In Peru, from the major artery of the Amazon winding through the Andes and deep into the jungle, indigenous groups settled across these geographic pockets. In coastal cultures, fish and shellfish were a vital diet. Archaeological evidence points to the Moche people (pre-Inca civilization) eating fish straight out of the sea, partly cured with the acid from tumbo juice – something akin to a passionfruit – combined with chilli or seaweed. The the roots of ceviche, the raw fish marinating in acid, are entirely entangled with Peru’s coastal cultures and what was naturally abundant.

Today, when we think of ceviche, we might think of fish, coated in lime juice, salt, chilli, and finely diced onion. But beyond marinated fish and chilli, these components are the product of the Colombian Exchange – where Spanish and Portuguese settlers exchanged crops and livestock, among which were citrus trees and alliums. This transfer permanently altered the culinary landscape in the Americas, and layed the foundation for what we now recognise as ceviche.

At its core, ceviche is a method of marination. Immersing the fish in citrus results in a ‘cooking’ process called denaturation: the acid lowers the pH of the fish, causing the proteins to re-form, turning the fish opaque and firm. Historically, the raw fish would have been left in lime juice for a much longer period – 12 -14 hours – to help kill some of the bacteria. With such a lengthy process, the texture is transformed; the proteins in the fish firm into something tougher and rubberier than the ceviche we’re used to today.

With the emigration of Japanese diaspora in the 20^th century, ceviche took on a new iteration. The cuisine Nikkei - the Japanese word for emigrants - became embedded in Peruvian cooking. Though small in population - only 1% of Japanese immigrants remain in Peru - the enduring cultural influence far outweighs the size. Peruvian flavours such as pisco - a fiery, brandy-like spirit - and the native purple potato are woven throughout Nikkei cuisine and reinterpretated in traditional dishes like ‘causa’ - a layered potato dish. This cultural exchange went both ways; soy sauce and miso entered Peruvian gastronomy in dishes like ‘lomo saltado’ – a Peruvian beef stir fry.

But it was in the 1970s that renown chef Nobu Matsuhisa, founder of Nobu, opened his first restaurant in Peru and with it popularised a reinvented version of ceviche that would go on to become a global dish. Japanese techniques and refined culinary skills -such as sashimi preparation and an ethos of celebrating fresh, raw fish - transformed traditional ceviche into a lightly cured, more delicately flavoured dish. Nobu invented ‘tiradito,’ a signature dish of Nikkei food, by mixing thinly sliced raw fish with lime juice and Peruvian peppers.

This enduring legacy means that in modern versions of ceviche, the raw fish needs just 30 minutes to ‘cook’ in this marinade, and you’re left with a fiery, citrusy sap called ‘leche de tigre’ or milk of the tiger. There is debate about the appropriate ‘class’ of raw fish to cook with. So-called ‘sushi grade’ fish means very little and seems to be an arbitrary metric, used mainly for marketing purposes. The claim that is only as trustworthy as the fish market that labels it. Then there’s the issue of availability and price. Ultimately, you want the freshest fish you can get. Supermarket fish can be more susceptible to tapeworm. Though I have used it to make ceviche before, it’s probably best avoided. Going to a fishmonger is preferred, or a fish counter at a supermarket.

Below, I’ve used Nigel Slater’s ceviche recipe, which incorporates grapefruit and cucumber. Because limes in the UK are less sweet than Peruvian limes, the grapefruit lends a slightly sweeter tartness to the dish.

The main is a spatchcock chicken swimming in a more rustic romesco sauce, but in a more undone way. I’ve skipped the traditional almonds to make for a lighter, looser sauce, and instead of blending the charred peppers until smooth, I’ve roughly chopped them to add texture. It doesn’t have the classic rich orange hue you might associate with romesco; it’s a lighter spring take. The focus here is the sherry vinegar - a round-bodied vinegar with a fruity tang, mellowed by the richness of the roast chicken fat.

For the two-bean salad, butter beans are first marinated in an anchovy-Aleppo chilli oil, then combined with blanched green beans. For the vinegar, I used red wine vinegar to quick-pickle shallots and chilli. At a PH of 3, red wine vinegar is sharp – ideal to cut through starchy beans and enliven blanched green beans. This is topped with shaved fennel and loads of fresh herbs.

For the potatoes, I roasted them on high heat and, while still warm, introduced them to a mustard and pickling liquid mixture, letting them soak up the vinegar. I then topped them with browned butter, crispy capers, dill, and parsley to lift the dish.

Finally, I cooked the broccolini in the remaining chicken fat from the roast chicken, then topped it with the remaining pickled shallots and red chilli to contrast against the fat.

Chicken with an ‘Undone’ Romesco Sauce

Ingredients

Chicken

• 1 large whole chicken, spatchcocked

• 2 teaspoons fennel seeds

• 1 teaspoon flaky sea salt

• 1 teaspoon black peppercorns, toasted and coarsely crushed

• 1 head of garlic, halved

Romesco Sauce

• 6 red peppers

• 2 red chillies

• 3 vine-ripened tomatoes

• 3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil

• 1½ tablespoons sherry vinegar

• Juice of ½ lemon

• 1 teaspoon Aleppo chili flakes

• 2 teaspoons paprika

• Salt and pepper, to taste

• Handful of fresh dill

• Handful of fresh parsley

Method

Chicken

1. Spatchcock the chicken, pat it dry, and season with 2 teaspoons of fine sea salt. Leave uncovered in the fridge overnight, or for at least 3 hours. Remove from the fridge 1 hour before cooking.

