Autumn Menu with a Hint of Halloween

Delved into my bookmarks and consulted good old oracle Pinterest in order to compile an Autumn menu with recipes slightly out of the ordinary, without obsessing about it - and a hint of the unexpected. It had to be a poetic menu to spell out loud, with each dish almost akin to a verse by Edgar Allan Poe...

Think velvety monochrome textures, smoked flavours, dark syrupy fruit, gooey sauces, messy blends, unusual colours and rare alcohols, to keep you warm inside and chill you out at the same time! Red splatters to keep you on your toes... All in all, a grown-up Autumn menu without the hearty pumpkin chowders, versatile enough to celebrate not only Halloween but also All Saints' Day (Catholic calendar, 1st November) and Guy Fawkes Night (Great Britain, 5th November) without stating the obvious!

So let's get those taste buds into overdrive and that kitchen ready to sizzle!

A P É R I T I F 

The Black Heart by Julep

Cranberry & Pomegranate Spritz by Donna Hay

Pitaya (Dragon Fruit) Margarita by Muy Bueno

Cocktail Snow Cones by HonestlyYUM

Palomitas de Curcúma by La Baguette Magique

E N T R É E

Beet-Pickled Curry Deviled Eggs by Viktoria's Table

Fig and Goat's Cheese Tart by Donna Hay

Spicy Corn Bisque by Bakers Royale

Roasted Red Pepper Tortilla Soup by Cookie & Kate

M A I N     C O U R S E

Vegan Winter Harvest Hummus Bowl by Heather Christo

S I D E S

Roasted Carrots Cooked in a Pomegranate Syrup by Un Déjeuner de Soleil

E N T R E M E T S

Blood Orange Granita by Cook Republic

Pomegranate and Greek Yoghurt Panna Cotta, via Cooked

D E S S E R T

Beer-Laced Sticky Toffee and Ginger Pudding by Delicious

S W E E T     A F T E R S

Raspberry Brownie Ice Cream Sandwiches by The Bojon Gourmet

Juniper + Smoke Marshmallows by Local Milk

Further Resources:

• For a little otherwordliness that remains firmly on the safe side, visit my K ° Mystique Pinterest board.
• Ideas to ease you into the Halloween spirit with a little chill and none of the tack.
• Robert Doisneau photography: black and white, atmospheric and - if you are looking for it - spooky.
• Cocktails that are odd beyond the odds, The Gibson's Cocktail Menu has it by the muddler! Their cocktail list flirts with the quirk and the bizarre in equal doses, if not the borderline bootleg (Scandal in Bohemia, a mixology 'high' of Sweet Grass Steeped Woodford Rye Absinthe + Hemp Cannabis Poppy 'Opium' Oil + Preserved Oriental Lemon Brine + French Confetti Candy Syrup + Forbidden Jelly Ice + Smoking Wood Mushroom)! You couldn't make this one up if you wanted to! For a cocktail slightly less far fetched in terms of ingredients, the Way of the Dragon might persuade an enlightened Classic D&D gamer to give it a try, if only for the rambunctious dragon that is served with the drink: 8 years old Bacardi + Gibson's Seabuckthorn Liqueur + Madeira Wine + Lime + Fresh Rambutan & Mangosteen + Butternut Squash & Walnut Conserve + Galia Melon. Good grief! I'll have a simple G&T anytime!

Way of the Dragon cocktail by The Gibson Bar, Shoreditch, London

Important Dates!

Spring and Summer yield seasonal produce that truly is hard to resist even if you are moderately interested in fruit and veg. Strawberries will always find a way to your heart, while those greens and tomatoes conjured up together in a salad are so refreshing, they are almost a tabletop necessity when the heat is on and a garden party beckons!

Three's not a crowd!

However Autumn (or Fall as it is commonly known in North America) and Winter may not be met with the same excitement. Yet in those heavy-duty root vegetables, rustic pumpkins, plump cabbages, rosy-cheeked orchard apples, and nuts of every variety and calibre, our bodies find the comfort food, the sustenance and the stodge they need to keep us warm and functional, and not fall into hibernation! And if you are my mum, add persimmons and dates to the list.

