Pollo alla diavola is one of the first dishes I learnt to make at a cookery workshop I attended when we moved to the Netherlands. Up until then my repertoire of Italian cuisine was limited to pizza and pasta (especially the kind you pick up the phone and order / comes in a box and is ready in a few minutes). I cooked this yesterday and I can proudly say I’ve come a long way.
If Oggie is awake while I’m cooking I like to put him in his rocker and place him just outside the kitchen where he can watch me cook. This also gives us the opportunity to have deep conversations about the latest kitchen appliances, the ingredients I’m cooking with and smell some spices. Today when I decided to make these cauliflower and paneer pakodas I wasn’t sure about the kind of binder I wanted to use. So I held up two fingers and asked him to choose between chickpea flour and cornstarch. He very cutely grabbed both fingers with his hands and that ultimately ended up being a great choice.
Made these a couple of days ago since I couldn’t stop thinking about thin crust pizzas ever since a friend posted a picture of one. The Domestic Man’s recipe from his book ‘The Ancestral Table’ for gluten-free pizza never disappoints.
Here are some pictures
This is my recipe for Okonomiyaki, but you can add anything to it.
1. Cook bacon / panchetta until the fat is rendered. Set aside the bacon and in the bacon fat cook finely sliced onions and cabbage. The onions should be light brown and the cabbage should still have a crunch. Take it off the heat.
2. Add finely chopped pickled ginger (optional) to the onion and cabbage mix above. Add bacon and salt and pepper to taste.
3. In a bowl whisk eggs and add the above cabbage mix to it.
4. Cook it in a pan until it’s done on both sides.
1. Sprinkle some toasted nori flakes and finely chopped spring onions on the omelette
2. Spoon some mayonnaise onto the omelette. Also mix of Worcestershire sauce, ketchup and soya sauce and spoon this onto the omelette
3. Finally add bonito flakes / katsuobushi
When I connected with my schoolmates a few weeks ago little did I imagine it would trigger the start of a new kind of education – food education. Presenting makhane ki kheer made out of popped lotus seeds which until a few days ago I didn’t know existed, let alone cooked with.
If you live outside Europe, there’s a good chance that you haven’t heard of Dutch cuisine. Considering the Dutch have been world travellers since the medieval times it stands to reason that at least some of their dishes would be popular. It’s true that Gouda cheese is a popular export, Heineken is a well-known food-related brand and there is the occasional ‘Amsterdam chips‘ in Italy. Even touristy things like raw herring with onions and the stroopwafel (literally: syrup waffle) are semi-popular. But what is real Dutch food and is it worth going on a search for?
First off credit where it’s due: Rosa plans all our trips and I usually just go along. It’s an adventure not having a clue as to what you’re doing next. Also I’m lazy. That being said, this was very different from the city trips we usually do. We always travel by public transport and in Europe at least that’s not much of a problem for us. We’ve seen quite a few countries this way and none of us is really a car person, although truth be told: I’m lazy. Annnnnyyyhooo…
We spent the first night in Basel. Getting from the airport to the city is really easy, with a bus running every 7 minutes (we landed on a Wednesday morning). The city itself seemed rather staid to us. Fun fact: Basel is located at the borders of Switzerland, France and Germany and the city has suburbs that extend into these countries.
“I’ve forgotten my residence permit”, Rosa said as I waited for her on my bike. “I’ll be right back.”
I was a bit worried about making it to the ceremony on time. We should have left five minutes ago. This was important, even ‘once-in-a-lifetime’ important, and with none of the hyperbole that so often goes with that phrase.
The São Bento station’s delicately painted blue tiles depicted scenes from Portugal’s history. As we walked ahead, sombre stone buildings glistened in the light of dusk like grumpy old men judging my actions. And I felt guilty. Guilty of not expecting more, guilty of not doing my homework before the trip. I avoided their gaze as we walked from the station to our hotel through the historic centre of the city of Porto that has been around since the fourth century. I knew then that this visit was going to be about more than just port wine.