2. Dab off any excess salt. Coarsely crush the black peppercorns and fennel seeds, and rub onto the chicken along with 1 teaspoon of flaky sea salt. Preheat the oven to 180°C.

3. In a large ovenproof pan, heat a splash of olive oil and sear the chicken skin-side down until golden, about 10 minutes.

4. Place a pan lid or weights on top and cook for roughly 45 minutes or until the thickest part of the breast reaches 71°C. If the skin isn’t browned enough, finish under the grill for a few minutes.

5. Rest the chicken for at least 15 minutes before carving. Reserve the chicken fat for the broccolini.

Romesco Sauce

1. Preheat the grill or oven to 240°C. Grill the red peppers, chillies, and tomatoes for 30 minutes, turning halfway, until well charred. Place in a bowl and cover.

2. Once cooled, peel and deseed the vegetables. Add to a blender with the remaining ingredients and adjust seasoning to taste.

3. Spread the romesco sauce on a large plate, top with the chicken and its juices, and finish with plenty of dill and parsley.

Roasted New Potatoes with Crispy Capers & Pickle Brine Vinaigrette

Ingredients

• 500g new potatoes

• Handful of dill, chopped

• 3 tablespoons of capers, (roughly chopped and dried)

• 3 tablespoons of butter

• 1.5 tablespoons of pickle brine

Method

1. Preheat the oven to 200 degrees Celsius. Slice the new potatoes in half then parboil in very salty water for 5-8 minutes or until soft when pierced. Let them steam dry. Then cover in olive oil, some flaky salt, and roast for 20-30 minutes or until crispy.

2. Add the butter to a pan and fry until brown and nutty. Set aside. In the same pan, add a shot of olive oil and add the capers. Fry until crispy.

3. Combine butter and pickle brine, salt and pepper. Pour over the potatoes while they are still warm

4. Top with the dill and crispy capers.

Two-bean Salad with an Anchovy-chilli Dressing

Ingredients

Marinated Butter Beans

• 1 x 750g jar Bold Bean Co butter beans

• Sprigs of thyme

• Sprigs of oregano

• 4 tbsp olive oil

• ½ lemon, zest and cubed flesh

• 5 garlic cloves, grated

• 5 anchovies (or ½ jar)

• 1 tsp Aleppo chilli flakes

• 1 tsp fennel seeds

• 1 tsp crushed black peppercorns

Green Beans & Garnish

• 250g green beans

• ½ bulb fennel

• 2 red chillies

• 4 shallots

• 3 tbsp red wine vinegar

• ½ tsp caster sugar

• 1 tsp nigella seeds

• handful of dill, chopped

• handful of parsley, chopped

• handful of basil, chopped

1. Add olive oil to a cold pan, then add the anchovies, thyme, oregano, lemon, Aleppo chilli, fennel, salt, and pepper. Slowly bring to temperature until bubbling gently, about 10 minutes.

2. Add the butter beans and stock. Stir to combine, then leave to cool—overnight if possible.

3. Pickle the chilli and shallots: finely slice both, then stir in vinegar, sugar, and salt. Leave for at least 15 minutes.

4. Finely slice the fennel using a mandolin or by hand. Add to the marinated beans and stir gently.

5. Prepare an ice bath in a large bowl. Bring a large pot of heavily salted water to a boil, then blanch the green beans in two batches for 2–2½ minutes. Immediately transfer to the ice bath.

6. Pat the beans dry, then gently combine with the butter beans. Add half the pickled shallots and chilli, plus 2 tablespoons of the pickling liquid. Reserve the rest for the broccolini.

7. Top with fresh herbs and nigella seeds.

Charred Broccolini with pickled shallots & chilli

Ingredients

· 300g broccolini

· Remaining pickled shallots and chilli

· ½ a lemon

Method

1. Slice any larger broccolini stems if needed. Heat the reserved chicken fat with a splash of oil over medium-high heat. Add the broccolini and fry until charred, flipping once browned - about 5 minutes. Season to taste.

2. Reduce the heat, add 2 tablespoons of water, cover with a lid, and steam for 3 minutes or until tender. Turn off the heat and squeeze over half a lemon.

3. Plate and top with the pickled shallots and chilli.

Dating back to 3000 BC, vinegar is one of the oldest fermented products. Left-over pulp from fruit trees were first made into wine, then fermented further into vinegar. What was likely an unintentional creation - a by-product of spoilt wine - the word vinegar comes from French for vin agaire (sour wine) – it’s potency now lies in its versatility and array of flavours. Vinegar is made in a two-stage fermentation process. It begins with alcoholic fermentation, where yeast converts sugars from a raw material (fruit, barley etc.) into alcohol. Then, exposed to air, acetic acid bacterial transforms the alcohol into vinegar over some months. To kickstart the process, a vinegar ‘mother’ is used – a gelatinous disk formed of cellulose – which feeds on alcoholic liquids and forms the starter culture. Modern techniques often use an acetator, which pumps oxygen and speeds up the fermentation process. But this increase in speed equally diminishes the intricate flavour of the vinegar, which is incrementally layered by age and ferment.

The evolution of balsamic vinegar offers a prime example. Following the traditional Italian method, grape juice is made into syrup then transferred between wooden barrels. Each type of wood imparts subtle flavours - spice, smoke - which the alcohol slowly absorbs over a minimum of 12 years, then transforms into vinegar. This process gradually concentrates its natural sugars, acids and aromatics, and amalgamates to form the distinct balsamic amber syrup. But commercial methods have eschewed this tradition. Grape juice is instead combined with white wine vinegar, then injected with colouring and thickening agents to imitate the flavour and texture. But what is left is a pale imitation of the real thing. Using traditional methods, unless you buy more than one bottle from the same batch, it’s unlikely you’ll taste the same vinegar twice.

