This is not so much a recipe as it is a rough guide. Even as a sketch, the results are virtually guaranteed to be both tastier and less expensive than any you’d find on a shop’s shelf.

Use whatever combination of seeds, nuts and dried fruits strike you. This latest batch had sultanas and pumpkin seeds, but for the longest time my favourite was a simple combo of almonds and oats.

Beyond the goodness that is fresh-from-the-oven granola, the big secret here is salt. A nice flaky sea salt really makes things special. I put about 1 healthy teaspoon of salt for each cup of oats.

• 1 part white flour (optional, but helps make nice clumps)
• 2 part rolled oats
• 1-2 parts goodies – nuts, seeds, dried fruits, whatever
• (Flaky sea) salt to taste
• enough honey or maple syrup to lightly coat everything
• enough oil (extra virgin) or fat (butter) to lightly coat everything

1. Pre-heat the oven to 170C / 325F
2. In a large bowl, mix together the dry ingredients. Leave out anything you don’t want to brown in the oven, like coconut or some dried fruits. Add those for the last few minutes of toasting action – or just stir them in afterwards.
3. Drizzle the wet ingredients over the dry ones and mix well.
4. Pour out the mix onto a large baking sheet and spread evenly.
5. Bake, turning them every 5 minutes of so, until the oats turn a golden brown. They might feel a little wet to the touch, but they’ll crisp up in the air.

Toasted to Volcano Choir – Unmap

Masoor dal (daal, dahl, whatever) is such an altruistic dish. It asks so very little of you, but gives so very much in return. So this variant asks that you have some spices at hand, fine, but even if you made it using only red lentils and broth, you’d still end up with something extremely edible. The prep work is done in mere minutes, the rest of your time is spent waiting patiently for things to thicken up.

There are infinite variants of the mighty masoor dal. This just happens to be the one we made last night. Experiment. It’s very difficult to ruin.

• 1 cup red lentils
• 4 cups light vegetable broth
• 1.5 teaspoons cumin seed
• 1 teaspoon mustard seed
• 1 clove garlic, smashed
• 2 cm piece of ginger, halved
• 1/4 teaspoon of chile powder or to taste
• 1 bay leaf
• 1 tablespoon of fat: oil, ghee, butter, whathaveyou
• salt to taste

1. Rinse the dal with a few charges of cold water and set aside.
2. In a medium saucepan, heat the oil over a medium-high flame. When the oil’s nearly smoking add the garlic, cumin and mustard seeds. The cumin seed should pop on impact. Keep this moving for about a minute, careful not to let the cumin seed burn.
3. Add the rest of the ingredients to the pan and bring it to a simmer.
4. Cook over low heat for about 45 minutes, or until it’s at a consistency you’re more than happy to eat. Stir occasionally. The water tends to separate from the lentils and you could get in a bad way if you’re not mindful.
5. Serve over a nice basmati rice, like Majula’s wonderful zucchini rice.

Dal making music: Mount Eerie – Wind’s Poem.

For the past few months we’ve been devouring a lot more salads than we usually do. It’s mostly this dressing’s fault. So quick (seconds) and delicious (very). Particularly good when coating strong leaves, like rocket.

• About 1 tablespoon tahini
• Juice of 1/2 a lemon or lime
• Enough water
• 1/2 garlic clove, crushed to smithereens
• Salt, pepper, and herbs to taste

1. Add the tahini and citrus juice to a small bowl. Whisk them together until things get all pasty.
2. Slowly add water about 1 tablespoon at a time, mixing as you go. You want it to pour easily, but not become watery. If things get too damp, add a tiny bit of tahini to the mix. A little tahini goes a long way.
3. Mix in the garlic, seasoning, and herbs to taste.
4. C’est tout!

Dressed with Atlas Sound – Logos.

For whatever reason, I’ve settled on 30 as the magical number of minutes I want to spend cooking most weeknights. 30 minutes from cutting board to plate feels just long enough to prepare something “cooked”, but it’s not so long that the the whole evening simmers away to nothing but the burnt bits.

Frittatas tick not only the 30 minute checkbox, but also the “crap, that produce is about to turn – better make something pronto” box. Presenting a fine Frankenstein of a frittata that came out of one such evening: the asparagus, tomato, stilton, and marscapone frittata!

