The Sugar Bar

Have I been missed? I’ve been away for quite a bit that’s for sure (nose deep in books, essays and my laptop til my eyes crossed) and so has the sun. But just for today (can’t be too confident with English weather) – for one day only? – the sun is out and I’m back with a quick and scrummy blogpost.

When summer arrives in its fully glory, I have less exciting food cravings and more urges for ice cream and fruit. I’ve some friends who completely lose their appetites too which of course is just a little sad. If its unbearably hot and humid, I get too grumpy to even bother with food. My cure is to sit on the patio, feet soaking in the koi pond whilst I guzzle down jugs of iced water or soda. One way to restart your tastebuds, however, I find is eating something with a combination of flavours like hot and spicy, sweet and sour, sweet and savoury. And that brings me to this seasoning for bibimguksu noodles, or a Korean spicy mixed noodle dish. I don’t have all the right ingredients but what I really wanted was the sauce so I decided to use the recipe for its seasoning and whack it into my own concoction of ingredients that I had on hand. This is not authentic bibimguksu I’m afraid.

I’m unembarrassed to say I’m currently going through a barren-fridge moment. Living off junk and processed foods, completely in line with being a starving student/artist type. I know students get so much mick taken out of them and wrongly accused for being bad cooks, etc. I beg to differ. The student race can be pretty talented at cooking, a discerning food shopper and foodie right down to his/her toes. Only when the going gets tough, do we get a little lazy. Doing the washing up, food shopping, cooking properly on the hob all gets thrown out the window for takeaway, cold sandwiches bought cheaply from Tesco, dry cereal, microwaveable meals and cuppa soups. I shudder even as I type that but yea, that’s really my life at the moment. I hope you can sense the dread and utter unwillingness.

I’m starting to lose my train of thought now and before this post actually gets nowhere and bores everyone to death, let’s just say I was pretty glad to have fresh ingredients between my hands this afternoon, to get out the chopping board and to see a real proper hot meal appear before my eyes in the kitchen. This is quick and I swear, one of the best sauces for preparing noodles. Totally delicious.

Recipe can be found on My Korean Kitchen that is a wonderful reservoir of Korean recipes. Here, I’ve reproduced the part containing the seasoning.

I’ve used soft egg noodles and fried it with onions, garlic, yellow peppers, sansai vegetables and codfish. Fry this all together, then add the pre-mixed bibimguksu sauce and garnish with whatever you fancy; some ideas like boiled eggs, black sesame seeds, chilli pepper, spring onions.

Bibimguksu sauce
Ingredients
2 tbs gochujang (Korean hot pepper paste)
2 tbs rice vinegar
1 tbs soy sauce
1 tbs honey
1 tbs sesame oil
1 tbs brown sugar
sesame seeds, lightly toasted (for garnish)

This yields 2 servings.

Mix together well. Set aside until use for mixing into noodles.

When it comes to cooking, not that I know or am skillful at all cooking methods, deep-frying is one of those things I avoid. Shallow-frying, on the other hand, I find thoroughly satisfying. The latter is not any big achievement for sure. It’s just hot fat in a pan, and in you stick your food, out comes this deliciousness with a fairly crispy exterior. Dead easy. But the sizzling of hot fat in a pan is music to my ears, the scent of whatever you’re cooking wafts up so much quicker than steaming or boiling or stewing. It doesn’t pervade the whole kitchen and surrounding rooms as roasting in the oven does but it certainly is eau de parfum compared to eau de toilette.

And there’s something quite therapeutic about watching fresh sage leaves frying in a pan and watching them darken, curl then crisp up. Almost a bit like fresh prawns going from grey to crimson, curling as they cook from the heat. What a sight! I’ve been mulling about quite a few things lately, and there’s lots of stuff I don’t personally approve of happening at work so it was quite nice to empty my mind of everything and simply focus on preparing myself a hot cooked lunch.

I last had gnocchi at Cafe Uno with loads of assorted mushrooms and a green pea sauce. The dinner crowd wasn’t huge and we were the only non-family trio there with a bottle of white to share. I’d not dined at Cafe Uno before but considering how delicious my gnocchi was, I wouldn’t mind going back again for more. Except, I remembered ogling at a plate of burnt butter and sage gnocchi over at Manggy’s blog and it looked far more delicious than what Cafe Uno had served up (no offense). The way Manggy seared his gnocchi and scattered the sage leaves on the plate…you need no words to describe it, except some flutterings of the heart. And there, I can’t help but say homecooking simply is the best. I love eating out but recreating similar dishes at home is just as wonderful, if not more.

This really is a non-recipe. Just add butter to a frying pan on gentle heat. When the butter melts, add the sage leaves and fry until they crisp up. I followed Manggy’s method of removing the sage leaves but added a tiny squeeze of lemon juice to the hot butter. Once the gnocchi were cooked, I drained and then added it to the hot butter. Quick toss then transferred to a warm plate, seasoned with salt and black pepper before adding the reserved sage leaves to the gnocchi.

