Spiced Warm Carrot and Chickpea Salad

“What’s for dinner?” he asked. As is my want I proceeded to regale him with a, perhaps, long winded description of our dinner which for the most part amounted to meat and two veg. As I offered my detailed, and I thought fascinating, description of the dish I could see him glaze over, unrelentingly I pushed on. Patiently, he indulged me smirking at the end and announcing, “that was like Korean Rocket Fuel.’

A no doubt, strange link but one that makes perfect sense to us. One of those quirky sayings between couples. Years ago in a perhaps delusional moment during one of many geo political crises in the northern Asian region he proceeded to explain why the threat was possibly not as alarming as the media were leading us to believe. Korean rocket fuel it seems is not as technologically advanced as that used in the west. Or so I could glean from the very little of that conversation I understood and indeed remember. It’s almost like code for us now, one of us starts glazing over the other asks “Korean rocket fuel?” if met by a polite but indifferent nod, we change the subject. Not that we’re not interested in each other’s interests but rather that the detail can get in the way of a good story as it were.

Meat and veg was the staple of Australian diets for decades, or meat and three veg as it was coined. On the plates of our childhoods that looked like a piece of meat well done, and a collection of boiled veg alongside, also sadly well done. Usually always assembled with potato of some sort, perhaps mashed, maybe roasted or possibly even boiled too. It all sounds quite bland now doesn’t it. Over the decades the influences of our growth as a country have evolved our palettes and tastes. Dinners, now both at home and when we go out include dishes from a global variety of cuisines and offerings. Whether you enjoy cooking or not most of us don’t stick to the humble meat and three veg routine anymore.

This seemingly innocuous conversation repeated in homes throughout Australia in the twilight hours did however lead us to an exchange about our dinners. He pointed out that most of our meals are meat and veg just not the kind we recognise from our own childhoods but rather a much more interesting and tasty variety. Sometimes it might look like something with a Mexican twist or perhaps something inspired by a French dish. Other times, like that night it’s a delectable piece of meat with a side dish for the ‘veg’ that’s super delicious and totally steals the show. We enjoyed my fancy version of carrots with char grilled lamb loin fillets, you know the skinny succulent ones. Not something I’d normally buy but they were on special and too good to pass up. Lamb chops or chicken fillets would suit just as well or perhaps even a lovely piece of fish and it’s perfect for vegetarian or vegan* dining companions.

Ingredients:

¾ C (200gm) Greek yoghurt

1 Tb tahini

Pinch of salt

½ tsp cinnamon

1 tsp ground cumin

¼ tsp sweet smoked paprika

½ tsp chilli flakes (you can dial this one up or down to your preference)

Pinch of salt and freshly ground black pepper

3 Tb extra virgin olive oil

4 carrots

1 400 gm can chickpeas

¼ c each mint and parsley leaves

Dressing:

1 Tb honey

1 Tb fresh squeezed lemon juice

1 Tb Extra virgin olive oil

1 tsp rose harissa (regular harissa is fine if this is what you have or most available to you)

Method:

Preheat oven to 180 c. Line an oven tray, large enough to take everything in a single layer, with baking paper.

Drain and rinse chickpeas. Place on a clean tea towel/cloth to dry. Leave this til ready.

In a small bowl combine yoghurt, tahini and pinch of salt until completely amalgamated. Cover and refrigerate.

In another small bowl combine dressing ingredients. Whisk well and set aside until required.

In a large bowl, combine spices, 3 tb oil, salt and pepper and whisk, set aside. Peel and cut carrots into thick slices 1.5-2 cms thick. Place carrots, and chickpeas in the bowl with spiced oil toss well to completely coat the veg and chickpeas. Tip onto prepared tray and bake in the oven for 30 minutes or until carrots tender, tossing halfway through. Remove from oven and allow to cool slightly, around ten minutes.

