The afternoon we arrived at Bodegas Monje was utterly stunning. The sky was a shimmering turquoise and the rows of vines glowed emerald green, rolling down towards the sea. What a gorgeous place.

First up was a tour of the winery (meaning that we had to head into the gloom of the cellar… boooo.)  Still, I learned absolutely loads about wine making (the winery produce a stunning range of wines, mostly exported to the USA).

Next, it was upstairs to the rather beautiful cookery school, to get a crash course in Canarian cooking and test some of those stunning wines as well:

First on our menu was that Canarian staple (and my Disreputable Dad’s absolute favourite): papas arugadas (meaning literally ‘wrinkled potatoes’).  We had a bit of a laugh when we discovered that the type of spud used is ‘Quinegua’ – pronounce it in a Spanish accent and you’ll see exactly how it got its name: King Edward!

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We watched as the small potatoes were barely covered with boiling water and an eye watering amount of sea salt was added (at least two handfuls, but don’t worry, the potatoes will only absorb as much as they need – we tested this theory).  The potatoes were then covered and boiled for about 20 minutes, depending on size.  When tender, they were then drained and returned to the heat where they were tossed and shaken until all the remaining water was gone and they took on their traditional wrinkly, dusty appearance.  Delicious.

Next we moved on to the sauces.  Traditionally, red mojo sauce is served with meat and green with fish.   We were on the green team (the green can be coriander, but is just as often parsley or a mixture of the two) and set to work.  Mojo is traditionally made entirely by hand in a pestle and mortar and takes LOADS of elbow grease.  I bet there aren’t many bingo wings to be seen on the island, what with all that pounding!

For Green Mojo

6 cloves garlic

1 tsp sea salt

1 green pepper, deseeded and finely diced

One small (and very hot) green chilli

1/2 bunch fresh coriander (or parsley)

2 tsp cider vinegar

2 wine glasses of olive oil

First, crush the garlic with the salt, then slowly add in the green pepper, pounding until it’s all completely pulped.  Now add a tiny piece of the green chilli (to taste, but if they’re as hot as the ones on Tenerife, a teeny tiny square is all you need), then add in the coriander and keep pounding. When everything is completely pulped, add in the vinegar ad the oil.

We added a handful of crushed almonds and sultanas, which adds a little sweetness and thickens the sauce, but this is optional, as is an avocadeo, which adds a lovely creaminess.

For Red Mojo

3 cloves garlic

1 tsp salt

1 red pepper, deseeded and finely chopped

1 red chilli (again, as much as you like, but a small piece if they’re the very hot fiery ones)

1 slice toasted bread

2 tsp red wine vinegar

2 wine glasses olive oil

1 tsp sweet paprika

Again with the red, the garlic is pounded with the salt before the other ingredients are added one by one, making sure they’re completely broken down before the next ingredient is added.  The toasted bread works as the thickener in the red mojo.  Both were absolutely delicious.  We ate the red mojo with some pulled pork and those gorgeous potatoes.

We also had a demonstration of how the locals eat Gofio, the baked corn flour from the mill we visited in La Orotava.  The Gofio is mixed with ground raisins and almonds, milk, a splash of water and local honey.  It’s worked into a firm dough and that’s it.  It’s eaten sliced with goats’ cheese, and maybe even some mojo sauce.  We were divided on the gofio but I thought it was really lovely.

I adored the food on Tenerife: the seafood was delicious and very fresh (the ‘wreckfish’ was delicious, but I’m struggling to find out whether this is just local to Tenerife, or if it’s called by another name elsewhere), and obviously we ate an enormous amount of flan (I suppose we would say creme caramel), delicious custardy slabs, sometimes served with the dark caramel sauce, or sometimes with other little drizzly sauces, but often just plain.

Muy delicioso!

If you’d like to see more foodie photos from my trip, check out my Facebook page.

We LOVE lentils.  The texture is almost creamy, satisfying in that way that only a big dollop of mashed potatoes is usually satisfying, plus of course they have the added bonus of being VERY good for you and low fat too.  This recipe is one of our favourites – I often make double and blend the leftovers with stock the next day to make soup.  It’s best, though, served with some big, fat, meaty sausages: our favourites being the ones from Jimmy’s Farm.  Nommers.

