It’s nearly summer, and in the UK that means that one out of every 4 weekends will be BBQ-friendly, if we’re lucky.

But if you’re in or near London and you want smoky goodness without having to cower under an umbrella, you should get to the Duke’s Head in Highgate for Prairie Fire BBQ’s June residency.

I got to sneak a peek behind the scenes into the cramped quarters of the Duke’s Head kitchen, where every month, guest chefs take over and share their skills.

Prairie Fire is the brain child of American Michael Gratz, who saw a gap in the market for Kansas City style slow cooked meat. In the Duke’s Head kitchen, you’ll find his collaborators, Londoners Louis Lillywhite and Yasemin Ozekimci managing the meat, the veggie burgers, and all the fixins. Look to Laura’s homemade brownies, if you have any room left when you’re finished.

Speaking of, here’s what you’d find on the menu if (no … when) you make your way over.

Pulled pork tacos in freshly-fried shells, crunchy and absolutely loaded with toppings like chipotle sour cream, spring onions and punchy chiles. Don’t forget to try the refried bean ‘glue’ underneath, especially if you have any shell shards left over.

The mac & cheese is made with beautiful big curly tubes, al dente and covered in a silky, creamy unctious cheese sauce. I decided not to pry for the secret recipe, but this is a down and dirty cheese sauce, not some overwrought stilton and leek gastropub version.

That PFQ burger. A brief moment of doubt crept in when I cut it in half and the patties weren’t as pink as I tend to have them. After taking a bite, I realized I was very wrong. Louis’s blend of chuck and rib tip beef was juicy, meaty … very messy and absolutely packed with flavor. All of that in a toasted bun with gooey melty cheese.

Fall-apart in your fingers 16-hour smoked brisket in a delicious floury but not dry or dense bun. Seriously, why is it so hard to find a good bun? These guys have gotten it absolutely right.

The brisket completely surrenders to a plastic knife. Useful, because I was sharing it. Compared to some recent City-based brisket that will remain unnamed, this was soft and tender, lightly seasoned and obviously given the low and slow treatment. And get a look at that Prairie Fire BBQ sauce…

While it’s easy to ignore the fries as just another side dish, I can’t go without mentioning them. Crispy and crunchy, not even slightly oily, and generously dusted with spice that reminds me just a little bit of Old Bay (for the East Coasters). I barely had space for them but couldn’t stop picking at my portion, and maybe everyone else’s portions, too.

Like I said, there is also a veggie burger, but I can’t say that I’ve tried it. If you do, I’d be curious to know if you recommend it.

If you’re a beer drinker, I recommend spending a few indecisive minutes at the bar with the many great rotating options. There’s also a gin bar with Highgate-distilled Sacred and a temptation-filled cocktail menu.

While Prairie Fire don’t have anything else official in the calendar yet, keep an eye on the Prairie Fire BBQ Twitter for food market updates… and maybe even another residency soon.

Prairie Fire BBQ is at the Duke’s Head for the rest of June, every day of the week, and the kitchen is open from 12pm to 10pm. 

Keep your eyes peeled for them at Brisket Fest, where I’ve been promised you can try something from Prairie Fire that no one in the UK has done before.

Did you know … ? To be considered milk chocolate in the EU, it needs to be at least 25% cocoa solids. Chocolate is only considered dark at 70%.

Recently, I got a chocolate lesson, plus a whole lot of sweet – and fizzy – stuff at Hotel Chocolat in Victoria, London.

In between samples, we learned about the recent history of chocolate, and how tastes have changed and changed back again.

Historically, chocolate was very different – and by that I mean more bitter – than your average chocolate bar is today. Speaking of, chocolate bars came to be in 1847, in Bristol, England. Did you know chocolate bars were English? Neither did I. (So is the internet – no matter what Al Gore says.)

Until the 20th century, chocolate was considered a luxury, and it was generally heavy on the cocoa solids. It all really changed because of World War I.