On a suitably sized plate tip yoghurt mixture in the centre. With the back of a spoon swirl this mixture extending outwards as you go until it forms a ring or moat around the edge. Much like the action a pizza maker uses spreading pizza sauce. Gently spoon cooked carrot and chickpea mixture into the centre of the yoghurt moat. Spoon over dressing, reserving 2 Tb if you serving with something delicious from the BBQ (see notes). Sprinkle over fresh herbs and serve.

Notes:

We love this with something delicious from the BBQ like lamb or chicken. Simply sprinkle with salt flakes and fresh ground black pepper. Once cooked to your liking toss in the reserved dressing much like a revers marinade. The warmth of meat releases the flavours and aroma adding another flavour layer to your meat.

Before juicing your lemon you might like to grate the rind off and pop in a small sealed bag or container and freeze. It will be lovely in baking, icing for a cake, stirred through slow cook dinner, a gremolata, in yoghurt to top a Greek style lamb dish or any other number of delicious uses.

To make this a vegan dish simply use a coconut yoghurt or cashew cream in place of the Greek yoghurt.

Fresh Tomato and Zucchini Salad

Today began with the loud rumbling noise of machines out front of our house. The kind of noise that vibrates through the floor and walls with a not so gentle rumble reaching into your chest and bones. The kind of noise you hear in the suburbs. We’re home.

Home from the long languid days spent by the sea where our biggest decision was whether to go for another walk on the beach, salty sea water lapping at our ankles, or to read another chapter of a book. Pondering our next stop on the journey or to stay another day where we were. Home from ‘the road,’ from the escapist days at large and home to reality.

I’ve learnt a few things about myself and life on the road, even at 52. But one of these lessons it appears is an aversion to reality. I’d planned on writing here more often. I was loose in my plan but was certain I could create at least four newsletters, maybe even more. I was also certain I could read more professional development books and work on plans for the year ahead. I was ambitious, as I often am. Perhaps not the good kind of ambition though. I leaned more into the procrastination, avoided reality and lived a seaside utopian kind of life. Perhaps this isn’t so much a lesson as a reminder. I’m pretty sure I was already painfully aware of my simmering laissez faire undercurrent masked by genuine ambition but equally aware of my conviction I ‘could do it.’

I wrote that over a week ago. Perhaps more fortuitous and insightful than, even then, I acknowledged. Again trying to return to our regular catch ups, here I am. December, however is piling on me. Returning from our ‘come what may’ life to suburban pre-Christmas is startling in its ferocity, I’ve felt like a deer in the head lights. It’s taken some time to acknowledge the inevitable and get in the swing of things, bringing out all the Christmas cookbooks, stocking up on all the spices, dried fruits and the like and pondering a menu that inevitably never changes. That said I still don’t have the Christmas tree adorning my living room, that’s for the weekend. Our boys come home for the festive season next week, I’m super excited to see them. My husband could easily fall into the trap of not bothering with decorations with the lack of little people in our lives. I, on the other hand couldn’t do it, it simply wouldn’t feel Christmassy. So we’ll bring everything out, hang the tinsel garlands, festoon the tree with years of decorations both handmade and gifted, light the tree and crown it all with the inevitable star. Come what may we’re hopping aboard that metaphorical Christmas train.

Aside from the ‘big day’ of Christmas tables heaving with a festive cornucopia of all our traditional favourites, this period is usually a time spent dining outdoors for us. Trying to capture that leisurely holiday spirit found in long sunny days with warm breezes sweeping across our deck always characterises January. Usually a holiday time for us we return some way during the month and I remain caught up in that camping holiday spirit, cooking outdoors with something simple to accompany our meal that didn’t require much preparation, much like a holiday. This year, that summer spirit has returned home with us. Dinners served later than usual, though not always outside with summer’s later than usual arrival. Simple fare with fresh new season flavours dictating the menu. We travelled like this, sourcing what was available locally that looked the most flavourful and interesting, following our noses and palates if you will. Tomatoes plump, shiny and fragrant from a young woman who’s passion in sharing the flavoursome summer globes oozed from her every pore as generously as the fruit’s juice. Zucchinis, from another farmer who lives and breathes his market garden, who threw a few of his prized avocados in my bag as a gesture of thanks for visiting his stall and the lemons fresh and zingy like sunshine in my hand their perfume fluttering up as I cut them and squeeze their juice liberally across a salad. All that summery goodness after a visit to a farmer’s market on the shores of the sea where the clarence river meets the Pacific Ocean.