You will need:

1 tablespoon rapeseed oil

1 onion, finely chopped

2-3 carrots, diced

1 leek, finely chopped

1 tin chopped tomatoes

150g red lentils

500ml chicken stock (or I often use leftover gravy from a roast dinner topped up with water)

Salt and pepper

So heat up the oil in a big saucepan and bung in the chopped onion, carrots and leek (any old veg will do, really).  Give them a little sprinkling of salt and a quick stir around then leave them on low for a good ten minutes to soften.  A little sprinkling of dried chilli flakes wouldn’t go amiss at this stage either.

After that you can just bung everything else in, really.  Leave it on low, pop a lid on and go and do something else for half an hour.  Oh and don’t forget to pop your big, fat sausages in to the oven – they’ll take about 30 minutes too, at 200 degrees/gas 6.

Check the seasoning and away you go.  I’ll warn you, it’s very moreish, so it’s best that you make double.

So, after promising you a couple of healthy recipes, I then buggered off and promptly forgot all about them.  Sorry.

Anyhoo, here I am, back live and a week into my alcohol free month.  It’s going well.  It’s going really well.  I feel fab – and after the amazing facial, my skin’s feeling fab too.  I’m drinking much more water (Katy told me that your body often mistakes thirst for hunger) and one of the biggest changes for me has been lunch.  I’ve switched from a sandwich and a packet of crisps, to a bowl of soup, and it’s made an amazing difference.

Why switch to soup?

Well, firstly, if you make it yourself, you know exactly what’s in it.  You can pack it full of veggies (great for that half a butternut squash left in the fridge, or a half packet of green beans that got forgotten) and it’s really low fat.  If you’ve got leftover chicken or beef in the fridge, you can add that in too.  Do what I do and make a great big vat of the stuff and store it in the fridge so it’s easy to grab and stops that lunchtime dithering thing that can see you reaching for a lump of cheese and a box of crackers (or is that just me?).  And remember, lentils are your friend.

Why lentils?

Lentils are, and I don’t use this word lightly, a real superfood.  They’re full of fibre and loads of other fab stuff like iron and B vitamins and are great for providing that protein kick you need at lunchtime to see you through the day. They also have the advantage of being a great thickener, so if you’re trying to eat healthily they’re an excellent addition to soups and stews.  They absorb flavours really well and have a mild, almost nutty taste themselves.

Get colourful

A good rule of thumb when making soup is to make sure you have lots of different colours going in there.  Different coloured veg generally provide different vitamins and minerals, so bung in some carrots or butternut squash, then choose something green (freeze a bag of spinach so you can grab a handful) and maybe, say, a red onion too.  Here’s a quick recipe, but once you get the hang of it, you’ll be making a different variety every time and you’ll never get bored.

Vary your seasoning

Think past salt and pepper.  Sweeter vegetables like parsnips and carrots go really well with a bit of earthy spice… tomatoes go well with chilli… have an experiment.

Lentil and vegetable soup

There are no hard and fast rules here.. add what you like and leave out what you don’t.

1 tablespoon rapeseed oil

1 onion, peeled and chopped

Variety of veg, peeled and chopped (three or four double handfuls should do it).  I used:

3 large carrots

1 large parsnip

1/2 butternut squash

1/2 bag watercress and rocket salad

Thick slice of savoy cabbage, chopped

2 litres chicken stock (or veg stock – cube is fine)

About 150 – 200g red lentils

So heat up the oil in a very large saucepan.  Add in the onion and fry until translucent.   If you’re adding spice, add it now – stir it around with the onions and oil until you can really smell it (I know that sounds weird, but it works).  Now, add in all your prepared veg, then pour over the stock.  Add in the lentils (use less if you prefer your soup thinner).  Simmer for about 20 minutes or until tender, then blitz with a stick blender.

I’ve been writing on Ready for Ten recently (I would link to it but it’s not published yet – patience, grasshopper) about the age old dilemma of getting the kids to eat enough fruit and veg. I make this sauce a lot (I use it as soup as well) and although it’s got plenty of green veg in, it still looks like plain ol’ tomato which puts paid to ‘ewww – what’s that?’ – my most favourite dinnertime question. Plus, of course, there’s the satisfaction of getting one over on your kids, which is always a bonus.