I must admit that I never was a fan of the latter two but I never gave up on them, to the extent that they are now a part of my Autumnal fruit bowl too, for added enchantment. This year I have reached a new milestone with those fresh dates, as three different types of them are cohabiting in the fruit bowl right now: Barhi, Medjool and Jujube! Save the date(s), I did it! Those Barhi and Medjools I got yesterday are from Israel. The Jujubes might be from Corsica, I'm not sure.

Sticky, gooey, yummy!

I have to pinch myself sometimes at the sight of these semi-exotic delicacies, yet by the same token remind myself that I live closer to Tunisia - a major date producer and exporter of middle-eastern produce - than to Paris! It is thus only natural that our market stalls and fresh produce aisles shall reflect the geographical proximity, which is a joy!

If you are not too keen on dates, chance is you haven't tried fresh dates. Those are the daddy! They are plump, juicy, sun-kissed, gooey, tasty, nutritious, generous and ready to lend themselves to those killer baklava and other sweet and sticky moist cakes with a middle eastern inclination! Give the shoulder to the thin dates tightly corseted into puny little plastic trays. They are the equivalent of factory-farmed food: unloved, they gave up the ghost way before their time and thus are dry and bland.

Eat as is!

All dates do not come from palm trees. I mentioned the jujubes in a post a while back, in reference to mémé (my grandma), who ate all sorts of unusual fruit while growing up in Corsica: medlars, mulberries, carobs, and the oddly-named  jujubes! The jujubier trees were introduced in Corsica in the 19th century from China, and their fruit (jujube) is also known as Chinese date. This forgotten date is making a come-back locally (in Corsica), no less so than in a mainstream fashion (i.e. down the supermarket aisle, and by the crate-load).

In matters of taste, it's a bizarro bite because not all dates taste of dates! Fresh jujube faintly tastes of apple, with a consistency to match, hence its French nickname of pomme surette (tart apple): an unusual taste for an unusual name! Fresh barhi - my favourite - tastes best when just ripe, in its off-white/ pale yellow robe and slightly giving to the touch as its skin starts to crackle. It tastes divinely of melt-in-the-mouth oven-baked/ caramelised apple, and will lend itself beautifully to the most amazing tarts and pies! The overripe barhi (brown and squidgy) however tastes like fermented apple, almost cider... Medjool doesn't taste of apple: it tastes of a fleshy date - with gusto!

Whichever date it is, enjoy it unadulterated. There are however other ways of 'dating' the date... by dressing it, blitzing it, and/ or baking it! I am well tempted by those three scrumptious recipes:-

Date, Banana & Coconut Smoothie by Tuulia

Mango Tahini Date Cereal Bars by Love Me, Feed Me

Pear, Date and Coconut Cake by Hummingbird High

Foraging for Wild Asparagus

Wild asparagus season is in full swing in Corsica right now, and a demonstration of how giving and generous nature is to man, in all of our taking for granted of it. I had spotted a few asparagus stems around the village, tentatively tempting me to indulge in a little culinary adventure.

Fresh asparagus always gets me excited for two reasons. It heralds Spring (two weeks from now!), and is an indulgent delicacy (verging on luxury) that gracefully eases us out of the stodgy Winter veg dishes. Unlike its cultivated counterpart, wild asparagus is thin and lean! Long stems (whose tips are for picking) that delicately sway to the breeze in a semi-shaded, well-drained environment. I find them scattered at the feet of old olive trees.

Yesterday morning, with little Tickle in tow, and 'armed' with a paring knife, small gratin dish and camera, I went pottering about my immediate surroundings, on the hunt for wild asparagus. Oh, I did get distracted on the way there and back by those other tangible signs of Spring, purple daisy-like ground flowers that go by the name of Anemone stellata.

Then I spotted what looked like Morels. However not being a mycologist and not being able to ascertain whether those morels were safe and edible - or toxic - I resisted the temptation of picking them! Folks, the 'Better safe than sorry' idiom befits wild mushroom foraging to a cap, especially if you are no specialist!