Food supplies were a concern, and importing was much more difficult, so chocolate had to change. Companies like Rowntree’s and Cadbury got creative and stretched their cocoa further. Maybe you’ve heard of some inventions from that era, like Snickers, Kit Kats and Rolos.

But little by little, the chocolate experimentation has gone the other way, to more chocolatey dark chocolate, with a higher cocoa percentage.

Which leads right into Hotel Chocolat, where I snapped a piece of chocolate next to my ear, and was offered more samples than I could eat. And they didn’t even ask me to write this post – seriously.

Hotel Chocolat have been making chocolate for 28 years from their factory in Cambridge (how great must that neighborhood smell…) and they are in charge of the whole process, from bean to bar.

Their dark chocolate is heady. Rich and lightly bitter, the taste lingers. Everything about it feels luxurious. Break it in to pieces and listen to the snap. It’s completely different from the average chocolate bar. It fights back against you, just a little, before melting down into chocolately bliss.

Milk chocolate? Still rich. Sweet and creamy. Still snaps. So luxurious that you don’t even need a whole bar before you’re satisfied. Does that make it lighter calorie? Let’s say yes.

White chocolate, meanwhile – still not my favorite, but Hotel Chocolat’s contains 36% cocoa, which is the same amount as in a bar of Dairy Milk. Yep.

Oh and before I forget. Did you know you could get a cocoa pesto? And a cocoa gin? When you’re out picking up bars of chili chocolate and Mississippi mud pie, don’t forget the cocoa bitters for your cocktails.

Soon enough, I’ll be turning some 100% chocolate into a Mexican mole sauce. Wish me luck. And if I can get it right – you might just see it turn up here.

Happy 2016! My resolution for the first week of this year is to share this post, so I’m going to start the year on a high note.

Blogging is fun, but it can also be tough sometimes.

I could have started one of those stream-of-consciousness sites where people write about whatever it is they’ve done over the weekend, with photos of a soap dispenser in a restaurant bathroom, or deep insights into their favorite Instagram memes.

But I didn’t, so here I am.

The reason I’m even getting blog-osophical is that I ended 2015 with blogger’s block. Cooking is still happening, and some of it has been fun and very successful (some less so) but it just doesn’t make it online. No photos (ok maybe a few), no testing, no tweaking.

Instead I’m going to round up some of my favorite recent recipes from the big sites like BBC Good Food (seriously the best) and fellow bloggers.

Here’s what I’ve been making lately:

Cod with Lemon and Tarragon (Nigel Slater)

I found this recipe in Eat, a Nigel Slater cookbook, but lots of his recipes are published in the Observer/Guardian. It’s really easy but looks and tastes much more complex. I got the best cod I could. It makes a difference.

Char Siu (Burp Appetit)

When it was time to release the pork belly from its freezer hibernation, I tried this. I had no idea char siu could be so easy at home! Next time, there will also be buns.

Vegan White Bean Chili (Bon Appetit)

Warm and full of winter veggies. I add a lot less water so it’s less like soup, and use canned beans instead of dried, because I am not organized enough to soak beans a day in advance.

Blueberry Crumble Traybake (Holy Crabness)

This one first came into play for a summer barbecue, back when blueberries were in season. Though mine weren’t nearly as pretty as Emma’s, they were gobbled up without any hesitation.

Apple Cider Doughnuts (NY Times)

There is no craving like a homeland craving, and I decided I wanted cider doughnuts. Keep in mind cider doesn’t even mean the same thing here as it does in the Northeast US, and I’d never made doughnuts before…

But doughnuts I got. Delicious, cidery, imperfect doughnuts. (Props to Brambletye Farms, who make an unfiltered apple juice that worked so well in this.)

Recently (but maybe not as recently as I’m willing to admit), it was Urban Food Fortnight, which celebrates the best of London’s local food scene of small producers. It’s a pretty cool way to meet and eat, and learn more about how big cities are no longer so far removed from our food supply as they used to be.