This is summer, this is what Christmas heralds for me. I’m not a religious person, but I love the spirit of the season, regardless of how you observe this time of year no matter where you are in the world, irrespective of who you break bread with and no matter how fraught the lead up can be, it’s a wonderful time of year. For me it’s a time that draws us all together, to pause and reflect on the year and one to smile at memories, perhaps even with a tear or two at those not at the table. And here in the southern hemisphere a time of slower languorous days ended in warm breezes with a plate of freshness dictated by the season.

Like the recipes I shared with you from the road this one is also one created with instinct. You could add your own flair or follow along as I suggest below. It’s full of all the cheery colours of Christmas and is super quick and easy to assemble, perhaps one for you menu or even one to stash away for the coming warm nights and barbecues.

Indredients:

2 eggs

½ cup white sugar

1 tsp vanilla paste/extract

¼ cup extra virgin olive oil

50 gms melted butter cooled

1 Tb honey

1 cup and 1 Tb of plain flour (I’m traveling without scales)

2 tsp baking powder

1 tsp cinnamon (I used Gewurzhaus Apple Pie Spice mix. Use what you have.)

1/3 cup of milk ( I used almond milk, you do you)

2 very ripe bananas mashed

Method:

Preheat oven to 180c, grease and line a loaf pan. Either sift or dry whisk dry ingredients, set aside.

In a large bowl whisk together the eggs, sugar, vanilla and oil until emulsified and frothy. The sugar will be partly dissolved. Add butter and honey and again whisk to combine well.

Gently fold in half the combined dry ingredients followed by the milk then finally the remaining dry ingredients. Finally fold in the mased banana, this step with distribute any remaining clumps of dry flour. Pour into prepared loaf pan and bake. Now here’s the instinct part. I imagined a 45 minute bake and checked at 30 minutes to check progress. My little gas oven had blown out and needed to be reignited. So I’d suggest you check your cake at 40 minutes. If it has a wobble in the middle don’t bother poking it with a skewer rather return to the oven for ten minutes. Check again after that using a skewer, if it comes out clean as we always say, it’s done. If not try 5-10 minutes bursts to finish it depended on how much more it needs.

Serve warm or cooled with lashings of butter and a view.

Feel free to comment below if you have questions.

Confit Fennel with Chardonnay and Honey Mustard

I’m sitting in our caravan, a relatively small one by today’s standards. We’re in a western NSW town for our fourth day, a day longer than planned. My keyboard is dappled with pretty dancing light and shadows tip toeing across my hands back and forth as I type. They float through the window in the shape of old-fashioned bottle brushes and finger shaped leaves created by sun peeping through waving branches of blooming Callistemon trees that surround our little patch of earth on which we’re parked. Waving branches perhaps a polite description 30 knot gusts. Not only do the shadows move back and forth, but our small home on wheels jolts side to side too. We’re being buffeted by gusts of winds strong enough to remind us our salubrious little abode is indeed on wheels and not permanent. The weather front passing our locale has halted our travels, grounding us, keeping us in place another day as it passes. The thought of hauling a large square ‘box’ not really designed for cross winds behind a car of equally square arrangement, enough to force us to make do and stay put for just one more day.

The phrase ‘making do’ is often preceded with the word just… “just make do,” suggesting making do is a compromise. That to live with what’s at hand, what’s around you, what’s available is somehow not as great an existence as what could be, or what’s missing. However a holiday touring and traveling is one requiring the utmost compromise and making do, but in the best possible way.