Across the globe, vinegar is essential to almost every cuisine. Because of variations in natural produce and fermentation processes, each have unique aromas and characteristics. Throughout Africa, fruit vinegar is made from the abundant fruit - pineapples, mangoes, bananas - Ghanaian cuisine uses pineapple vinegar in marinades and traditional remedies. In East Asia, dishes are frequently seasoned with more starch-rich vinegars. In Japan, sushi rice glistens with a dash of rice wine vinegar, and in China, plump wontons are dipped in smoky and tart Chinese black vinegar, cutting through the fat. In the Philippines, cane vinegar and coconut vinegar work to balance the sour, salty and sweet flavour profiles. Such flavours are indicative of the local agriculture and reflects the distinct cultural cuisines of each country.

Acid is an integral part of flavour and ignites our tastebuds. On the palate, it creates the contrast between salt, fat and bitterness and brings everything into balance. Typically, vinegar has a low pH between 2 and 3, which is what gives it a tang. The low PH also affects texture, tenderising meat in marinades by helping to break down the protein. Add it earlier in the cooking process, and the heat will tame the pungency, evaporating some of the acetic acid and causing the PH to climb slightly. At it at the end and the acid will stay sharp, lifting a pan sauce or adding vim to a salad.

There’s a broad spectrum of vinegars, some with a mouth-puckering sourness, and others that are milder and more flavoursome. In the UK, we’re more familiar with the strong tang of malt vinegar soaked into chips, or white wine vinegar emulsified into a vinaigrette and glazed over salads. But artisan companies are expanding the vinegar vernacular. Ingredients like lavender, lemon verbena, capture the essence of more unique ingredients and can drastically change the direction of a dish. For a starchy dish like a potato salad, celery vinegar would lend a vegetal flavour, or drizzled over a tomato salad, lovage vinegar would accentuate the natural earthy notes. As salad season creeps in, let a good-quality vinegar, dashed over torn leaves, be the high note of a dish.

My vinegar-inspired dinner part menu will be on the next post.

Since World War II, with increased access to animal protein, beans have been sidelined. Before the war, beans were a staple, especially among lower-income groups, thanks to their affordability and high nutritional value. This decline is undeserved - they play an active role in providing nourishment and restoring soil ecosystems. Beans, like broad beans, have deep root systems that help sequester carbon in the soil, allowing carbon to be stored in deeper layers. Beans can offset up to 0.9 metric tons of CO₂ per acre per year. In terms of soil health, beans can ‘fix’ atmospheric nitrogen into forms that plants can use, reducing the need for synthetic fertilisers. This improved nitrogen supply can also increase the growth of cover crops and boost the soil organic matter, helping to regenerate nutrient-deficient soil. In tackling broken food systems, climate change, and nutrition, beans offer a deliciously simple solution.

In the culinary landscape, beans have had an intricate history, interwoven with geopolitics and cultural exchange. In the Middle East, bean-based dishes reflect the varied climate across the region and the advent of trading routes. Take falafel for instance, its variations are found across the Middle East. With roots traced back to Egypt, falafel, or ‘ta’ameya’, is traditionally made with fava beans - ideal crops in Nile-basin farming as the fertile, irrigated soils provide optimal growing conditions. But because of what land could produce, and as new trading routes were etched across countries, the Egyptian falafel diverged. Spreading to Palestine, the upland Mediterranean farming created an ideal climate for growing chickpeas, and replaced fava beans as the pulse of choice.

As the veins of new trading routes stretched out, new food items flowed through. New aromatics were imported – saffron, cumin, sumac - via Southeast Asian trade routes. These migrations of food were spread throughout the Arab Eastern Mediterranean and have since forged the basis of the Levantine cuisine. The spiced cumin in the Palestinian falafel and the coriander in the Lebanese version are testaments to this cultural exchange. Each nation’s falafel comes with its own story of diaspora and local ecology, adapting to whichever resources were available in the region.

Beans are now very much a global food, and throughout the world, cuisines have a long-standing tradition of cooking and growing them. In South America, black beans are mashed or stewed throughout the continent, in the Caribbean, kidney beans are nestled between rice, and in East Asian cooking, soybeans are fermented into silky umami sauces. Although you’ll find bean dishes throughout the Mediterranean, Spain has led the charge as Europe’s primary exporter of jarred beans. You would be hard-pressed to find a canned bean in Spain. As a cornerstone of the Spanish diet - roughly 30% of pulse consumption consists of beans - the jarred kind is less processed and yields a better-tasting product. In 2021, the UK imported around 402 tonnes of jarred beans from Spain - and this number is growing.

In the UK, beans have increased in popularity. Companies like Bold Bean Co, Brindisa, and Navarrico are leading a new generation. The difference in the flavour of jarred beans vs canned is vast. More robust in texture, creamier, and nuttier in flavour, they don’t have any lingering metallic taste nor the powdery texture you might find in a can. They have a place, but they are lackluster as the main element of a dish. Companies like Bold Bean Co are helping to change that narrative, harnessing social media to elevate beans to the spotlight they deserve.

My recipe below leans into jarred beans taking center stage. Inspired by a Levantine dish, muhammar, I’ve combined Bold Bean Co’s queen butter beans with a charred pepper-based sauce that blends earthy flavours and spices, with a sharp tanginess running through it. Greek yoghurt forms the base so that the heat of the red-stained oil will split the yoghurt and meld the flavours - perfect to mop up with a hunk of bread. I’ve added dukkah on top - a pounded mixture of nuts and spices - to lend more texture and crunch to the dish.