Creamy Pasta Served with Wild Asparagus

Back home, I threw together a quick and easy lunch out of leftover plain pasta, simply plunged in boiling water and a dash of olive oil for a couple of minutes, then tossed in double cream, to which were added a small tin of sliced button mushrooms (my safe option to those unacquainted wild varieties out there!), the juice of half a lemon from Nice (+ a sprinkle of grated peel), salt, pepper and chopped chives. In a separate pan, I blanched the asparagus tips for five minutes, drained them and scattered them over the plated pasta. It was an ordinary meal with a little extra thrown into it, thanks to the fragrant, natural and organic asparagus that had been picked from the wild!

(pict source)

Flat-Leaf Parsley Soup

Serves 4 (as a main dish)
Preparation: 10 mins
Cooking: 40-45 mins

What do you do when your next-door neighbour brings you a generous bunch of flat-leaf parsley from his vegetable garden? You make Flat-Leaf Parsley Soup!

Hiding from behind the wild fennel bush!

Believe you me, I was well excited at the prospect of making my very first soup from scratch, and parsley was to provide me that opportunity, under my mum's incredulous eye, as she knows how fussy I am usually about soup. But eh, this one I would love! It's a little like with kids: other people's kids do your nut, but when it's your own, you just melt!

• Big bunch (200g/ 7oz) flat-leaf parsley 
• 4 tablespoons olive oil
• 3 garlic cloves
• 2 small red onions
• 2 medium potatoes
• 1l (1.7 pints) cold water
• Pinch of nutmeg
• Salt and pepper (to taste)

Prepare the parsley: cut off the stalks from the base of the leaves and discard the stalks. Place the leaves in a strainer and run water over to rinse them off. Then chop them finely in the food processor (or by hand if preferred). Peel the garlic, slice it roughly and add to the processor. Do the same with the onions. Peel the potatoes, finely chop them by hand and keep aside.

Heat the oil in a big saucepan on medium heat. Then add the parsley mix, add a pinch of nutmeg, and stir constantly with a wooden spoon for a couple of minutes, to just lightly soften the parsley and develop the flavours. Then pour the water over in one go, and add the potato slices. Bring to the boil gently, stirring occasionally, then cover with a lid and turn down to medium heat. The overall cooking process should take about 40-45 mins. Season just before serving.

You may want to 'pimp up' your soup with garlic croûtons, a pinch of paprika, a tablespoon of double cream or a serving of parmesan, and other soup essentials of your liking. Or you may just savour it as is, with a couple of crunchy slices of bread by the side.

This is a light-hearted, healthy, tasty and incredibly easy-to-make soup that reminds me in taste of watercress soup. It is perfect as a main course for warming up a little Summer evening breeze on the patio, or served in small mugs as an entrée. Enjoy!

Palomitas de Cúrcuma

Serves 2
Preparation: a few seconds!
Cooking: approx. 7 mins 

Weary of the savoury junk snacks from the shops, I had been contemplating for a while the idea of making savoury popcorn as an appetiser for Summer alfresco apéritifs. Yet I didn't want it plain and was looking to devise a tropical version of popcorn: jazzed up and with a kick to it. I improvised a healthy veg(etari)an recipe out of the blue, using only four simple ingredients: organic popping corn, olive oil, sea salt and turmeric powder. It came out wonderful! The hints of olive and turmeric give it a light sunny taste and hue, with the salt bringing out the flavours.

I had to give this recipe a Spanish name because Palomitas de Cúrcuma sounds so much more mellifluous, moreish and tropical than plain Turmeric Popcorn, don't you think? It just rolls off the tongue in a twist and is a lovely echo to our recent Santa Fe excursion! The Spanish language beautifully captures the sunny undertones of this recipe. And "palomitas" is one of my favourite Spanish words - together with "pastel" (cake) and "estrella" (star).

Please note that I do not have a special popcorn pan. I make my popcorn using a standard medium-sized saucepan and lid. I find it easier therefore to make small batches of popcorn at a time, rather than one big portion in one go. That's why this recipe is for two servings.

• Half a cup organic popping corn
• Enough olive oil to generously coat the entire surface of the pan and the maize kernels (i.e. approx 4-5 tablespoons oil)
• Sea salt
• 1 teaspoon turmeric powder

Pour the olive oil into the pan, then add the turmeric and a good pinch of salt. Tilt the pan and swoosh around to ensure its bottom surface is evenly and generously coated. Add more olive oil if necessary. Then add the popping corn, place a lid securely onto the pan and swoosh some more. Heat up on medium heat, keeping an eye on the stove. Shake the pan regularly to prevent the kernels from sticking, and keep the lid firmly onto the pan while doing so.

