their friend’s of friend’s and family members and work colleagues…) has something to celebrate. Either someone is getting married, or there’s a birthday, a leaving party – SO MANY PARTIES WE JUST CAN’T KEEP UP.

But, as every cloud has a silver lining, every occasion has a cake – or 100% should do in our opinion. And if you are half as obsessed with cakes and bakes as we are, you have probably come across naked cakes. Now, these are not half as risqué as they seem – there is definitely nothing Dita Von Teese would find interesting here – but they are stunning to look at, if done well, and a pretty certain hit at any event.

Naked cakes are a classic example of less is more. You let the ingredients speak for themselves by leaving it all up to simple decoration and beautiful food. Just have a glance at ‘Take One Pot’ and ‘Take One Veg’ and you’ll see this is what I’m all about.

A naked cake, then, is a multi tiered stunner of sponge (in this case, chocolate), a contrasting ganache or buttercream, topped with some seasonal berries or flowers. What could be more beautiful for a British summer time party?

So first: the sponge. The cakey foundation on which all else is built. Most importantly, pick your flavour be it chocolate, vanilla, red velvet, maybe lemon and thyme – this is an area for real creative spark. You’ll need to bake at least three tiers to make this look as ‘wow factor’ as possible, working from the largest base to the smallest top tier. Once baked and risen in a way that would make Mary Berry gleam with joy, split horizontally into three more layers so that you have a 6 in total.

Then, the icing. White chocolate ganache here ALL THE WAY as it needs to be strong enough to support the cakes but tasty enough to leave your guests coming back for more. But most importantly, it needs to be a contrasting colour to the sponge. So I went for white chocolate to stand out against the dark sponge. Then, between each layer, just spread the frosting all the way to the edge, start building and pipe any into exposed edges. Finish the look with a palette knife. 

Lastly, cover the whole thing in a flurry of flowers – no piping bags or fondant here. Just seasonal, pretty, fresh flowers that work at any celebration; mine was a May birthday dinner. What could be more beautiful? 


I Know This Great Little Place in Soho

If you’re anything like us, eating out is one of life’s pure joys. Somebody else cooks, cleans up and plies you with wine all night. What could be better? But more often than not, it’s a blessing and a curse because as social convention states, you only get to have one starter, main and dessert. That’s your lot. Just. Those. Three. But what if we can’t choose?! What if we want it all?! WHAT IF OUR DATE DOESN’T ORDER SOMETHING DIFFERENT AND WE CAN’T TRY EACH OTHER’S?! It’s a real panic point.

But fear not because 10 Greek Street is the perfect place to go, if, like us, you simply will not be forced into this strict choosiness. Bring on the tasting plates! Slap bang in the middle of Soho sits the Google maps friendly named restaurant, 10 Greek Street. It’s a real ‘blink and you miss it’ spot because of its subtle signage but keep your eyes peeled for the large open windows and suitably edgy dark exterior and you’ve got it.

Now, if there’s one criteria that you judge a restaurant on, chances are your entire evening out will hang terrifyingly on this one point. For some, it’s the prettiness of loos (yes…I know). For others, it’s the size of the smile on the waiter’s face. But over here, it’s if there’s free bread. The smallest of offerings, the BIGGEST of returns. We love a carb fest so bring on the house-made still-warm-to-the-touch bounty with all of that olive oil and balsamic and you are firmly in our good books. So congrats 10 Greek Street, you’ve started out well.

This is sharing food / tapas style / indecisive dining at it’s best. You can pick from larger or smaller versions of most dishes, meaning that if you just can’t bear the thought of a small plate of burrata with polenta and morels (OH YES) then you can fill up without having to limit yourself to just one darn plate. The menu is super ingredient focussed with dishes designed to showcase all the individual beauties off like the best kind of foodie beauty pageant. On top of this, it’s extremely seasonal – often switching out dishes completely, week to week. So all the more reason to just go ahead and get all those sides. They might be gone before you blink.