Butter beans with charred muhammar dip and dukkah

Ingredients

Muhammar beans

• 1 jar of Bold Bean co. queen butter beans

• 2 tbs extra virgin olive oil

• 2 romesco peppers (substitute for 3 red peppers)

• 2 fresh red chillies

• 20g walnuts

• 1 garlic bulb (roasted)

• 1 tsp smoked paprika

• 1 tsp coriander seeds

• 1 tsp cumin seeds

• ½ Aleppo chili flakes

• 1/2 lemon (zest and juice), adjust to taste

• 1tbs pomegranate molasses, adjust to taste

Dukkah topping

• 1 tbs coriander seeds

• 1 tbs cumin seeds

• 1 tsp fennel seeds

• 1 tbs sesame seeds

• 3 tbs hazelnuts

• 1 tsp paprika

• 1tsp Aleppo chili flakes

• 1 tsp flaky sea salt

Tahini-Yoghurt Base

• 5 tbs Greek yoghurt

• ½ lemon juice

• drizzle of honey

• 1 garlic clove

• 2 tbs tahini

Recipe:

1. Preheat your oven or grill to 240°C (220 fan). Place peppers and chillies on a roasting tray, drizzle with oil, then roast for approximately. 15-20 minutes until charred, turning halfway through. At the same time, wrap the garlic bulb in foil, drizzle with olive oil, seal tightly, and place in the oven.

2. Once the peppers and chillies are charred, transfer them to a bowl and cover with cling film to help loosen the skins. Then peel and deseed when cool. Turn the oven down to 160°C and continue cooking the garlic until soft when pressed. This should take a further 15-20 minutes. Remove garlic from the oven then gently crush, discarding its outer skin.

3. Toast the whole spices on low heat until fragrant for 3-5 minutes, then crush in a pestle and mortar. Then add the roasted peppers, chillies, garlic, and remaining spices to a blender, and pulse into a rough paste. Stir in lemon juice, zest, and pomegranate molasses, adjusting acidity. Adjust consistency with oil or a splash of water, and season to taste – it should be fairly loose.

4. In a pan, gently heat the muhammara and butter beans - stock included - over low to medium heat for approx. 5-10 minutes until warmed through and thick.

5. Meanwhile, make the dukkah. Toast the nuts until fragrant for approximately 5 minutes, watching carefully to prevent burning, do the same for the spices for 2-3 minutes. Then crush them in a pestle and mortar until they reach a coarse texture.

6. To assemble, spread Greek yoghurt onto a plate, then spoon over the warm beans. Whisk tahini with the juice of half a lemon, olive oil, and a splash of water until smooth, then drizzle over the dish. Finish with a generous sprinkle of the dukkah.

Dating back to the 16^th century, as the transatlantic trade system opened up new pathways to the Americas, the tomato made its way back from Mexico to Italy via Spanish colonisers. Taking root in Italy as an exotic import, tomatoes were cultivated by botanists and initially reserved for the elite. Over time, southern Italians began incorporating tomatoes into cooking. In the 17^th century, early references came from Neapolitan chef Antonio Latini and his book ‘Lo Scalco alla Moderna’ (‘The Modern Steward’) where tomato dishes were described as alla spagnuola or ‘in the Spanish style’ – a testimony to their cultural import.

As agricultural systems became savvier in the 18^th centuries, Italian farmers developed new types of tomatoes. Varieties like the Pomodoro Giallo – a yellow tomato prized for its low acidity and delicate flavour – began to emerge. With this botanical expansion came the shaping of regional preferences and cooking traditions - reflecting the unique climate and character. In Campania, the Piennolo del Vesuvio tomato – a vibrant, tangy variety - became a staple for sauces simmered over hours, robust enough to bring a bold flavour to Neapolitan cooking like in a marinara sauce. It was thanks to novel canning techniques in the 20^th century which gave rise to a significant export industry and stitched tomatoes and Italy together in the world’s imagination.

In the world of tomatoes, San Marzano are seen as the gold standard and the pride of Southern Italian growers. Though varieties like the slim pear-shaped Roma tomato, the sweet and pulpy texture of the Datternini packed into Mutti cans are popular, San Marzano still wears the crown. Their superior taste may be chalked up to a few things. Grown out of volcanic ash, the soil is rich in minerals, combined with the Mediterranean microclimate of the Campania region, making for a sweeter tomato with lower acidity and fewer seeds – almost tailor-made for sauces. They’re also rich in glutamate - nature’s own MSG - which cranks up their deep, umami flavour. Though their birthplace is in the south, San Marzano’s are used in the North, in dishes like the Roman classic Pasta all’Amatriciana to balance the richness of the guanciale.

In Italy, food is deeply regional – a jigsaw of geographic and cultural nuance. The ingredients in a pomodoro sauce are based on baked-in regional traditions and ideas of culinary purism. The debate that separates the Northern pomodoro sauce and the south is regarding whether onions should be present. In Naples, onions have no place in a sauce – a classic sauce containing only tomatoes, garlic, olive oil and salt. The North Italian – home of the sofrito, the base for ragu, add onions to give sweetness, especially when the tomato quality is subject to regional growing discrepancy.