After a few minutes, you will start hearing the kernels pop. Carry on shaking the pan, keeping the lid on. Then when the popping noises have started subsiding, carefully lift the lid and check. Take the pan off the heat, pour its contents into a serving bowl. Add another good pinch of salt and roughly stir with a wooden spoon (or just run your fingers through). Et voilà! The palomitas are a perfect accompaniment to soft drinks, long drinks and shorts. Let's get the party started, amigos!

Gâteau Paris-Brest

Serves: 8
Preparation: 40 mins (choux pastry) + 40 mins (filling and dressing)
Cooking: 20 mins + extra 5 mins + leave in the open oven for an extra 5 mins

If a French pastry ever were to be described as la crème de la crème (in every sense of the phrase), then Paris-Brest would be it. The gâteau is classic in style and celebratory in mood, and a piece of French culinary heritage all to itself that goes beyond anything cream cake. If I wax lyrical so readily about this particular pâtisserie, it is simply because it stands as my all-time favourite!

The Paris-Brest dates back to 1910, which despite making it a centenarian, also brings out its timeless appeal! Its circular shape is in reference to the Paris-Brest cycle race. A pâtissier from the Parisian suburbs, Louis Durand, had been tasked by the race manager to create a cake that would commemorate the event.

So here we have a gâteau whose popularity has surpassed that of the actual race. It is made out of light and airy choux pastry (cream puff dough), and sprinkled with a generous helping of aromatic roasted almond slivers, finished off with a fine dusting of icing-sugar. The filling is nothing less than a dreamy fluffy praline mousseline cream whose nuttiness echoes that of the almonds, and peers out of its fine corset of piped pastry to doom us into sweet temptation some more.

The Paris-Brest might appear daunting to bake, only if you follow some of the eccentric variants out there, that make it sound more complicated than it actually is! The best thing to do is to follow my step-by-step foolproof method, and you'll be coming back for more!

[Recipe adapted from Maxi Cuisine magazine from a few years back.]

Choux pastry:

• 10cl (1/2 cup) milk (whole or half-skimmed)
• 10cl (1/2 cup) water
• 80g butter (1/3 cup), cut in small chunks
• 140g (1 cup) all-purpose white flour, sieved
• 4 middle-size organic eggs
• pinch of salt
• 1 tsp white caster sugar

Filling (praline mousseline cream):

• 1l (2 pints) milk (whole or half-skimmed, but not fat-free)
• half a vanilla pod
• 6 egg yolks
• 80g (1/3 cup) white caster sugar
• 25g (1 heaped tablespoon) all-purpose white flour, sieved
• 25g (1 heaped tablespoon) cornflour 
• 180g (1 cup 1/2) chopped French pralines (a confection of almonds with caramelized sugar)
• 100g (1/3 cup + 1 oz) softened butter (left out of the fridge)

Topping:

• 50g (1/2 cup) almond slivers
• 50g (1/3 cup) icing sugar

P.S: For baking ingredient conversions, refer to this.

P.P.S: PRALINES-- French Pralines are caramelized almonds. They are sold either whole as a confection, or chopped into a rough granulated texture (see above picture), called 'Pralin' in French. However depending upon which country you live in, French Pralines may not be readily available to purchase. Therefore you may have to resort to making your own, and this easy-to-follow online recipe will do the trick. If you are based in the US, you may want to opt for Glazed Pecans or Praline Pecans from Southern Candy Makers as your closest shop-bought alternative to French Pralin - and for that little Southern touch... All you will need to do is chop the whole glazed pecans/ praline pecans through a food processor until they turn to a granulated texture.

All in all, please be warned about the confusion between Pralines (as in Southern Pecan Pralines) and French Pralines, despite their common French origins. The Pecan Pralines (described by Southern Candy Makers as "similar to candied pecans, only creamier, [they] resemble a cookie, but are actually a crumbly candy patty [made] from fresh cream, butter, sugar, and Louisana pecans") are not suitable for Paris-Brest. Do aim for Glazed Pecans or Praline Pecans instead.