Of course, even if your family will happily eat their five a day, it’s still a great tea-time all rounder.  You can:

• add in other veg, increase the stock and serve as soup with some easy herby bread
• tart it up with 1/2 tsp chilli flakes (put them in at the beginning) and some fried streaky bacon strips
• add basil and pour over pan-fried meatballs
• use in lasagnes and bolognese
• stir into a pack of tortellini (spinach and ricotta is our favourite) and sprinkle with Parmesan
• pour over chicken breasts, dot with torn pieces of mozzarella and bake in the oven

I could go on, but frankly I’m starting to bore myself, but you get the message: it’s incredibly versatile.  It has a lovely mellow sweet flavour too.  This quantity makes enough to cover pasta for four people and a portion for the freezer too.  Ninja costumes at the ready, then:

You will need:

1 large leek
1 large onion
2 tbsp rapeseed oil
1 tsp salt
1 tin good quality tomatoes (don’t use the cheapo ones, they’re too runny)
The same amount of stock (chicken, veg, bouillon, whatever)
1 tsp sugar
Freshly ground pepper

So slice the leek lengthways and rinse under running water to remove any grit or mud. Chop finely.

Heat the rapeseed oil in a heavy-based saucepan and pop in the leek. Finely chop the onion and add that in too. Sprinkle with the salt and then cook on a low heat, stirring occasionally for a good ten minutes until everything is well softened.

Add in a tsp of sugar and the tinned tomatoes. Fill the tin once more with the stock (if I don’t have any home made I just pop in a stock cube and top it up with boiling water). Add in to the pan.

Now just cover and leave it for half an hour. This bit’s really important – everything needs to be really soft to get the texture right. After that, you can remove from the heat, blend with a stick blender and test the seasoning (add pepper or a touch more salt).  You’ll end up with a really gorgeous smooth sauce and – here’s the bonus – no hint of anything green in there.

I love a bit of stealth health.  Off you go, then, team…

One of my favourite recipe books is a very old and slightly crusty ‘Curry Club’ book called 250 Favourite Curries and Accompaniments that my Mum bought me years ago.  I was searching high and low for it earlier as I’m currently suffering from a glut of courgettes, and knew that I’d seen a recipe for spicy fritters in there.  But no, it was nowhere to be seen (it’s since turned up, obviously the ‘where the f*ck has that gone?’ gremlin has finished with it now).

Anyhoo, I had a rough idea what do so, along with the help of the BBC Good Food website, which had a similar recipe for courgette fritters (not quite right, the courgettes were sliced), pretty much worked out how to do them.  And here they are (with apologies to the people of Northern India, who will no doubt be shaking their heads at my terrible and not very authentic version of one of their best-loved spicy snacks.

You will need:

Several courgettes (of varying sizes and comically rude shapes, if they’re anything like mine)

1 red onion, halved and finely sliced

1 chilli, deseeded and finely chopped

Large pinch salt

2 tsp curry powder (or you can make your own mix of the usual suspects: cumin, coriander, turmeric, chilli, etc)

Chopped fresh coriander (big handful should do it)

150g self raising flour (or, to be more authentic, use half gram flour)*

Grate all the courgettes and place them in a sieve over a bowl.  Sprinkle with salt and leave for an hour or two.

You’ll be amazed at how much excess water they give up.  Discard the water and place the grated courgette into a bowl.

Add in the onion, chilli, salt, curry powder and coriander, break in the egg, then sprinkle over the flour.  Stir it all together as much as you can.

Now slowly add cold water, about a tablespoon at a time, until you’ve got a really thick paste (you’ll probably need around 100ml or so, but judge it by eye).

Leave this to one side while you heat up a wok or large saucepan with a good couple of inches of oil (groundnut is fine).  Once the oil is hot (for god’s sake be careful here) – you can test this by popping in a little bit of the batter and seeing if it sizzles – just drop in tablespoons of the batter and fry:

When the first side is a deep golden brown, flip them over in the oil and cook the other side:

Drain on kitchen paper and serve with a nice yoghurt and mint dip, or maybe some mango chutney.  Noms.

*Gram flour is made from ground chickpeas and also happens to be gluten free.  I didn’t have any, but I’m going to use it next time as I suspect it may give an even crisper result.