In the recipe below, I’ve used tinned San Marzano. Unless its tomato season, tinned will yield a better taste. Ensure to check the tin has DOP on it – a label that ensures the tomatoes are authentically San Marzano. With the rest of the ingredients, I’ve gone the northern Italian way and added a few very finely diced shallots to my sauce. When slowly confited with olive oil and garlic, they collapse into the oil virtually indetectable - imparting a sweetness that balances the acidity of the tomato. As there are only five ingredients in this, using the best quality extra virgin olive oil that you can is well worth it. It seems like a lot of olive oil, but it will combine with the rest of the ingredients then re-emulsify with the pasta water, creating a luxurious and very delicious sauce.

The Recipe

Ingredients:

8 oz can of San Marzano tomatoes

Large handful of basil

2 bulbs of garlic

6 banana shallots

300ml Extra virgin olive oil

Method:

1. Finely dice your shallots and garlic. Pour 300ml of olive oil into a large pan, then add the shallots and garlic. Put the pan on a low heat and slowly bring the oil up to temperature. Stir the pan every now and again and let the onions and garlic confit in the oil for about 15-20 minutes, until they have collapsed.

2. Blend the tomatoes or crush with your hand, then add to the pan with the basil and season. Increase the heat and bring the sauce to a boil, then reduce to a steady simmer and cook for 40-55 mins, or until the oil separates from the sauce and it turns a deep red colour.

3. Cook the pasta until just before its al dente, then, in a separate pan, spoon a few ladles of the sauce and a ladle of pasta water, and toss vigorously over high heat to emulsify the sauce.

4. Finish with parmesan and extra basil.

Tinned fish often gets a bad rap. Frequently seen as a frugal pantry staple - think sardines - or, though a flavour powerhouse - think anchovies—they rarely take center stage in their own right. In recent years, gourmet tins adorned with whimsical artwork have been popping up all over delis. Tinned octopus doused in garlic oil, stuffed squid swimming in a rich tomato sauce - or an even more refined offering of sea urchin roe. There’s a whole ecosystem of canned sea creatures to sample - the tinned fish market is a treasure trove of options. It must be said not all tinned seafood is created equally, nor should it be. Fish is a finite resource and should be treated as a luxury — but thankfully, companies like Conservas La Brujula and Siesta Co. are paving the way in making seafood more sustainable and accessible.

Portugal and Spain have set the gold standard of tinned food. But as popularity increases and novel canning techniques improve, the UK is slowly catching up. Cornish brands like Hevva! and Rockfish offer seafood caught sustainably in UK waters and use the Marine Conservation Society’s Good Fish Guide to select their fish ethically.

The best thing about tinned fish is that it requires minimal effort, but looks and tastes fantastic. Inspired by the beautifully plated food account moss_en_place, I chose something similar to a crudo, Italian meaning ‘raw’, typically raw fish dressed with some kind of acid, olive oil and salt in its simplest form. The fresh, acidic base perfectly counterbalances the rich fish flavour; use any combination of acidic dressing, topped with tender herbs (basil, coriander, chives), then chilli and zest for colour and flavour.

Add a hunk of bread to mop up the fishy oil, a pickle, a fresh radish here and there and you’ve got an impressive spread with only 30 minutes of prep. I can’t really call it a recipe, but below is my way of assembling the tins.

Squid with sesame oil and tomato-lime vinaigrette 

1 tin of Jose Gourmet stuffed squid
6 large ripe tomatoes 
2 tablespoons sesame oil
2 teaspoons soy sauce 
1 lime (zest and juice)
1/2 orange (zest and juice) 
A few coriander leaves for garnish 

1. Roughly chop the tomatoes and blend with a pinch of salt until it reaches a pulp
2. Pour the blended tomatoes into a sieve set over a bowl and let them strain for 5 minutes
3. Add the soy sauce and lime juice to the strained tomato juice, stirring to combine
3. On a plate, drizzle the sesame oil, then spoon over the tomato vinaigrette
4. Gently chop the squid and arrange it on the plate
5. Zest the lime and orange, then squeeze the orange juice over the squid. Sprinkle the zest on top and finish with coriander leaves

White anchovies with lemon, radish and pickled chillies

I tin of Conservas Nardín white anchovies 
2 tablespoons of good quality olive oil
1/2 lemon (zest and juice)
1 radish, finely sliced (for garnish)
1 tsp pickled chillies *see below*
A few parsley leaves 

1. Make the pickled chillies and let sit for 10 minutes. 
2. Pour the olive oil onto a plate and arrange the anchovies on top.
2. Scatter the radish slices and lemon zest over the anchovies, then squeeze over the lemon juice
3. Finish with the pickled chillies and parsley leaves

Octopus with orange, red onion and pickled chillies

1 tin of Jose Gourmet octopus 
2 tablespoons of good quality olive oil
1 orange (zest and juice)
1/2 lemon (zest and juice)
1/4 red onion 
1 teaspoon of pickled chilli *see below*

1. Finely slice the red onion and zest the orange and lemon
2. Pour the olive oil onto a plate and arrange the octopus on top
3. Layer the sliced onion over the octopus, drizzle with the orange and lemon juice, and sprinkle the zest on top

For the pickled red chillies

1. Finely slice 2 red chillies, place in bowl. 
2. Combine 1 tsp sugar, 1 tbs red wine vinegar, a pinch of salt, and let sit for 10 mins

Unanimously, stock is the building block of cooking - a foundation of French cooking - see bisque, but also seen in cuisines across the globe. In Japan tonkotsu broth is made from stewed pork bones, prawn heads are steeped and crushed to form the base of a Malaysian laksa. There is nothing better, for nutrients and flavour, than making your own stock. Stock cubes have a time and a place, but the unctuous ‘mouthfeel’ - the sheen in a risotto, a glossy sauce, comes from the gelatine and collagen found in the bits of tendons, wings, and feet. Parts that are often neglected or thrown away - so turn waste into flavour.