Now back to our Paris-Brest. Preheat the oven (200°C/ 392°F). Prepare the choux pastry: In a medium saucepan and on medium heat, combine (without whisking) milk, water, butter, salt and sugar. When the mixture starts to simmer, add the flour in one go. Then for about one minute and on lower heat, mix together vigorously with a wooden spatula so as to dry out the dough without it sticking to the pan, and you should get a thick and smooth consistency.

Then transfer the dough from the saucepan to a mixing bowl. Add the whole eggs, one at a time, thoroughly incorporating each single egg into the dough with the spatula as you mix together, before you add on the next. Carry on until the dough gets elastic and smooth and comes off the sides of the bowl.

Optionally trace a loose circle (approx. 20cm diameter) on a sheet of parchment paper with a pencil. Then lay the parchment paper onto a baking tray and lightly grease the paper with cooking oil. Then spoon the dough into a piping bag and trace a circle onto the parchment paper and then another circle inside the first (right next to it with no gaps), so that you get a one-inch wide circle. Then pipe a third circle to rest on top of the junction between the first two circles.

You may use a teaspoon as an alternative to the piping bag (which is what I did here) and painstakingly spoon one teaspoon of dough at a time onto the paper until forming a full circle of dough (one inch wide). The finished article, once baked, might not be as full and rounded as the classic (piped) Paris-Brest, but this will not impair the taste whatsoever. And eh, who said Paris-Brest couldn't look rustic round the edges? Actually, [purists, look away now!] should you find convention a tad tricky to handle, you may want to adjust the shape of your Paris-Brest to rectangular, as this will neatly fit in the baking tray (which is what I did here too!).

Sprinkle a generous handful of almond slivers all over the choux pastry. Bake in the oven (200°C/ 392°F) for 20 mins. Never be tempted to open the oven during the baking process or the pastry will deflate and never raise again! When the 20 mins are up, turn the oven temperature down to 180°C/ 356°F and bake the cake for a further 5 mins. Then turn off the oven completely and open its door and leave the cake to cool off for 5 mins before taking it out of the oven. This will prevent it from deflating too much. The pastry should be golden in colour when it comes out of the oven.

Only when the cream puff pastry has thoroughly cooled off, should you split it in two equal horizontal halves, carefully and using a bread knife. Personally I find that a serrated grapefuit knife will do the trick nicely, thanks to the fact that the centre of cream puff is hollow.

Prepare the praline mousseline cream filling: A mousseline cream is basically pastry cream (crème pâtissière) to which butter has been added. Note that the cornflour will lighten the cream consistency. However if you have no cornflour handy, then adjust the all-purpose white flour quantity accordingly, i.e. to 50g (1/3 cup OR 2 heaped tablespoons).

Pour the milk into a saucepan. Split half a vanilla pod lengthways and scrape the seeds into the milk and add the pod shell to it. Bring the milk to the brink of simmer, whisking frequently so as to prevent it from sticking to the bottom of the pan. Meanwhile combine the egg yolks and sugar into a big mixing bowl and cream until white and fluffy. Then add the combined white flour and cornflour in one go. Whisk together. Strain the vanilla pod out of the warm milk.

Add the warm milk to the yolk and sugar preparation in the mixing bowl. Note that the milk must not be boiling hot or it will cook the egg yolks, which is NOT what we want! Whisk together and then pour the cream back into the pan, on medium heat, until it has thickened up and a couple of bubbles have risen to the surface, indicating that the flour has cooked. Turn off the stove. Add the chopped pralines and mix with a wooden spatula, together with the softened butter, cut in chunks.

P.S: For the purists! Some pastry chefs would recommend that you go the extra mile with the praline cream. Once it has cooked - and before any of the softened butter has been added to it - pour the cream into a mixing bowl that sits in a bigger bowl that is filled with ice cubes. Leave the bowls in the fridge for one hour. When the time is up, take the cream out of the fridge and beat it to unset it. Then deal with the softened butter by creaming it with an electric whisk. Add the creamed butter to the praline cream, a little at a time, so as to get a smooth consistency.