So that’s it, then.  The big day is shortly upon us and I’m looking forward to a small family Christmas (just us, English Grandma and maybe Mad Uncle Ali in the afternoon) at our new little house in Hertfordshire.

Wherever you are and whoever you’re with, I wish you all a wonderful, indulgent Christmas.

And as always, remember to chill out, have fun, stick on your glad rags, enjoy your precious loved ones, have a few cocktails, don’t shout at the children (or at least count to ten first), don’t worry about  your waistline, don’t drink and drive (I need you!), do give someone everyone you love a kiss under the mistletoe, say you love it even if you hate it, carry a hankie, say please and thank you, keep your hand on your ha’penny… and have a glass of champers on me.

Now, let me think what you might need:

Firstly, of course, you’ll need a really good festive cocktail recipe.  This little beauty was sent to me by naughty ol’ Maxi Cane.  It’s called ‘A Mouthful of Maxi’:

1 regular spirit measure (35ml) of Peach Schnapps.

1 dash (15ml approx) of orange liqueur (Triple Sec/Cointreau/Grand Marnier)

1 dash of Crème de Cassis liqueur (blackcurrant)

1 dash of Crème de Banane liqueur

200 – 250ml (depending on your taste) of cranberry juice

Shake well over crushed ice and take it easy – these babies are evil!

Now, if you can still stand up, to the dinner:

If you need any help with the turkey, just click here.

Remember, once the turkey’s cooked it’ll sit happily for at least an hour, covered in foil and tucked snugly under a couple of teatowels, while you cook the roasties, etc.

If you don’t like Christmas pudding, I can heartily recommend my chocolate fondants, and finally, if you need stuffing (ahem), then you can’t do better than my easy peasy apple and red onion stuffing (serves 4-6, double up as necessary):

1 tbsp butter

1 red onion, finely chopped

1 dessert apple, peeled and finely chopped

225g pork sausage meat

100g fresh white breadcrumbs

1 tbsp fresh parsley, chopped

1 tbsp fresh sage, chopped

Squeeze of lemon juice

1  Preheat the oven to 190ºC/gas mark 5.  Heat the butter in a frying pan, add the onion and fry gently until soft.  Add the apple and cook until softened.  Remove from the heat, transfer to a bowl and allow to cool.

2  Stir the sausage meat and breadcrumbs into the onion mixture along with the herbs and lemon juice.  Stir until well combined.  You can put a little in the neck end of the turkey (I’m not a fan of stuffing the main cavity – I think it stops the hot air circulating), or squish it into a buttered oven-proof dish and bake for 25 minutes.

Off you trot, then.  Big hugs, even bigger wet kisses and lots of love

xxxx

‘And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow, stood puzzling and puzzling, how could it be so?
It came without ribbons. It came without tags. It came without packages, boxes or bags.
And he puzzled and puzzled ’till his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn’t before.
What if Christmas, he thought, doesn’t come from a store?  What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more?’

So one of my happier experiments in the garden were these little beauties.  They did have a name, but I’ve bloody forgotten now, although I’m sure Poppy’s Mum or GrowUp, my gardening gurus, will let me know in due course.  Yesterday, then, we decided to pick one and test it out. 

‘Ooh’, said #1, ‘cauliflower cheese!’. 

‘Yum’, said I. 

‘Bleurgh’, said the other two. 

There’s no pleasing some people.

Here, then, are step by step guidelines to making your own creamy, cheesy sauce.  What you do with it is entirely up to you: stir it through pasta and bake for easy mac and cheese, use it to layer through your lasagne, pile it on thick toast and grill it…. frankly, you can smother yourself in it from head to toe if you like… be my guest.  Anyhoo, digressing.  Here she blows, then:

Firstly, make the cheese sauce:

1 tbsp butter

1 tbsp plain flour

About 200g random cheese: I used Wexford Cheddar and Parmesan

400ml milk (ish)

Salt and pepper

Okay, so I know this is all sounding a bit random, but honestly it’s pretty hard to get this wrong.  Just melt a nice big tablespoon of butter in a saucepan on a low heat:

Then whop in your tablespoon of plain flour.  Keep stirring over a low heat while you ‘cook out’ the flour and make a nice smooth paste (or ‘roux’ if you’re feeling a bit cheffy):