If you have the time, I’d recommend buying a whole chicken, butchering it into sections (see YouTube) then using the carcass and bones for broth. It’s by far the cheapest way of buying chicken. Cheap cuts of bones/ meat will work here to impart flavour, collagen, and fat. Or, if you have the leftovers from a roast chicken, reserve the carcass for stock. In its simplest form, a chicken stock comprises chicken bones, vegetables, and aromatics. The combination will depend on the flavour you want to impart - more carrot will result in a sweeter stock, mushrooms will impart an earthier more umami flavour. The aromatics - parsley, thyme, even lemongrass, ginger - the list goes on - will pull the flavour profile in different directions.

For a basic stock, I combine carrots, onions, celery, bay leaves, parsley, thyme, and peppercorns. Add enough water to cover the carcass, and let the stock tick away on a light simmer for at least two hours, preferably 3-5. Make sure to skim the top for impurities and fat every so often, and you’re left with liquid gold.

To note: roasting the bones before simmering creates 'brown stock', which yields a deeper, richer flavour. Skipping the roasting results in ‘white stock’, offering a lighter, more delicate taste. Both are delicious, but the former is preferable for its more robust toastier, more chicken-y flavour.

Failing that, find the best quality stock you can get your hands on. Butchers are often your best bet here.

RECIPE

Ingredients (feeds 4-6)

For the stock
A whole medium chicken
2 carrots
3 celery sticks
1 whole onion
1 crushed garlic clove
1 bay leaf
1 teaspoon black peppercorns
Handful of thyme
A few sprigs of rosemary
Handful of parsley

For the soup
1.5 litres of chicken stock (see above)
2 large shallots
2 carrots
2 celery sticks
3 garlic cloves
1 red chilli
10 fresh curry leaves
1 teaspoon brown mustard seeds
2 lemongrass stalks
A small handful of parsley (stalks included)
A few sprigs of thyme
A thumb of ginger
1/2 inch of fresh turmeric (substitute for 1 teaspoon of dried)
1 bay leaf
1 cup of plain flour
1 tablespoon of butter
1 teaspoon of sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons of baking powder
1 cup of milk

METHOD 

For the stock 
1.  Preheat the oven to 240 degrees. Butcher the whole chicken into legs, wings, and breasts. I used this tutorial. Remove bones from the legs and thighs, set the meat aside for later. Place the carcass, bones, and wings onto a baking sheet and roast for 20 minutes. 
2.  Meanwhile, slice carrots, celery, and onion into 1/2 an inch pieces and set a large pot on medium heat with a shot of oil. Add the vegetables to the pot and fry until they start to brown. Add the chicken carcass and bones, the peppercorns, thyme, rosemary, bay leaf and a teaspoon of salt. Fill the pot with enough cold water to cover the bones.  3.  Bring to the boil then turn down to simmer for a least of 1.5 hours, 3 hours is ideal. Skim off the fat that rises to the surface with a ladle. Add the parsley at the end and leave to cool. Drain and reserve 1.5 litres of stock for the soup, freeze the rest.   

For the soup 
1.  Make the soup. Dice the carrots, celery, shallots, chilli, garlic, and parsley stalks. Grate the ginger and turmeric.  
2.  On low heat, add a shot of oil to a large pot and add the diced vegetables and sweat down for 5-10 minutes until soft. Add in the grated ginger, turmeric, mustard seeds, and curry leaves and cook for a few minutes.  
3.  Bash the lemongrass with a knife, cut into halves and add to the pot along with the thyme.  
4.  Pour in the chicken stock and bring to a gentle simmer. Add the chicken legs and thighs and poach for 12-15 minutes (check the meat after 10 minutes). Remove the chicken and shred.  
5.  Make the dumplings. Combine flour, baking powder, salt, and sugar in a bowl. Cut in the butter and combine until it resembles wet sand. Add in the milk and let it rest for 5 minutes.  
6.  Spoon the dumpling batter into the pot, return to a gentle simmer, and  place a lid on top. Leave undisturbed for 15 minutes.  
7.  Finely chop the remaining parsley leaves and add them to the pot along with the shredded chicken. Squeeze in the juice of half a lemon and stir. Enjoy!

As the citrus season is at its best now, I have created a menu inspired by the aromatic and tangy citrus notes found in East Asian cooking. Throughout the region, citrus flavours come in many forms. From the earthy notes of makrut lime and lemongrass peeking through in a fragrant sambal - distinct in Southeast Asian cooking - to the piquant tartness of pomelo and fresh lime. These bright, citrusy notes lift the pungent aromatics of fish sauce and chili often found in Thai and Vietnamese salads. While not traditional, I used blood orange as something akin to the Japanese Yuzu fruit - a sharp, sweet fruit - and created a kind of citrus ponzu - translated as 'vinegar punch'.

As I was planning this recipe, the Lunar New Year was underway, with dim sum in all its forms flooding my feed. Plump wontons doused in soy sauce, the golden crust and pillowy interior of fried turnip cake - we are spoilt for choice in London's China Town. Although making it at home can be, at times, more technically challenging, the results were immensely satisfying and the advanced prep is ideal for a dinner party. 

THE MENU

THE INGREDIENTS

Sourcing some of the more specific ingredients can prove slightly tricky. While Chinese turnip (mooli) can be found in many greengrocers and some supermarkets, you’ll need a trip to your local Chinese supermarket for Chinese sausage, dried shrimp, shrimp paste (belachan), wonton wrappers, and puffed tofu.