• 5 large eggs
• 1 tablespoon marscapone
• 1/2 medium onion, diced
• a small bunch of asparagus, trimmed
• a few small tomatoes, quartered
• a few ounces of stilton or similarly stinky cheese
• a pinch of garlic granules
• salt and pepper to taste

1. Pre-heat the oven to 200C, 400F.
2. Par-cook the asparagus in a steamer for a few minutes. You’ll want to vary this depending on the girth of your little green wonders – skinny ones will only need 1-2 minutes. They’ll still have quite a crunch to them. Shock the asparagus in some icy water. Dry them on a towel and set aside.
3. In a large bowl, whisk together the eggs, marscapone, and garlic granules. Season to taste. The marscapone shouldn’t completely emulsify. Deep breath: move on.
4. Heat some olive oil in an oven-friendly pan. Add the onions and dash of salt. Sautee the onions until they’re translucent.
5. Add the egg mixture to the pan. Arrange the asparagus, tomatoes, and crumbled stilton into something pleasant to look at. Once the bottom of the egg mixture starts to set, transfer the pan from the heat of the stove to the heat of the oven. It doesn’t take long for the magic to start happening. The frittata will start to rise and then brown. It should only take 5 minutes or so, but it’ll depend on the size of your pan, so keep an eye and nose out.

Sure, it’s fantastic straight out of the oven, but it’s also tasty anywhere between piping hot and room temperature. A friendly suggestion: serve it with a salad of greens and apples (which work tiny miracles with the stilton).

Whisked to School of Seven Bells – Alpinisms

After a few stops and starts, winter has finally made itself at home here in London. Time to accept culinary fate and bury yourself in tubers and canned veg. Time for stews, casseroles, and all things spicy. Time for chili.

So sure, it’s always time for chili, but in winter the dish takes on a whole new life and becomes a weekly staple. I started documenting my chili attempts about a year ago, and I’ve settled on a foundation that I’m really happy with. It’s easily extensible, like any good piece of recipe software, and not too fussy. There’s nothing technically complicated here – just a bunch of ingredients. It’s all timing and patience.

This chili serves 2 comfortably, but why not make a double batch and enjoy the miracle of leftovers. Leftover chili is one of the wonders of the culinary world, only improving in flavor on the second day. You could be really crafty and make this potion the night before.

For roux:
• 2 tablespoons vegetable oil
• 2 tablespoons white flour

For chili:

• 1 medium onion, finely diced
• 3 cloves of garlic, minced
• 1 teaspoon chile powder
• 1 teaspoon paprika
• 1 teaspoon cumin
• 1 can whole plum tomatoes
• 2 teaspoons dried oregano
• 4 cups vegetable broth
• 1/2 cup tasty red wine
• 2 teaspoons mole paste
• 1 tablespoon honey
• 2 cups cooked kidney beans, preferably home-cooked
• 2 cups cooked chick peas, preferable home-cooked
• Salt, pepper to taste

1. Make the roux, foo’. In a small saucepan, add the oil and flour over low heat. Whisk continually for for 5-10 minutes until you have a nice, golden brown, heavenly smelling roux. It’ll turn from brown to black very quickly – so be careful. Take the roux off the heat and set it aside. You won’t need it again for a few hours. If you want to skip this step all together, fine. You can always add some corn starch, arrowroot or flour at the end. The roux just adds this really wonderful nutty richness to the whole affair.
2. In a large saucepan, heat up a bit of oil over medium-high heat and add the onion. Keep the onion going for about 10 minutes until it starts to caramelize. Add the garlic and move things around until the garlic is blond – it should just take a minutes or two.
3. Add all of the spices, except the oregano, to the pan and sauté for a few seconds.
4. Add the canned tomatoes and crush them almost to oblivion – I like to leave a few chunks. Some chili traditionalist snobs eschew tomatoes entirely, but I really love the depth (and umami) they add – especially in the absence of any meat.
5. Add the oregano, broth, wine, honey, and mole paste. If you don’t have mole paste, that’s OK. Just skip it. You’ll miss some of the bitterness and sweetness it imparts, but you’ll only have yourself to blame.
6. Don’t forget to season at this point, but this amazing concoction is going to cook down for a few hours, so don’t add too much salt yet.
7. Now for some patience. Turn the heat down to low and get the hell out of the kitchen, returning occasionally give things a good stir and taste. My favorite version of this chili simmers away for about 4 hours. If you don’t have a ton of time, cut the amount of liquid by half. But there’s not a lot of effort involved at this point. Just restraint.
8. Once things have stewed for a bit – usually about 1 and a half to 2 hours – add the beans. Taste again and adjust for seasoning. Continue cooking for a while. Feel free to get substitute happy – this chili works with pretty much any bean in any quantity.
9. The consistency of the chili will start to change – you want it to be pretty thick, but the roux will add additional thickness. About 20 minutes before the chili’s done, stir in the roux.
10. Take the chili off the heat and let it rest for 10 minutes or so before serving. You could eat it all in one sitting, and that would be great. But this devilish brew only gets better as it sits overnight.

For some extra starch action, we sometimes serve this chili over rice or better yet some of Nat’s cornbread. I like mine garnished with some cheddar, or if I’m in a mood, some fresh coriander and a bit of diced onion.

Stewed to Jonny Greenwood – Bodysong