Compacting your normally busy and plentiful life into a 5 metre long caravan and car with barely a plan but a vague direction into which you head, following the sun, a midway point as a guide and the coast your road home, requires some thought and a lot of concession. It requires thought and planning. Enough clothes but not too many, ingredients to make meals but the right ones for maximum flavour taking up minimum space while still maintaining enough nutrition and interest (maybe that’s just me), spare parts and tools for any mishaps or glitches, medicines to last, toiletries, water etc ad nauseum. It can be enough to make your brain spin and consider a well-planned all-inclusive tour on which someone else does all the planning and you just turn up and enjoy. But that wouldn’t really be the point or the same holiday. We’re fairly well versed at this exercise, we’ve traversed the highways of Australia zig zagging across the wide-open planes many times. We’ve travelled with tiny babies, toddlers and kids in the most basic of camping set ups through various iterations to what now feels like a floating hotel room. Our family has gazed at billions of stars while our toes burrowed in the red dirt of the outback, breathed in eucalyptus fragranced mist at dawn on mountain tops in the high country (ok I may have done that from the comfort of a sleeping bag with one eye half open #notamorningperson) and walked isolated beaches as sapphire blue waters lapped our feet. What we’ve not done before is travel with nary a plan. Our journeys are normally planned to the day with itineraries dictating the day’s location, travel or plans, their length instructed by school holidays or annual leave from work. This time is different and while planning what’s required to stow for enjoyment, comfort and safety remains a necessity a plan as loose as that with which we’ve set off requires a willingness to travel with fluidity and adaptability.

Our first week saw an overnight stop in a tiny town with the only availability for our new car’s first check-up service for hundreds of miles and consequently a birthday dinner for my husband at the local returned serviceman’s club.

A misstep by a very confused google maps taking us down a narrow road leading to a laneway style carriageway between paddocks of grain crops not really suited to a touring rig and the discovery that whatever grain was growing and I are not friends. Hello hives on legs after squatting amongst roadside stray crops to take photos. Maybe I should suggest an upgrade to google maps in which you can set a preference for roads worthy of a four-wheel drive trailing a caravan.

Also this week, the beautiful kindred spirit of small town communities found in a riverside precinct, a beautiful multicultural celebration and a spring festival marking the harvest of Griffith’s food crops and a promenade of sculptures created with a surplus of oranges from the region, one of only two places in the world in which this happens.

All inspiring and all examples of towns making the most of their communities and what their regions offer. Making do perhaps or making something special. Maybe that’s what ‘making do’ is. Maybe making do creates the space for a serendipity of its own leading to an unexpected ‘special.’ Maybe traveling with a mostly open-ended vague plan, without the limitation of a strict timetable and with a shrunken down life that fits into what amounts to a trailing box is the path to learning the joy in making do and appreciating the results.

With the ‘limitations’ this adventure presents my pantry is a modicum of what I’m used to reaching for. My dinner time yearnings however are not. With limited ingredients and a hankering for something delicious to accompany the lamb backstrap that Hubby was planning on barbecuing I started plotting. I’m now lucky enough to travel with an, albeit small, but normal fridge freezer arrangement. As you’d imagine its filled with a strategically selected collection of meat and vegetables, a perfect canvas for the equally tactical collection of flavourings and accoutrements in the cupboard. With the outback sun settling into the horizon the air had cooled and my desire for something warm and hearty to sit next to our lamb had also settled on me. With the bulb of fennel in the crisper, my favourite mustard found at a small local supermarket and the remains of a delicious chardonnay sourced in Wagga on our first night and some patience at the stove I made do, and the result created confit fennel with chardonnay and mustard.

I offer you this recipe with a warning of sorts. In the true spirit of making do I am travelling without scales, measuring spoons and, at best, a vague notion of time. Whist I’ve made my best effort to make this as precise as I normally would offer it does come with a small disclaimer that, like I have, you should trust your cooking gut and use your senses while following my instructions. Make do my friends.