With small plates starting at £6 and mains going up to £19 it’s not what you would describe as a ‘bargain diner’ but it’s definitely reasonable for the quality of the dishes. The perfect place to try everything and regret nothing.


The Great Bakewell Tart Debate

This weekend was the Bakwell Food Festival. Yeah, yeah I know you all think it’s all about Glasto or Bestival or Wireless but, my friends, you are incorrect. Bakewell is where it is AT. No question about it. And if you don’t believe me, then just ask yourself why those places don’t have a dessert named after them. Exactly.

Anyone who’s spent more than six months in the UK or has as unhealthy an obsession with Northern baked goods as us will know that nothing, nowhere, no how beats a good old slice of mother’s best Bakewell. Rich, crumbly and almondy with a sharp smack of raspberry jam buttery, short, tender-as-the-night pastry…somebody please pass the cream.

But, by FAR the best thing about this cakey, tarty, quirky treat is it’s history. Similarly, depending how far north of Golders Green you are, you will probably have a very different imagining of what exactly constitutes this beloved tea time treat. For some – mostly those in the South – Mr Kipling quickly springs to mind, with little rectangles of silicone sponge and sweeter than saccharine icing. But ask the same question to a Yorkshireman and you will be presented with what looks like an egg custard tart with very….um…shall we say…freeefrom edges. No moulds in sight, this baking comes from the heart.

According to the story at the Old Bakewell Pudding Shop based in the heart of the town, around 1860, the local in called The White Horse was run by a Mrs Graves (I’m imagining a Victorian Bette Lynch, you?). Some customers asked for a strawberry tart and the cook spread the egg mixture on top of the jam, rather than mixing it all through. BOOM, Bakewell pudding was born and we were all much more joyful for it.

Anyone who loves baking though, just like we do, will go weak at the knees for Bakewell, mostly because it offers you infinite kitchen creativity. Don’t have strawberry jam? No matter, try marmalade, or quince jelly, or what about black cherry? Allergic to almonds? Switch them out for pistachios in the frangipane mix and make your Bakewell all Persian. The opportunities are endless (something we LOVE). But to kick start your journey of exploration, here’s one of our fave recipes.

Bakewell Tart from Peyton & Byrne

Sweet Crust Pastry
85g butter softened
50g icing sugar
1 egg yolk
200g plain flour
For the Frangipane filling
200g softened butter
200g caster sugar
2 eggs
200g ground almonds
50g self raising flour
100g raspberry jam
50g crushed raspberries
icing sugar to dust 
50g flaked almonds

For the pastry
1/ In a bowl cream the butter, then add the icing sugar, mix until light and fluffy. Then add in the beaten egg yolk and flour, and form a dough. Turn on to the surface and knead for 2 minutes and form into a ball.
2/ Wrap in cling film and pop in the fridge for an hour before lining a 24cm tart tin.

For the tart
1/ Preheat the oven to 180 degrees. In a bowl beat the butter and sugar together until light and fluffy. Add the eggs in one at a time, mixing well. Add in the ground almonds and flour and mix until well incorporated. 
2/ Remove the tart from the fridge. Spread the jam over the base, and then lay the crushed raspberries on top. Making sure they are spread out. Spoon the frangipane mixture on top and spread over. Do not over fill. 
3/ Scatter the flaked almonds on top and bake. Bake for 30 minutes, then I place a piece of foil over it and let it cook for a further 12-15 minutes, the foil prevents it from over browning. Allow to cool and sprinkle with icing sugar just before serving. 


For the love of garlic...

Look away right now if you are a vampire and / or on a date because this post is all about everyone’s favourite kitchen helper, the friendly head of garlic. National Garlic Day was this week and what better excuse than to celebrate these little cloves of beauty. Papery and whispy on the outside, spicy, hardy and full of punch on the inside – just like our favourite people.

But this little crescent of sultry, rich, headiness can provide us with one too many cooking faux pas, which can be all too easy to come unstuck on. Don’t go running to that awful tube of unidentified garlic ‘flavoured’ paste on the supermarket shelves just yet though! We are here to help you with all you need to know on mastering the art of garlicism. And yes, that is a word.