Pipe the praline mousseline cream onto the lower half of the choux pastry circle, or alternatively dollop it with a spoon, and then either smooth the edges with a small pallet knife or shape them with a fork (which is what I did). Carefully position the upper half of the circle (i.e. the cake lid) onto its creamed-up lower half. Refrigerate the Paris-Brest until ready to serve. Liberally sprinkle icing sugar before taking to the dinner table, and just let your guests do all the swooning for you!

Psssst! Do not throw out those left-over egg whites! Whip them into Macaroons, a sweet teatime companion.

The Artichoke Season - Easy Peasy Kitchen Squeezy!

I have a thing or two for artichokes. They have always fascinated me, as early as my childhood days when I first got acquainted to them through my mum. It is a multi-layered fascination, starting off with their somewhat grandiloquent appellation itself that sounds like 'a choking Archibald' - a mouthful of a word that is more than we can chew, since in all honesty there isn't that much to eat out of an artichoke. You'll have to excuse it but it is a delicacy, and the description befits how it should be treated, daintily like asparagus or wild girolles. Thus if famished you are, and stodge you need, and starch you seek, better make a beeline for a pound of spuds than a heap of 'chokes!

Let's get our facts right. Artichokes are no vegetables. They are in fact an edible budding inflorescence (flower buds). In effect, what we eat is no leaves but petals, plus the base. And this is how far consumption goes, because natural wastage is to be expected from the 'choke.

Artichokes belong to the cardoon family, which incorporates their remote cousin the thistle. They originated in the Mediterranean regions and became domesticated in ancient times, and by the Middle Ages were known to grace gardens across Europe, alongside angelica, chard, boragio, herbs, cress, cabbage, parsnip, turnip, juniper, oats, beans et al - and not a single potato in sight back then! And grace is the word because artichokes add great decorative value to a garden, and I have even seen stalks of them used as part of sculptural floral displays in hotel lobbies and exhibition halls, to great effect!

I love the way artichokes perplex those who are not familiar with them. Yet perplexity shouldn't deter you from experimenting in the kitchen with this great ingredient. As a basic rule, you should go for one big artichoke (or two smaller ones) per person. The sauce that accompanies the artichokes and the temptation of bread to mop it - with fresh baguette slices a must - will sate you. As a personal preference, I find the smaller artichokes easier to deal with in terms of cooking time, taste and tenderness, than the globe artichokes. All the ones pictured here are of the purple medium-sized "Violet de Provence" variety (from my parents' Corsican garden and elsewhere in Corsica).

Artichokes Served with a Mild Mustard Sauce

Artichokes are not fiddly. If you still feel daunted, just follow my easy step-by-step recipe for a basic boiled artichoke served with a no-frills mild mustard sauce.

Bring a large kettleful of water to the boil. Meanwhile shorten the artichoke stalks with a kitchen knife, if necessary (to no shorter than an inch from the base). Rinse off the artichokes, place them in a big saucepan where they will be able to 'swim' about (as per above picture), and add a splosh of cider vinegar to kill off any bug or slug that might linger, and to prevent discolouration from the cooking process. Pour boiling water all over the artichokes. Put on the stove and return to the boil. When the water starts bubbling away, turn down to medium heat and cover the pan. Leave to a soft boil for approx. 20 mins (globe artichokes will take a good 5 mins longer). The best way to find out if the artichokes are cooked is to stick a small peeling knife into the length of the stalk. If the stalk is still hard, leave to cook a few more minutes. Drain the pan and serve the artichokes. Keep additional artichokes in the pan with the lid on until ready to be eaten.

Serve with a ramekin of Mild Mustard Sauce, only two ingredients: pure virgin olive oil and mild mustard! Add as much virgin olive oil as mild mustard to ramekins (one per person) and stir with a teaspoon (or small whisk) until both mustard and oil have creamed into an emulsion. If using stronger mustard, move to a 3 to 1 ratio.

How to Eat: Discard the outer leaves at the base of the stem which naturally tend to remain hard. Then detach one leaf at a time, plunge its fleshy root tip (pulp) into the sauce and insert halfway between the front upper and lower teeth. Then gently close the teeth onto the leaf and pull it off gently, scraping the artichoke matter off the leaf. Discard the rest of the leaf. As you work your way through the artichoke, things will get easier, as the leaves get thinner and melt in the mouth. This is where they are at their tastiest! You can end up actually eating most of the leaves as you get closer to the heart.