Instructions:

1 bulb of fennel trimmed of tops, cored and thickly sliced into 1 cm slices

1 french shallot peeled and sliced

2 tbs salted capers washed and drained

1 garlic clove peeled and finely sliced

¼ c extra virgin olive oil

2 tsp butter

Good glug of white wine, I used chardonnay and would say a good glug is something akin to 2 tb

1 heaped tsp of Dijon honey mustard. If you don’t have this used 1 of regular Dijon and half of tsp of runny honey

¼ tsp dried oregano flakes 

Method:

Preheat olive oil in a medium to large fry pan (mine is 28cm at the base) over medium-low heat until oil is just starting to be runny and looser when you lift and roll the pan, 3-4 minutes. Reduce heat to low and add fennel and shallot. Stir to coat thoroughly in the oil and allow to simmer stirring often for 5-7 minutes until the edges are translucent one third of the way to centre of the slices As pictured below, the middle of the slices will still be white. Ensure when stirring the shallot is not browning.

At this stage add the garlic and capers and stir well again cooking another five minutes stirring often to make sure the garlic softens and melts not browns.

Once fennel is soft and completely translucent stir in the butter and increase heat to medium high, watch closely so the vegetable doesn’t catch and butter burn, it’s fine if it caramelises at the edges. After 1-2 minutes when it’s increased in heat splash in the wine, it should immediately bubble up and start to reduce. After the wine has reduced by perhaps half’ish after a couple minutes stir in the mustard and sprinkle over the oregano. Allow to simmer a minute more then serve immediately.

We enjoyed it next to barbecue lamb backstap topped with beetroot relish stirred through Greek yoghurt, bbq’ed corn and green salad. It would also be delicious with roast pork and greens or chicken. This served the two of us, both fennel lovers.

Warm Chorizo and Potato Salad

So it’s the first of December, perhaps the official start of the silly season, or is it? More and more each year the season dawns ever earlier. Major sale days now have become major sale weeks with us all hunting bargains and ticking off shopping lists smugly celebrating the completion of parts of or whole shopping lists. Company Christmas parties now dot squares in the November page of calendars and diaries. Christmas trees and decorations adorn our homes in November festooning every corner with festive cheer. And of course our social plans fill with all the annual Christmas catch ups with family and friends.

It's a funny thing really, we’re all so busy feeling like our personal bandwidth has reached capacity yet we feel compelled to load up even more. Don’t get me wrong, the social side of the festive season is actually one of my favourite parts of farewelling the year. Life, in the thick of the year is busy, we’re distracted by all the weekly commitments and demands on our time so making the effort to commit to time with special people feels all the more precious. December seems to bring with it a slow sense of curtains slowly drawing to a close. It’s an atmosphere well suited to a time of year marked by gatherings with loved ones. Likewise, a time of year here, where the weather mellows and warms and we’re drawn outside, dining under gently waving trees, warmed by sunshine and serenaded by birdsong and chirruping crickets. In amongst all these events though life still tumbles along taking us with it. Indeed alongside this period of reunions can be a sense of frenetic lists to tick off. Work tasks to close out for the year, maybe holidays to pack and plan for and all the other commitments we feel compelled to fulfill. Would I change it? Not on your life! I love the atmosphere of all these fun lunches and dinner dates. We’re all a little reflective, reminiscing on all the milestones and events and hopefully excitedly looking towards what the year to come brings. Corks pop, barbecues sizzle, laughter fills the air and shoulders, set firm with tension start slowly descending.

In the midst of that festive paradox the last thing I need is to struggle with what to cook or bring to a dinner when asked to contribute while still trying to fill hungry tummies. Where I can keep it simple I will, relying on a few loved flavours and filling, hearty ingredients. Spuds, or potatoes more politely, are where it’s at aren’t they. No matter how they’re prepared, nearly everyone loves them, they’re cheap and filling and will be the thing that will get passed between diners the most. What better way to keep the conversation flowing and cater for everyone.

Ingredients:

1 kg potatoes unpeeled in large cubes/chunks**.