No time to peel, all the time to eat
We’ve all been here. The recipe for spaghetti says ‘just finely dice one onion and crush two cloves of garlic’. No problem…right? By the time you’ve snipped the woody end off, managed to burst the skin under your ENTIRE human body weight and peeled the thinner-than-Yellow-Pages film off the outside, it’s ten to nine and Dominoes is on its way. NO MORE! All you need to do, from now on, is a little bit of kitchen wizardry. Take a whole head of the good stuff, and place it in a metal bowl (it doesn’t have to be metal, just light enough for you to pick up and shake). Then place another bowl of the same size on top, and shake for all you’ve got. After about 30 seconds, take a quick sneaky peek and you should see little golden nuggets of peeled cloves tucked away under a snowstorm of peelings. You’ll never have to wait longer than a minute for garlic again.

How do I keep all these cloves in my fridge without stinking the place out?
Easy – olive oil. Take a clean, empty (obviously) jam jar and tumble the cloves in. Fill up to the top with the satisfying glug of Italy’s favourite fat and fasten the lid on tightly. Just pop out a clove whenever you need one. They’ll last for weeks like this, although you might want to label the jar in case small hands mistake them for sweets. Nasty shock.

I want to crush you! (With minimal struggle)
BY FAR the best way of preparing garlic to cook with is to crush it. It’s spreads beautifully through the dish without the unpleasant shock of being punched in the face by a huge lump of the stuff. So, if you want smooth paste and a means of releasing tension, halve a clove, sprinkle liberally with salt and smash several times with the base of a heavy saucepan. Smooshed and ready to go in 10 seconds. You tell me that’s not exciting stuff!

If you’re not inspired by now then, I hate to break it to you, but Twilight was probably more a documentary for you and you are a lost cause to us. For those of you itching to get cooking, here’s my recipe for 20 Garlic Clove Stew, as featured in my latest book ‘Take One Veg’. Enjoy!


Serves 4 – Prep time: 15 minutes
cook time: 40 minutes

Inspired by the Spanish Caldo Gallego stew, this is a beautiful recipe with simple
ingredients. Garlic is the star of the show, but don’t be alarmed; the cloves soften in
lengthy cooking and provide a gentle backdrop to the white beans. I suggest to serve with
a fresh gremolata, but try natural yogurt or pesto, if you prefer.

20 garlic cloves (about 2 bulbs)
25g salted butter
2 celery sticks, finely sliced into crescents
2 thyme sprigs
200ml white wine
1 x 400g can cannellini beans, drained
1 x 400g can butter beans, drained
2 bay leaves
250ml vegetable stock
75g young leaf spinach
3 tablespoons creme  fraiche

For the gremolata
2 tablespoons roughly chopped flat-leaf parsley
1 fat garlic clove, crushed
zest and juice of 2 unwaxed lemons

1)     Put the garlic cloves in a medium bowl with their papery jackets still on. Pour over boiling hot water, about 300ml, and leave for 2 minutes. Remove the garlic from the water, keeping the water for later and, as soon as the garlic is cool enough, remove the skins and cut each clove in half lengthways.
2)     Melt the butter in a heavy-based saucepan over a low heat. Add the garlic cloves, celery and thyme and cook slowly for 3–4 minutes, being careful not to colour the mix. Pour over the wine and increase the heat, allowing it to bubble and reduce by half.
3)     Stir the beans, bay leaves, vegetable stock and garlic water into your pan. Reduce the heat to low and allow the pot to bubble at a languorous pace for 30 minutes, until the sauce has both thickened and reduced in quantity. Use a potato masher to gently mash some of the mixture at this stage, making the sauce a little thicker. Stir through the young leaf spinach just before serving and allow the leaves to wilt in the warmth of the stew.
4)     Meanwhile, make the gremolata by combining the parsley, crushed garlic and lemon zest and juice.
5)      Once the beans are beautifully tender remove the pan from the heat. Stir through the crème fraîche and season well. Serve in bowls with a spoonful of gremolata over the top.