The Old Street Food Assembly celebrated with a tasting event, including local producers and growers who all sell through the Food Assembly.

If you have no idea what I’m talking about, let me explain. The FA (not the football one) is a concept that started in France, and lets you pre-order directly from small, local suppliers within 150 miles of the Assembly. Then, when the pick-up day comes, you turn up, meet the producers and take home the bounty.

So when my Food Assembly announced a Tuesday evening tasting, you know I’d be there. Several luscious snack servings later, and dinner didn’t seem like a necessity anymore.

Rich reds and oranges on crunchy peppers, sharp and herbal cheeses, funky new jam flavors, smoky cashew spread and punchy fruit drinks with cayenne … and that’s just a start. Such a great way to introduce producers and purchasers.

But really, I should let the food speak for itself.

You may have noticed, if you’ve here, that I like food. I like writing about it, reading about it, taking photos of it and even eating it.

One of the basics when it comes to being passionate about all this is understanding where the things that become food come from.

On a blog where I try to focus on relatively easy recipes with accessible ingredients, I don’t want to start preaching to everyone about how they should eat. I’m also the kind of person who wants to be sure of what I’m saying before I go on acting like I’m an expert in anything, and advocating for things I don’t understand.

But I’ve thought about this a lot, and I’ve done my homework. (There are some great resources out there for understanding what this all means on a grand scale.) You can do good things by thinking about how sustainable it is to grow something. Whether that something is cherries or chickens, it really is worth it, for the sake of being able to keep producing food, and to have land and water that can support its own ecosystems, among many other reasons.

To me, sustainability means a few things. It means that I try to eat organically for the environmental impact, seasonally and locally for the small business impact (and for the environment…), and with animal welfare in mind for the animals (and, well, the environment for this one, too).

I’m not perfect, by any means. I still really like avocados, even though they definitely don’t grow anywhere near England, and I don’t ask the people at the cheap-and-cheerful market stalls near my office where their meat comes from. But it doesn’t have to be all or nothing. There is nothing wrong with doing what you can afford, and thinking more carefully about what you consume and why.

Starting out

If you’re thinking about how you can #eatclean in the way it matters most, for sustainability and welfare, but not sure exactly where to begin – start small. The first food I made a serious commitment on was eggs. They’re affordable and versatile, and I learned quickly that moving up to higher welfare eggs wasn’t going to significantly change how much they cost, but makes a huge difference for the environment, the chickens, and the taste of my scrambled eggs.

Let’s travel together into the way-back machine, when I was first introduced to the happiest chickens I’ve ever met. Labor Day 2010, Catskills, NY. Handsome Brook Farms.

Our introduction came early. They crashed through the bushes and tried to follow us into the house, then joined us on walks through the fields. The hens of Handsome Brook spent time wherever they pleased; real ladies of leisure. With beautiful, glossy feathers and an active social life, I had truly never seen chickens who seemed so happy to be alive.

The chickens had run of the farm.

Then, we sampled the freshest eggs at breakfast, in French toast and on their own, and it was obvious how the freedom these chickens had to pick at insects, plants and whatever else they wanted to eat affected the quality of what showed up on our plates.

After that trip, I said no to battery cage eggs, and “free range” hens who have never seen the sun. It costs more but not a huge amount more, and I can just think about those chickens and understand why doing something, however small, is better than doing nothing.

So instead of skirting the issue, I am going to start addressing it in my posts. I can’t afford to make everything I eat the most local or sustainable, but when I can, I will. And if I can offer suggestions for people who want to do the same, then I will.

Eating sustainably

This is a luxurious and easy breakfast that showcases farm-fresh eggs, but still includes a guilty-ish pleasure ingredient, avocado. You can find organic, sustainable avocados, though it’s unlikely they’ll be local. This one came in our veg box from Riverford and was grown in Mexico.