¼ c extra virgin olive oil

½ tsp smoked sweet/mild paprika

2 tsp dried oregano

Salt flakes

3-4 whole unpeeled garlic cloves, lightly bruised with a lite bash.

2 cured chorizo sausages chopped into large chunks

¼ c garlic aioli or sour cream (choose your own adventure) or more depending on you’re preference

2 spring onions sliced to serve

Method:

Preheat oven to 180c.

Line a large roasting tray or dish big enough to hold potatoes in a single layer. In a large bowl whisk together oil, paprika and oregano. Add the prepared potatoes and stir to coat well. Tumble the mixture in the lined baking tray and sprinkle with the salt flakes. Pop into the oven and bake 30 minutes. Remove and stir and sprinkle over the chopped chorizo and return to the oven for 10 minutes or until potatoes are golden brown and sausage caramelising on the edges.

Now here’s the choose your own adventure part. Dollop over the top either the garlic aioli or sour cream and sprinkle the sliced spring onions. We prefer the aioli, it’s just that little bit richer and we love the extra garlic flavour it imparts, however if you’d prefer a lighter flavour try sour cream. As it melts down over the warm potatoes it will melt into the flavoured oil now infused with the chorizo flavours and form a delicious sauce to scoop up and drizzle over whatever protein you’ve served alongside.

**Floury potatoes are usually preferred for baking but don’t get hung up on that, if you only have white or waxy potatoes just go with it, they’ll be fine.

Confit Capsicum

I’m fascinated by all the different, yet often, interchangeable terms in cooking. I’m also compelled, when writing, to honour Mrs Alexander’s pedantry words to always use synonyms in our writing to add colour and movement to the language. She was my Year 11 and 12 English teacher and perhaps the one teacher who’s words and lessons I remember most. She had a way of loving, nurturing and inspiring her students all at once and they returned that love and ardour tenfold, many of her greatest yet at the time seemingly small lessons still impact me today.

So it is with naming this dish. It reminds me of the zucchini dish of a few weeks ago, cooked low and slow, with few ingredients gently coaxing the natural flavours out like a rose emerging in spring releasing it’s sweet heady fragrance in morning sunshine. Not quite a braise, favouring low temperatures without caramelising nor a stew , the brightly coloured globes bathed in glistening flavoursome olive oil rather than a salty stock. It’s most definitely a confit, though not with the rich gamey flavour of duck that first comes to mind when you think of confit. It seems this method of gently enveloping the ingredients in warmed oil and letting the dish murmur on the stove for a while, rather than sizzle, extends beyond that which it’s more recently become famous for.

As it’s listed below, confit of capsicum will be a nice side for 4-6 alongside some other sides or 2-3 as a main with some protein padding. I like to serve it atop a grilled chicken breast with rice pilaf though I ate some of this with some canned chickpeas for a quick lunch. Topped with a poached egg next to some grilled sourdough for breakfast or an easy end of the week dinner on the couch goes well too.

Ingredients:

¼ C Extra virgin olive oil

3 Eschalots peeled and sliced

3 Garlic cloves peeled and squashed lightly

1 heaped tsp washed salted capers

1 Tbs tomato paste

3 Capsicums various colours, deseeded and chopped in large dice, roughly 2cm square’ish

1 long red chilli pierced with a fork a few times

1 small zucchini finely diced

1 tsp raw or white sugar

1 Tb White balsamic or white wine vinegar

*Basil shreds or whole fresh oregano leaves to serve

Method:

On a low heat in a medium sized shallow pan gently warm the olive oil. Add the eschalots and stir constantly for a minute or two while they settle in to prevent browning. They’ll quieten down to a gently hum and can sit gently like that needing a stir only every few minutes. Cook like this for five minutes then add garlic and capers to the pan, Stir to coat in the oil and allow to lightly cook for another five minutes. Pop the tomato paste in the pan and stir to combine, it won’t amalgamate completely but don’t worry it will sort itself out later. After a couple minutes stirring, tumble in the remaining ingredients mixing everything thoroughly. Cover with a lid, preferably glass so you can keep your eye on it, and gently simmer on a very low heat (I like to use a jet smaller than pan) for 40 minutes stirring occasionally. Season with salt flakes to taste and sprinkle with shredded basil or whole oregano leaves to serve.

