Ckbk is a great resource, an online cookbook library you can search by ingredient, dish or technique. And Isn’t Consuming Passions just the best name for a feature about enthusiasm-sparking ingredients? The archive has some great stuff too, from Kim Kong Kimchi-maker and Of Cabbages and Kings author James Read on all things fermented to food historian Neil Buttery on liver.
Recipe: Marrowfat pea falafel
I had run out of soup from the freezer and wanted something a bit more exciting than the usual bowl of salad-y stuff I throw together for lunch when working from home. There were pink pickled turnips in the fridge, the bright pink batons often served with falafel, and they made me crave something fluffy-crunchy in a pitta.
I was after near-instant gratification meaning there was no time to soak chickpeas or fava beans. But there was a random tin of marrowfat peas in the cupboard. This recipe was the outcome. It makes eight falafel, enough for two if you serve them with all the accoutrements.
Blitz and rest the mixture. Put all the ingredients except the sesame seeds in a food processor and blitz to a coarse purée. Taste and add more salt if necessary. If you have time, put the mixture in the fridge for 30 minutes or so. It will hold together better if you do.
Shape and coat the falafel. Make 30g balls of the marrowfat pea mixture then flatten each into discs. You can do this by forming your thumb and forefinger into the internationally-recognised sign for “A-OK” around the ball and gently squeezing the sides.
Afterwards, if you like, coat each patty with sesame seeds.
Cook the falafel. There’s no way I can be faffed with deep-frying at lunchtime but oven-cooked versions lack crunch and are just a bit sad. Shallow frying is a reasonable compromise. Put a couple of tablespoons of olive or vegetable oil in a frying pan over a medium-high heat and wait until it shimmers. Add the felafel, making sure you have room to get a spatula in to turn them - do it in batches if necessary. Cook until brown and crunchy (approximately five minutes) then flip gently and cook the other side. Serve immediately with all or some of the extras.
Notes (If Ifs And Ands Were Pots And Pans…)
Gram flour is better than plain here. It keeps things gluten free and doesn’t get claggy. But plain will work in a pinch. Baking powder makes things lighter and fluffier.
Coating with sesame seeds is an optional step but nice and crunchy and looks pretty.
I ate this in a pitta bread but it was a delicious mess so no photos exist. Apologies.
Cultural Fun
My brother came to stay with his kids over half term and I attempted to make good on the Aunty Clare Experiences vouchers I doled out at Christmas.
I took 6-year-old Oliver to The Moonwalkers a Tom Hanks-narrated “immersive experience” at Lightroom. Which was good although I wouldn’t say it’s super-immersive. Yes, there was stuff projected on all four walls but not so you felt like you were on the moon. You didn’t quite know where to look and and were constantly worried about missing something.
With Alex, who is 9, I went on the London Eye. Which was great. Even on a slightly rainy day you could see for miles. Alex was scared of the height at first but eventually edged towards the edge of the pod when I pointed out “where James Bond works”.
The baking class I’d booked to do with my 12-year-old niece Emma was cancelled at short notice but we’ll do it another time. Instead we had a wander round the Wallace Collection together which was a treat. They are currently celebrating “Open Furniture Month” with a mini-exhibition of desks etc. boasting hidden compartments. Emma was especially taken with a bureau where fake books concealed a hidey-hole.
And of course they’ve got the Laughing Cavalier who always elicits a smile in response and The Swing which is a joy. Doesn’t your heart rise in an arc with that coquettishly kicked-off slipper?
I saw The Brutalist and A Complete Unknown at the weekend. That brings me to a total of five out of ten of the Best Picture nominees but, since I’m on my way up to Newcastle to teach a weekend of workshops, the others will sadly remain unwatched. Before the ceremony at least.
I haven’t love-love-loved any of them but here’s my ranking of the of the five I’ve seen:
Conclave. Contains more plot than Best Picture nominees are usually allowed to have these days. Looked beautiful and was an intriguing insight into a secretive procedure. Great performances all round and evoked interesting questions of how the mysteries of faith balance with politics and ambition.
The Brutalist. Yes. I made it through all three and an half hours and was glad to have done so. I don’t think any film needs to be that long though (maybe make a mini-series instead?) and my mind was wandering near the end. But it’s undoubtedly powerful. Creative ambition, historical trauma and all.
Anora. Too much shouting in the middle section but wonderful performances and funny in parts.
A Complete Unknown. I enjoyed this but am not sure it needed to be made. I was hoping for insight but the clue’s in the title. Bob Dylan is enigmatic. I get it. Still, as musical biopics go, it had a proper narrative arc: early career through to going electric. Which is more than can be said for Baz Luhman’s 2022 Elvis which whizzed through The King’s whole life and felt like a feature-length montage.
The Substance. Completely crazy. In a good way. The plot doesn’t stand up to any scrutiny at all but it was a pleasing shriek of multi-coloured rage.
For anyone interested, the most recent episode of the 99% Invisible podcast was great at putting The Brutalist in context. It covered the aesthetic movement itself as well as the history of architects in films.
I also went to see Bridget Jones: Mad About The Boy (life isn’t all three-hour architecture epics). It’s sad. Much sadder than I expected it to be, even though I’ve read the book and knew that Mark Darcy was dead. (Not really a spoiler - it’s in the trailer and is made clear only a few minutes in.)
Leo Woodall is perfect as Bridget’s toyboy “Roxter” and there is a ridiculous but very pleasing scene in which he dives, fully clothed, into a swimming pool, referencing both the 1992 “Swimmer” Levis ad and Colin Firth’s wet-shirted Mr Darcy. But Renee Zellwegger had zero chemistry with Chiwetel Ejiofor, the other (“age appropriate”) romantic lead.
Hugh Grant absolutely stole the show as aging lothario Daniel Cleaver, now “Uncle Daniel” to Bridget’s kids and a confidante to their bereaved mother.
I’ve grown up with Bridget - I read the columns in the Independent when I was a teenager - and still find her very relatable in middle age.
Bye! See you next week!
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Love the sound of the falafels- although I am a serial failure whenever I try to make falafels - they just dissolve in the oil. I think I must have done something VERY bad in a past life..
Love the sound of the falafels- although I am a serial failure whenever I try to make falafels - they just dissolve in the oil. I think I must have done something VERY bad in a past life..