The salty creaminess of feta, tanginess of lemon, the licorice-laced crisp flavours of fennel, the explosive sweetness of Sultan’s Jewel tomatoes, the mild honeyish pomegranate seeds and the nuttiness of edamame all brought together in harmony by the grassiness of good extra virgin olive oil.

And to think sometimes I forget why salads are so addictive, so all-encompassing and very beautiful to look at. If something so simple (and simply put together) can taste so good, lifting my spirits with each bite, I’m never going to underestimate the humble salad ever again.

A friend once offered me a bottle of salad dressing, to which I turned it down saying I don’t really eat salad dressing. I enjoy salads mostly as they are – their component parts with no oily, wet dressing that splatters everywhere when I’ve got leafy bits sticking out between my lips like a goat. I don’t know if it’s some weird purist mentality I’ve got but that’s pretty much how I usually like my salads. Or if I really had to go for a salad dressing, then extra virgin olive oil and loads of balsamic vinegar which I love with a great passion. Anything mayonnaise-y, or something thick like thousand island dressing really puts me off. Not that I can’t stomach it, I just won’t enjoy it as much. And give my tummy a few hours, it’d probably start feeling a little upset and gurgling like it was part of a string orchestra. I kid you not. Therefore I stress clean, crisp flavours always. That’s just the way forward.

After months of wishing after the Ottolenghi cookbook, and the torturous process of having to see my beautiful foodie friends blog about their Ottolenghi recipes, experiences, it was high time I finally got my own copy. And I did. And it was such a luxury – a stylishly put-together cookbook with a glossy white cover; my heart was beating twice as fast and doing little skips as I flipped through the pages, eyeing the pulses and vegetables, curbing the urge to start sticking little 3M sticky notes in there with a frenzy for potential lunches and so forth. Happiness is moi. (Yes I’m so easily pleased with new cookbooks. But aren’t we foodies all a species of that sort? I’m eyeing the The French Laundry Cookbook next.) I’ve always been a fan of Ottolenghi food ever since I moved to London and even before I did, I’d browsed through the cookbook thinking how gorgeous the food must taste. Then I started visiting the Islington branch since I live just a little way from it. There was no turning back. I became a true fan. Unfortunately, I always felt a bit like a muggle or a half-blood without the cookbook. And having to queue for half a day (yes I exaggerate) or resorting to take-aways to get Ottolenghi grub in my mouth, down my esophagus and then safely into my stomach whenever I have a craving seems much too complicated. Remember, I am lazy.

Equipped with my new cookbook, life seems so rosy. With the beautiful weather too, it’s about time I shove that crabbiness so typical of my character somewhere where the sun don’t shine. I can’t wait to try out more of the recipes and actually, that’s probably not gonna change the fact that I’d still be hopping on a bus to Angel to take-away Ottolenghi cakes (and then eating them in the dark corners of my bedroom – on my own – a la Gollum) or meeting friends there for lunch.

On a final note, let me just say that I’m not just OCD, a perfectionist and anal (please, no crude jokes) to the point of being annoying. I also plan like a high-strung freak (not that I’m high-strung at all. I just have this thing about planning.) But here’s a confession – I’ve booked my sister and I in for dinner at Ottolenghi 2 MONTHS in advance. Yea, so I’m totally off my trolley like that. Crazy.

The original recipe uses tarragon instead of basil and adds no tomatoes or edamame. This makes about 4 servings.

Fennel and Feta with Pomegranate Seeds, Edamame & Sumac
Recipe adapted from the original (p.17) in Ottolenghi: The Cookbook
Ingredients

1/2 pomegranate
2 medium fennel heads
4 tbs fresh edamame beans
1/2 cup cherry/plum tomatoes
1 1/2tbs olive oil
2 tsp crushed sumac, plus extra for garnish
juice of 1 lemon
4 tbs fresh basil leaves, roughly shredded
2 tbs fresh flatleaf parsley, roughly chopped
70g Greek feta cheese
salt and ground black pepper, for seasoning

Remove pomegranate seeds from the fruit. Be careful not to bruise them or break the skin. You can purchase pomegranate seeds also fresh from the cut fruit section in major supermarkets.

Remove leaves from the fennel, reserving some for garnish later. Trim the base, making sure there’s still enough left on to hold the slices together. Slice very thinly lengthwise. Place sliced fennel, herbs, edamame and cherry tomatoes in a large salad bowl.

In another bowl, mix the olive oil, sumac, lemon juice, herbs and some salt and pepper. Add this to the salad bowl, toss well. Taste for seasoning and adjust to taste.

To serve, layer the fennel, then the feta and then the pomegranate seeds. Garnish with reserved fennel leaves, sprinkle with sumac and more parsley leaves if you have any lying about. Serve.