Scrambled eggs with avocado and feta

Serves: 2

On the Counter

4 free-range organic eggs
4 tsp milk
1 avocado, sliced thinly, or into chunks
2 oz (55 g) feta cheese, crumbled
1/4 tsp (or a dash) of salt
1 tsp unsalted butter
2 slices of bread, your choice

You’ll need

wide/flat pan or skillet
whisk or fork
wooden spoon or rubber spatula

What to Do

Whisk the eggs, milk and salt together until well combined.

If you’re making toast, put the toast down now.

In a skillet, melt the butter over medium/low heat. Once it’s melted, swish it around the pan until it’s covered the bottom. Add in the egg mixture.

Immediately as it starts to set, push the eggs from the edge of the pan to the middle and keep doing so, making sure that you don’t get giant curds of egg. Once you don’t have any more liquid egg mixture, but they eggs are still a bit wet, you’re ready. It should only take 2-3 minutes until your eggs are finished.

Top the toast with avocado, then egg, then sprinkle on the feta cheese. Serve!

I’ve just come back from a week at home in the US, and it was great. For once, I didn’t plan every minute of the trip, and it was a revelation. We even got to drive to DC for an overnight!

Going home is always a mix of experiences – eating home comfort foods, seeing old, great friends, and trying not to get too caught up in nostalgia to the point where I refuse to try anything unfamiliar.

It’s easy to feel like you’re still a part of somewhere when you live far away from it, but turning up and realizing that everything you’re used to has changed can be a downer. Instead of focusing on the romance of the old, I’m trying to focus on the joys of the new.

On that note, here is one old favorite, and two new, from my time back on the US east coast.

The view from my old home, Jersey City, towards Manhattan. The skyline changes but the feeling stays the same.

Tasting flights are the best way to try beer, and this was from Forgotten Brewery in Cherry Hill, NJ. New fave!

A blueberry cheesecake “tart” from Ted’s Bulletin in DC, stuffed with preserves and cream cheese filling.

After a week of eating things like that amazing not-a-pop-tart, though, you can probably imagine where this is going.

Today’s recipe is pretty light, really easy to make and … delicious. (What did you expect me to say?) Versatile maybe? It’s that too, don’t worry.

Special guest: roasted red pepper

Recipe note: You can replace the steak with chicken, pork, halloumi or sea bass, but I think steak works especially well.

Serves 4

On the Counter

Sandwich
1 roasted red pepper, sliced*
250 g (1/2 lb) sirloin steak(s) or boneless skinless chicken
1 tbsp neutral, high smoke point oil like rapeseed or corn oil

50g feta
4 small tomatoes
1 cucumber, about 100 g (4 oz)
2 big handfuls of mixed salad leaves

4 whole grain pitas

Dressing
2 tbsp extra Virgin olive oil
1 tbsp cider vinegar
1 tsp dried oregano
1 tsp salt
1 tsp lemon juice
Remaining pepper juice

What to Do

Chop your tomato into cubes, peel, seed and slice the cucumber and combine it with the salad leaves and roasted pepper slices. Cube the feta (if it isn’t already), and set it aside.

In a cast iron grill pan (or just a plain cast iron pan), heat your neutral, high smoke point oil on high until it’s shimmering and smoking hot.

Dry your steak or chicken with paper towel, then it salt on both sides. Put it into the pan, and let it sit for a short time.

If it’s a steak, flip it over soon after, and you can flip it a few more times. There is no need to let it sit for long periods of time. A steak that’s 1.25 cm (1/2 inch) thick will take about 10 minutes to cook to medium, with an internal temperature of 60 C (140 F) in mind.

Chicken will take about 15 minutes to cook, and it has to be at least an internal temperature of 75 C (165 F).

As soon as the meat is done, turn off the heat. Slice your pita so you can stuff them, and put them onto the still-hot pan to toast and warm up. (Don’t forget to flip them!)

Combine all the dressing ingredients and whisk them together until emulsified (thick and cloudy looking). Toss it with the salad.

Slice up the steak or chicken, and stuff your pita!

* How to roast a pepper

Place your pepper on a metal baking tray. In the broiler (US), or on the grill setting (UK), roast the pepper until it’s black and blistered. It usually takes at least 5 minutes per side, but could take longer.