When you are left with the peduncle (stem and flower base), scrape off any of the downy matter if any (prevalent in globe artichokes mostly). Roughly slice the peduncle and toss in the sauce. Enjoy the tasty finale!

Garden Mint Cordial

At the back of my parents garden lies a stretch of semi-wild land, a former cultivated garden, where wild passiflora, vines, aniseed, melissa and garden mint are growing as nature intended. They came with the soil, the land, and thrive with the seasons, little to no human intervention involved. I do keep an eye on them though and the mint gets my undivided attention, especially at this time of year when the weather is hotting up. Throughout the day, I brew some refreshing mint tea and a few days ago I even threw together this dead easy cordial!

Psssst, if you are partial to a cocktail, consider cutting the cordial with a dash of Bourbon whiskey for a cheat's version of the Mint Julep - yep, my bad!

Serves: 2.5 litres (5lbs) cordial
Preparation: 10 mins
Infusion Time: 3 hours

• Generous bunch, approx 220g (7.76oz) fresh organic garden mint (full stalks, i.e. with the leaves on)
• 1l (2pts) still filtered water (at room temperature)
• 1.5kgs (3lbs) white caster sugar

Pour the water into a large saucepan and add all of the sugar to it without stirring. Bring to a light boil. Add the bunch of garden mint to the pan, a few stalks at a time, pushing them into the water with a wooden spoon. Leave to simmer for a couple of minutes. Turn off the cooker. Put the lid on the pan and leave to infuse for 3 hours with the lid on.

When the time is up, take off the lid, breathe in the sweet minty aroma, plunge a tablespoon in, check the consistency of the cordial (should be slightly thicker than water but not too syrupy, coat the spoon, and have a light amber colouring - resembling elderflower cordial). It is recommended that you taste the cordial, as depending on the variety of mint used, you may want to leave it to infuse an extra hour in order to intensify the flavours. Please note that wild mint will naturally be more potent than the cultivated store-bought varieties.

Filter the cordial through a sieve and preferably into a glass preserve jar that can hold up to 2.5kgs (5lbs) liquid. Discard the mint, after pressing any remaining juices into the cordial. Leave to cool down completely without any lid on. Once cool, tighten the lid on the jar and store in the refrigerator. Make sure to use up the cordial within 4 weeks.

As a rough guideline, go for 1 part cordial to 1 part water when serving as a drink, and adjust to taste if need be. The cordial may be used to sweeten fruit salads, waffles, pancakes and yoghurts, poured onto ice-cream and sorbets, or as a basis to cheat's Mint Juleps or Mojitos. Perfect for ice teas too! It is a pretty versatile and easy-going cordial indeed! Have fun, y'all!

Technicolor on a Plate

Summer is a moment of pure delight, bringing a palette of flavours to our palate and a palette of colours to our plates. I couldn't help the tongue twisters and will go to any length to tempt those of you stuck in the takeaway/ processed meal habit to kick it and replace all that comfort brown food of pizza, pasta, burgers, fries, biscuits, chocolates bars, sundaes and the likes, with an injection of vitamin-laden light-hearted happy Summery colours of yellow, orange, pink, red and green onto your plate! It's not too late to embrace salad days still, so look away from the gummi bears and feast your eyes on these babies:

(via Grow Harvest Cook)

Think of all the fruit and vegetables currently in season... Let's start off with fruit in its many varieties - and you will spot my Mediterranean diet along the way: melon, watermelon, plum, apricot, peach, nectarine, fig, apple and pear (both just starting), raspberry, gooseberry, redcurrant, blackberry, grapes... and tomato and capsicum (which happen to be fruit also, contrary to popular belief that tends to categorise them under veg).

Talking of which, veg are just as plentiful as fruit: courgette (zucchini), aubergine (eggplant), green bean, runner bean (and other beans!), carrot, lettuce, spinach, onion, etc. So why content with monochrome brown when you can jazz up your diet and boost your health with a rainbow of colours and tastes! So make sure mealtime means a party in your plate and you'll even find yourself more energetic as a result, more inspired and in a happier mood! It's a winner!

How many figs can you spot from my favourite tree?

Multi-coloured Root Vegetables, via La Tartine Gourmande

Roasted Radishes, by Saveur