If you don't have an Asian supermarket nearby, Zing Asia - an Asian wholesale online shop - or Amazon may be your best bet.

THE PREP

The trick with this menu is the prep. Making turnip cake (Lo Bak Go) can be fiddly, but doing this several days in advance can ease the process. The sambal, too, will benefit from cooking earlier allowing the flavours to meld. The menu is designed with prep two days in advance, or even a week or month before, but you can also do it on the day - it will just require a fair amount of speed and organisation.

• Shiitake Mushroom and Tofu Wontons: Prep in advance - these wontons can be frozen up to a month ahead. Aside from the salad, this was the easiest of the dishes, once you get the hang of the folding - I used this tutorial.

• Turnip Cake: Prep in advance - after making the steamed cake, this can be kept in the fridge a week in advance, or a month in the freezer. You can play around with the proportions of dried shrimp, sausage, and shiitake mushrooms. This dish is well worth making - it was a stand out.

• Sambal Aubergine Tofu: Prep in advance. For the tamarind paste, I bought whole tamarind pods to create a paste using this tutorial, but buying a good quality tamarind concentrate like this, or a pulp block will save time and still yield great flavour.

• Miso and Blood Orange Chicken: Prep in advance - I’d recommend marinating the chicken for a minimum of 24 hours and up to 72 hours in advance to tenderize the chicken and allow the flavours to infuse.

• Smacked Cucumber, Pomelo and Pineapple Salad: Prep on the day - this was another standout dish. A trick to keeping the salad crisp is to soak the cucumber, pineapple and pomelo in an ice bath after slicing.

THE RECIPES

Mushroom and Tofu wontons - Prep in advance

Parcels stuffed with shiitake mushrooms, tofu and chives were my vegetarian take on the traditionally meaty wonton. Shiitake mushrooms impart a smoky, more concentrated flavour than with regular mushrooms. 

The key is finding the balance between a mixture that's too wet and one that's too dry. If the mixture is too wet, the wonton will fall apart, but too dry and the mixture will splay and separate when folding. Cornflour here is important to help bind the ingredients in the absence of animal fat. 

Ingredients (feeds 8 as a starter)
Wontons
1 block of firm tofu, crumbled
200g shiitake mushrooms, finely chopped
1 spring onion
4 garlic cloves
Thumb of ginger, grated
3 tablespoons soy sauce
1 teaspoon honey
1 tablespoon sesame oil
2 tablespoons shaoxing wine (substitute 1 tablespoon mirin)
1/2 teaspoon white pepper
4 tablespoons chopped chives
1/2 tablespoon cornflour
1/2 teaspoon MSG

Dipping Sauce
1 tablespoon chili oil
2 tablespoons sesame oil
2 tablespoons soy sauce
1/2 teaspoon sugar
1 tablespoon Chinese black vinegar (substitute balsamic vinegar)
1 clove grated garlic

Method
1.  Crumble the tofu block until it resembles the texture of mince. Finely chop mushroom, spring onions and chives.
2.  Heat 2 tablespoons of oil on medium heat and sweat the mushrooms, chives and spring onion for 5-7 minutes. Add in the garlic and cook for a few more minutes, then add the rest of the ingredients. Set the mixture aside to cool 
3.  To fold make the wontons, I recommend familiarising yourself with this tutorial. After folding, lay them in a tray with clingfilm or parchment paper to prevent sticking.
4. Make the dipping sauce by combining all ingredients and set aside. 
5.  To cook the wontons, bring a large pan of salted water to boil and lower the wontons in gently. Do this in batches and be careful not to over-crowd the pan. Set a timer for 3 minutes. They should rise to the surface when cooked. 
6.  To assemble, using a slotted spoon, lift the wontons into bowls and spoon a generous amount of chili oil over the top. Adding a splash of the cooking water will help prevent sticking. Garnish with sliced spring onion and sesame seeds. 

Turnip Cake - Prep in advance

For this recipe, I followed the Woks of Life Turnip Cake (Chinese Lo Bak Go) recipe. They have excellent recipes on a range of Chinese cooking. It’s well worth watching the YouTube video tutorial a few times before attempting. 

To note: if, like me, you don't own a steamer, you can create a makeshift one by placing a metal bowl inside a large pot, pouring the water around the bowl, and placing a lid on top. I found the turnip cake took an hour to cook, as opposed to the suggested 40-50 minutes steaming time. The clean skewer test will be your best bet. 

Aubergine & Tofu Sambal - Prep in advance

Sambal has many different versions, I’ve chosen a malaysian version, packed with fragrant aromatics like chilies, shrimp paste (belachan) and citrussy tamarind - all soaked up by tender aubergine flesh - making for a deeply umami dish.

Bare in mind that generally, larger chillies will be milder. Although the quantity of dried chilies may seem intimidating, they are much milder than their fresh counterparts.