Once you’ve roasted the pepper, transfer it to a bowl and cover it with a kitchen towel. This will help loosen the skin by steaming it off, making it much easier to peel. Leave it for at least 5 minutes, until it’s cool enough to touch and peel.

Peel it, slice it and get rid of the seeds and stem.

A few bank holidays ago, (May 2, 2015, to be precise) the gent and I visited the Melton Mowbray Artisan Cheese Fair, with no idea what to expect. The things we knew were: it was on for 2 days, it was in May, and there would be cheese. How much of it, and how good it would be we decided to take a chance on.

Spoiler alert.

There was a lot of cheese, and it was very good. And there was gin. It was also very good.

Welcome to Melton Mowbray

First, a little about Melton Mowbray. It’s a small town that’s known for two very big foods in Britain, though if you’re reading this from Britain, you probably already knew that.

I have to confess that I’m not a big pork pie fan, generally… I’d never been convinced that they were worth eating. The examples I’ve had were always too fatty, with really dense, lardy crust and cold pork in the middle. Honestly, even the best pork pie is probably not going to convince me that any of those things aren’t true. However, when in Melton Mowbray… We split a stilton pork pie, and the sharp earthiness of blue cheese really helped balance the fattiness and richness of the pork/pastry combination.

The fair itself was interesting and busy, but not too over-crowded. It only cost £2 to enter, which is apparently twice the price of previous years, but well worth it.

The weather the day we visited was pretty terrible, so that might have scared a few people away. There is a lot of jostling and pushing forward for samples, which can be a bit trying when you want to sample something, talk to the producer or take a photo, which is why some of my photos ended up being at pretty weird angles.

If you got the opportunity to speak to them, most of the producers were friendly and keen to talk about their wares. Most of the people there really were small (or fairly small) providers that you wouldn’t necessarily find in your local supermarket, so it was nice to get insight into the joys of cheese making, gin distilling and making cheese-making kits.

There were around 75 different stalls across the cattle market and they included cider, bread, ice cream, wine, and cheese of course… there was no lack of great British products.

A soft, white unpasteurized cheese, and my favorite of the fair, from Chalke Valley Cheese.

Even after a train ride home, the Dorset White was perfect. Creamy, spreadable and so delicious.

Loosehanger had very dedicated cheesers manning their stall, and a lovely blue goat cheese.

Stichelton’s unpasteurized stilton definitely came home, too. Complex in flavor and so pretty to look at.

We ended up taking 6 cheeses home, and it took serious willpower to not buy more than that. There was the creamy Dorset White from Chalke Valley, a blue goat cheese called Nanny Williams from Loosehanger Cheese in Salisbury, a beautiful brie-styled cheese from Tunworth in Hampshire, a traditionally full flavored blue (yeah, there’s a theme) from Cote Hill in Lincolnshire, a deliciously strong, aged Red Leicester made by Leicestershire Handmade Cheese, and finally, a beautiful Stichelton, which is exactly a stilton, but made with unpasteurized milk.

There were also some very interesting talks on, most notably a history of Stilton cheese, from one of the UK’s big stilton producers. It was a great explanation of how the Midlands became a home base for many foods (as it was a natural stopping point for people traveling through the country), how much of an effect war rationing had on cheese production (immense) and what makes a stilton a stilton.

But I can’t wrap up this overview without talking about the two gin distilleries we tried, both of which were fantastic. Recently I’d had a bad run of picking gins without tasting them, but we were very confident about taking both of these home… after sampling them. Burleigh’s Gin has robust flavor and uses citrus and spices to great effect.

The second tried-and-loved distiller is called Da Mhile, from Wales. While there’s an interesting version with seaweed as a botanical, we stuck to the regular gin, which is made with mint. I was skeptical at first, but the mint isn’t overpowering at all, and adds an interesting fresh dimension to a g&t.