Now slowly mix in the milk, stirring all the time.  As it bubbles, the mixture will thicken.  If it’s too thick, add a little more milk.  Season with a little salt and pepper (purists use white pepper so there’s no black bits) and that’s your basic white sauce.  To make it into a cheese sauce, just chop up and add in some random cheese:

I used Cheddar and Parmigiano, but you can use whatever takes your fancy.  Red Leicester makes it a pretty colour, and blue cheese makes a ridiculously good sauce for steak or pasta.  Word of advice, here, people, courtesy as usual of English Grandma: don’t grate the cheese – you’ll end up with a big clump that takes ages to melt – chunks melt far easier (I’m a mine of useless information, me).

Now, for cauliflower cheese, blanch your comedy vegetable by plunging into some boiling, salted water until just tender:

…pop into an ovenproof dish, pour over your cheesy sauce of choice, top with a little more grated cheese, and bake in the oven at good ol’ 180 degrees/gas 4 for about 20 minutes or until golden and bubbling:

Serve with some big, fat spicy sausages, or a roast dinner, or just on its own as an easy supper.  If you’re going for the full body masque, though, go steady on the pepper.

So the ongoing battle here at English Towers is between the chilli lovers and the not-so-chilli lovers.  Hubby and #1 would have us eating amounts of chilli that, frankly, would have normal people running madly around in circles, flapping their arms and making choo choo noises with steam coming out of their ears, whereas me and the small, accident-prone version can only handle a gentle amount of spice.  Pizza making is always contentious with the chilli monsters wanting whole slices of red chilli on theirs, and curries, frankly are a minefield.  This dhal, then, has had several incarnations – starting from the 2 tsp crushed chilli version that was truly, ridiculously, spasm-inducingly hot, to this version which is gently warming with a nice hit at the back of the throat.  But hey, if you’re a chilli thug, whop in the whole 2 tsp and warn the family to take a step back – it’s got a kick like a very cross mule:

1 tsp mustard seeds

1 tsp cumin seeds

1 tsp coriander seeds

1 scant tsp dried chilli (or 2 heaped tsp if you’re a chilli monster)

2 tbsp oil

1 red onion, thinly sliced

1 tsp salt

1 tsp turmeric

1 tsp sugar

1 tsp grated ginger (I keep mine in the freezer and grate it from frozen)

750ml chicken stock

200g red split lentils

1 tsp garam masala

So firstly, take a dry frying pan, put it on a low heat and put in the mustard seeds, cumin seeds, coriander seeds and the dried chilli.  Let it toast very gently, stirring constantly, just until you see the very first bit of popping and your nose is filled with lovely toasty spicy smells.  Watch it carefully as it burns easily (oh and feel free to go ‘ooh’ and ‘ahhh’ at my immaculately clean hob – I’d just spent half an hour removing the remnants of the rice which boiled over just to piss me off): 

Bung the toasted spices into the pestle and mortar and grind them into a powder.  If you can’t be arsed with this bit (which makes an excellent dinner party showing off display), just use the mustard seeds as they are and use ground cumin, coriander and chilli instead.  It tastes just as nice (shhh).

Now, take a heavy-based pan and pour in the 2 tbsp oil.  Bung in the sliced onion, sprinkle with the salt and fry gently until softened.  Now add in the spice blend along with the turmeric, sugar and grated ginger, stirring well until it’s all pasty and combined.

Pour in the chicken stock and add in the red lentils.  Bung a lid on and leave to cook for about 20 minutes by which stage the lentils will be soft and fragrant.  Stir in the garam masala and taste for seasoning.

Serve with some easy cheaty flatbreads, or for a more substantial meal you can add the tandoori chicken and some basmati rice too.  Some nice raita made with plain yoghurt, grated cucumber and a handful of chopped fresh mint wouldn’t go amiss either.

This is another healthy recipe (blimey, that’s two in a row) and the veg quota can be easily oomphed up with, say, a couple of handfuls of spinach (I buy those bags of baby spinach and bung them straight in the freezer) or some chopped tomato.  I did it the other day with some roasted butternut squash and it was very nice indeed.  Just go steady with the chilli if you don’t want your guests doing the locomotion around the garden (whoop whoop!).