Ingredients (Serves 6-8 people, depending on other dishes)
15 dried chillies (soaked for 30 minutes)
6-8 fresh chilies (adjust depending on spice levels 
10 shallots
1 inch of ginger
2 lemongrass stalks
2 makrut lime leaves – central vein discarded and finely sliced
6 garlic cloves
3 tablespoon tamarind
1 tablespoon belachan 
1 tablespoon fish sauce 
3 tablespoons tomato paste
2 tablespoons palm sugar 
5 tablespoons of neutral oil
2 limes 
handful of coriander
4 aubergines 
1 block of puffed tofu (susbstitute for extra firm tofu)

Method
1. Slice the aubergine into thumb-sized pieces, place in a colander with a teaspoon of salt and let drain for 30 minutes. 
2. Make the sambal paste. Roughly chop shallots, ginger and garlic and the white part of the lemongrass and add to a blender. You can also use a pestle and mortar. Add the soaked dried chillies, fresh chillies, tomato paste and blend with a splash of the chilli water. 
2. Heat a large pan over medium heat, and toast the belachan in the dry pan for a few minutes until fragrant. Make sure your kitchen is well ventilated. Then blend with the rest of the ingredients. 
3. In the same pan, heat up the oil and fry the paste for 20-30 until the oil seperates and the paste darkens to a deep red colour. 
4. Add the tamarind, palm sugar, fish sauce, and water and simmer for 10 minutes. Adjust seasoning to taste. If making in advance, leave to cool and refrigerate. 
5. Rinse off the salt off the aubergines. dry, then roast for 30 minutes until golden. If using extra-firm tofu, dry with kitchen roll before roasting for 20-30 minutes. 
6. Heat up the sambal and add the aubergine and tofu into the pan. Add 1/2 cup of water to loosen the sambal and simmer for 15 minutes or so. Add more water if needed, the consistency should thick but not paste-like. 
7. Assemble the dish. Squeeze over the lime juice, chopped coriander, and sesame seeds. 

Miso and blood Orange Chicken - Prep in advance

The salty and sweet tanginess of the miso and blood orange pair perfectly. White (shiro) miso is milder than other varieties, allowing the blood orange flavours to sing. If you're unable to find any blood oranges, regular oranges also work well, just reduce the honey by half a tablespoon. To avoid creating a bitter taste, keep an eye on the chicken skin when grilling so it blisters but doesn't burn. 

Ingredients (serves 6-8 as a side)
1kg chicken drumsticks/ thighs 
4 tablespoons miso paste 
2 blood oranges, juice and zest 
2 tablespoons soy sauce 
2 tablespoons Mirin 
2 tablespoons rice wine vinegar
75g sofened butter 
1 tablespoons honey
Sesame seeds (for garnish)
Thinly sliced spring onion (for garnish)

Method 
1. Whisk the marinade ingredients together, loosening with about 1/2 cup of water. Lightly salt the chicken, then rub with  the marinade. Refrigerate for up to two days.
2. When ready to cook, pre-heat the oven to 200 degrees, cook the chicken for 35 minutes, turning once. Then turn the oven to grill, and crisp the skin until it starts blister - around 5-10 minutes. 
3. Remove the chicken from the oven and rest. Meanwhile, heat a pan on medium heat and add the remaining marinade. Reduce until it has reached a thick, glossy consistency. 
4. Arrange chicken on a plate and spoon over the glaze. Garnish with sliced spring onion and sesame seeds. 

Smacked Cucumber, Pomelo, and Pineapple Salad - Prep on the day

A take on a Thai pomelo salad, packed with the punchy tart, sweet, and spicy dressing. I've added pineapple and cucumber to slightly mellow the sharpness of the pomelo  and to bring in an extra layer of crunch. While traditionally made with dried shrimp and desiccated coconut, I found the fish sauce to be full-flavoured enough.

Ingredients (feeds 8 as a side)
1 pomelo 
2 cucumber 
250g pineapple (approximately 1/4)
4 tablespoons fish sauce 
2 tablespoons sesame oil
1/2 Thai red chilies, depending on spice levels 
3 limes, (zest of one)
1 tbs palm sugar
5 shallots (3 for frying)
2 garlic cloves 
fresh mint, handful
fresh coriander, handful
100g peanuts, roasted 


Method
1. Smash the cucumbers with a rolling pin, then slice diagonally into 1-inch pieces. Place in a colander, add a teaspoon of fine sea salt, and let drain for a minimum of 30 minutes. Then rinse off the salt, and add to a bowl of ice water. 
2. In a large mixing bowl, combine the fish sauce, sesame seed oil, lime juice and zest, and whisk in the palm sugar with a splash of water. Add in the finely minced 2 shallots, ginger, chilli and a pinch of salt. 
3. Heat oil in a heavy bottomed saucepan. Add in reserved 3 shallots and fry until golden. This should take approx 10-15 minutes.  Remove with a slotted spoon and place on kitchen roll. Then cook the peanuts in the shallot oil until toasted and transfer to paper towel.
4.. Remove the peel and pith from pomelos and gently break into large segments. Peel and chop the pineapple into chunks and add to the bowl of ice water along with the cucumber. Finely chop the mint, coriander, and roughly chop the peanuts. Drain the cucumber, pomelo and pineapple and pat dry. 
5.  Assemble the salad. Add half the ingredients, reserving the crispy shallots, and half the dressing. Toss to coat. Add the rest of the ingredients with the dressing, and toss again. Top with the crispy shallots. 

Jasmine Rice - prep on the day 

I'd recommend leaving the rice to soak for 2 hours before you cook it, this reduces the cooking time and I've found it to be a more reliable method. I used a 1:1 rice-to-water ratio, with 600g of rice for 8 people, which was more than sufficient. 

1. Wash the rice with cold water until it runs clear. Cover the rice in water and leave to soak for 2 hours. 
2. Drain the rice and add to a large heavy-bottomed saucepan with a lid, then add 600ml of cold water. 
3. Bring the rice to a simmer then place a lid on top. Set a timer for 12 minutes, leave it undisturbed, then turn the heat off and leave to steam for 10 minutes. It's important not to lift the lid at this stage, 
4. The rice will stay warm, so it's best to start cooking an hour before guests arrive.