As a final note, it must be said that there was a great ukelele orchestra, playing hits from across the decades.

The Melstrum Ukulele Band got a lot out of their ukes.

if you find yourself with the opportunity to visit the Melton Mowbray Artisan Cheese Fair, I would recommend it, but only if you’re willing to wander around for a few hours, sampling cheese, alcohol and pies, and coming home loaded with goodies. You’ve been warned!

Does 2 years make something a tradition? I’m going to say it does. This year, the gentleman and I continued our tradition of having another couple over for a joint-effort Easter meal. We tend to eat and drink a fair amount, in the most relaxing and comfortable way.

This year we took a break for the Oxford/Cambridge Boat Race, which was happening about 10 minutes away, by the River Thames. I’m still surprised they held it on Easter Sunday, but I guess they have a tradition to uphold, too. We probably could have gotten there earlier, but settled for seeing the boats start and nearly-seeing the big screen.

Our Sunday meal (a lunch-dinner-late night snack hybrid of all day eating) was so much fun to make, and even more fun to eat. It was a combined effort from all 4 of us, as I think the best shared meals are.

We started with pesto palmiers…

and parmesan and roasted garlic ones, too. 

Plus, my favorite starter, herbed crepes with creme fraiche, cucumber and salmon.

And then, of course, the roasted lamb…

And for dessert: Meringues filled with lemon posset, home-whipped cream and fresh berries. A preview of spring on a plate. 

And finally… the late night snack. Caramel peanut butter popcorn.

Oh, but how could I forget? Spike the Belgian Chocolate Hedgehog.

I don’t take photos of everything I cook, especially if I think it isn’t going to be something worth sharing.

Sometimes, though, at the end of the meal I’ll be disappointed that I didn’t bother getting the camera out. This week, I had a pretty good run of camera time, so here are pics of a few things I made over the past week.

Some of these will hopefully be making it into the blog in upcoming weeks!

Eggs Florentine with Dairy-Free Hollandaise

Sirloin (Delmonico) Steak topped with Chimichurri Sauce, plus a Salad with Lemon Vinaigrette

Crispy Hash Browns with Truffles

Deep Dish Truffle and Goat Cheese Pizza

pizza base from the serious eats food lab

Chocolate Raspberry Cupcakes

from serious eats

Slightly-Spicy Tomato Sauce with Shrimp and Mushrooms

Sour Cream and Chive Biscuits

from spoon fork bacon

It was a busy week in the kitchen!

I can’t believe how much I let the holidays get the best of my posting schedule. It was a fantastic several weeks, including a trip back to New York for friends, family and of course… food, plus a trip to Edinburgh for the New Year celebrations.

Those two weeks were everything I could have asked for, and I even got a lightly dusted White Christmas! However, the one thing I didn’t do was cook a meal. It felt a bit weird, spending so much time out of the kitchen, though I’ll certainly be sharing some of my culinary inspirations in future recipes on here.

But, rather than share a recipe this week, I thought I’d start the year with a “how to” post. Hopefully this will help some people who want to learn to cook in 2013!

Once I learned this trick for chopping onions, I have never gone back. It makes the whole thing quick and easy, and even a bit fun! Hm… or maybe just fun for me.

I hope this tutorial will make your next (or first) onion-chopping experience a lot easier.

With a sharp knife (always!), chop the ends off your onion, and pull off the skin. 

Cut the onion in half. Your knife should be parallel to the flat ends of the onion.

Then, slice the halved onion in half again, but only 3/4 through. As you get more practice you can get closer to the edge without cutting through. (If you’re working with a small onion, you can skip this step.)

Remove the knife carefully and cut slices vertically into the onion.

Now, very gently turn the onion (or yourself) and cut perpendicular slices into the onion. 

And finally, you are left with a pile of chopped onion. Don’t forget about the other half!

Learning this skill made the arduous task of cutting onions much more bearable for me, and now I don’t actually mind chopping them. If only I had shortcuts for every other veggie I chopped, sliced and diced…