Zucchini Confit with Charred Lemon and Chilli.

Last year was our first year without a child in school and therefore tied to school holiday periods for holidays. With dear friends and treasured traveling companions our little late summer holiday tradition began. Touring rural roads stopping at farm gates for supplies our camp cook ups are often driven by seasonal produce. Last year while camped on a north Tasmanian beach with a haul of local goodies I pulled together an idea that became the seed of today’s recipe. You can read about it here. As with many at this time of year gardens are overflowing with a glut of late season summer veg. At a recent farmers market my favourite market gardener threw handfuls of zucchini into my basket all but begging me to take them off his hands. I was tempted to try Stanley Tucci’s much lauded zucchini pasta recipe but instead was drawn to rework my olive oil braised zucchini recipe and gosh am I a happy zucc lover.

Ingredients:

¼ c extra virgin olive oil

3 (500gm) zucchinis halved lengthwise and sliced on the diagonal about 1cm thick.

1 garlic clove peeled and thinly sliced

2 french shallots peeled and thinly sliced

Red chilli thinly sliced to taste. I like to deseed to control the heat and have used one whole long chilli here but you do you.

1 tb butter

Half a whole lemon

Method:

In a heavy based fry pan large enough to hold all the zucchini gently warm the olive oil over a low heat. Add the shallots and cook gently stirring frequently until translucent and soft, around 5 minutes. Avoid allowing the shallot to colour as we’ll caramelise it later and don’t want to do that now or it will burn later. Add garlic and chilli and cook for three minutes to soften again avoiding colour.

Add zucchini and stir frequently cooking for 5 minutes stirring often to keep the shallots and garlic moving. Once the edges of the zucchini start to colour and caramelise add the halved lemon flesh side down to the centre of the pan and increase heat to medium. We’re trying to caramelise the lemon flesh to release the tang and gently flavour the dish without a harsh sharp citrus flavour. Keep the zucchini moving around the lemon for 3-5 mins. Once the lemon flesh has began to brown add the butter and still constantly to incorporate everything keeping that lemon flesh side down (now I’m sounding like a nag but stay with me). At this point the zucchini will have softened and taken on a darker almost translucent colour, the shallots will have caramelised almost crisping up slightly. Cook for a further few minutes to gently begin to brown the butter and finish the dish nicely.

Notes and suggestions:

* Sprinkle lightly toasted pine nuts over the finished dish for some crunch.

* I served this alongside my White Bean Dip. It will sit happily on a bed of humus, yoghurt or labne. Goats cheese is also delicious dotted on top.

* You could stir through pasta for a lovely vegetarian dinner.

* While this is a very versatile dish it’s a particularly lovely accompaniment to Lamb Shoulder.

White Bean Dip

Combine the following in a blender and blend to your preferred consistency. Mine is a little textured here but sometimes I go a little further and make it much smoother. You may need to stop blending a couple times and scrape down.

1 lightly drained can of white beans, (any kind of white beans will be fine)

1 Tbs olive oil

1 tsp sesame seeds

1 Tb lemon juice

Finely grated rind of a lemon

2-3 Tbs water (this will help loosen it and help it move through the blender more efficiently)

1 garlic clove peeled

1 tsp cumin

¼ tsp salt flakes

½ tsp tahini

* Sprinkle lightly toasted pine nuts over the finished dish for some crunch.

* I served this alongside my White Bean Dip. It will sit happily on a bed of humus, yoghurt or labne. Goats cheese is also delicious dotted on top.

* You could stir through pasta for a lovely vegetarian dinner.

* While this is a very versatile dish it’s a particularly lovely accompaniment to Lamb Shoulder.