Italian Inspiration: Blue cheese, walnut and pear pizza

The reason I haven’t been posting lots is because I’ve been too busy enjoying an amazing summer! This summer was the first time I went on holiday with friends, and was off frolicking around Europe – the culinary capitals of Paris and Florence, none the less. The focus of this post is therefore Italy, and my attempt at recreating the orgasmic experience of a blue cheese, walnut and pear pizza I encountered there.

But first; Italian food porn. I most graciously invite you to swoon over snaps of carbonara with truffle oil, fresh tomato pasta, glorious mountains of gelato and my fit friends below.

I think I must have tried about 20 flavours of late night gelato alone – coconut, creme brûlée, cookies, chocolate, mango, blackberry, raspberry, hazelnut, pistachio, panna cotta – okay, I know that’s only ten, but since it was a while ago my memory fails me. Our favourite place for a meal out was Zaza or in the Santo Spirito, and the best gelato was situated on the Ponte Vecchio, since us two girls got extra wafers (wink, wink). The solitary guy in the group was not as lucky. I shall say no more. At least he has the advantage of knowing how to eat a top-heavy and melting pile of ice-cream off a cone without getting it on his fingers, down his wrist (no, arm)…and into his handbag.

Yet alas, alack, my friends, I repeat once again – Italy was a while ago. And so after getting back into the everyday pattern of an office job, I decided to take one more day off a couple of weeks later to finally unpack, tidy my room, upload my photos, write a cheeky bit of blog and rustle up something nutritious for my Dad for lunch – as well as to satisfy my own painful cravings to taste Italy once again.

Above is the blue cheese, walnut and pear pizza I tried in Italy. You can see that it is made of white flour with a flatbread quality. Below is the wholemeal version I adapted, with the seriously juicy red william pears. I actually made two pizzas, but my Dad and I could only manage one between us. Although, having said that, he dove straight into the double chocolate digestives afterwards. Nevertheless: hooray for leftovers!

I just am head over heels in love with the classic combination of pears, stilton and walnut given a great twist on a pizza base. My dad’s feedback was that given the strength of the cheese, a wholemeal base stood up better than a plain one to combat the feisty flavours.

In case you want to try this concoction of utter seductive scrumptiousness for yourself (and I promise you you will), my creations were based on adapting the recipes below:

• Wholemeal pizza dough for two pizzas – you can also freeze one for a quick dinner later on in the week!
• Blue cheese, walnut and pear pizza

I used dried rosemary, powdered Colman’s mustard and Duchy wholemeal plain flour (and that’s posh nosh). Don’t stress yourself about cutting the pears perfectly thin as in the photos, because they shrivel a bit in the oven anyway Can’t wait to try and create another holiday-inspired dish! I think what I’ve realised is that it’s good to push yourself out of your cooking comfort zone, even if you’re not sure that the finished product will be quite like the original. It doesn’t matter, and it’s a great way to share a food experience I had hundreds of miles away with a loved one closer to home. With Google, all is possible. (Dad and I are the token blue-cheese lovers in the family. My first encounter with this long term obsession was at a New Years Eve Party as a child, where I ate so much blue cheese stuffed into raspberries I made myself sick. It seems I developed a willingness to experiment with food from an early age).

The best fish roll in the world, Hastings

The best fish roll ever? A brave statement to start with, I am aware. However, with the view that I am not usually and have never been a strong advocate of our fishy friends (I strongly suspect this stemmed from watching my friend’s brother eat a worm in front of me in primary school, they look like prawns okay), I would humbly suggest you sit up and listen.

The weekend arrived, bringing with it a welcome binge. Saturday night my best friend and I proved you could do Yo! Sushi for a fiver each – sharing a plate of sashimi and then a bowl of miso soup each (free refills am I right?!) However, the disastrous trip back home, in which we caught the wrong bus, the right bus, then got off at the wrong station, was saved by none other than Krispy Kreme. Who would say no to a box of twelve for just £2 extra? No one sane, I can assure you.

Thus Sunday morning breakfast brought with it a sugar rush, and after pigging on doughnuts my mum, brother and I hopped in the car with flasks of black coffee and spent an hour singing James Morrison (or maybe that was just me) as we sped down the motorway, destination: Hastings.

More specifically, the three of us wanted to visit the Jerwood Gallery’s current Summer exhibition of drawings. I didn’t take any photos of the actual exhibition, since the gallery website is pretty strict on no photos in the gallery and I didn’t fancy a mess with the law.

Then it was off to a late lunch at the gallery restaurant, Webbe’s. Webbe’s offers traditional, relaxed dining with a classy twist. I loved the minimalist interior with the bare bulbs and pops of primary colour. We started by sitting on the breezy balcony outside, but when the wind picked up a little we took this as our cue to shuffle indoors.

On to what we ate! We shared a late lunch of brown and white crab sandwiches, hand cut chips and sweet potato and chickpea cakes with curry oil, tomato relish and mint yogurt. Mum thought the filling for the sandwiches was a bit on the neat side, considering the price, but enjoyed the chunky chips. The shallow frying created a light, melt-in-your mouth experience. I thought the chickpea cakes were very tasty as well. These were made very smooth and palatable with the subtle salsa and simple dressing. Perhaps it comes down to having faced my fears a week ago when getting needles shoved through my earlobes, but I took my first, adventurous bite of crab today. A bit of a strong flavour – not sure what to think yet.

For dessert we shared plum and pear tarts. The pear tart looked good with the surprise dollop of jam hiding in the middle, but I opted for the slither of pastry and the sharp, tangy plum. To be honest, it didn’t do much for me, but the simplicity of the ingredients combined with a lack of sweetness served to fill an emotional (as opposed to a physical) pudding-hole.

 

Not quite sure if we were full or not, we emerged back outside into fabulous sunshine. The storms that had been forecast seemed to have passed and so we walked back to where we had parked the car on the beach, nosing in at the eclectic clusters of huts selling fresh fish on the way. One in particular, from the earlier walk, caught the attention of many passers by. A couple (Tush and Pat, I presume) were frying fish on a giant paella pan, cosily tucked away beneath colourful umbrellas in the shade of a giant, upturned boat.

Swept up by the communal enthusiasm, we happily parted with a modest £2.50 for a fish roll. On the side table were a variety of sauces for you to pimp your roll. I was adamant we kept it classic so mum decked that baby in lemon juice and a dollop of ketchup. 

Oh. My. Cod. As much as Webbe’s was fun, I wish we had just gone here. Those who carefully examine the blow-by-blow photographic compilation below, capturing Matthew’s experience of said roll, may deduce my brother probably felt the same. Then we could have had one each. 

Very often the best things in life are the most simple. They don’t have to try to do anything fancy or special to impress you, because they’re just plain good on their own. Take the humble ingredients of fresh, shallow fried plaice (2 generous pieces) in a soft wholemeal roll. Or rather, take my word for it that two fresh, shallow fried plaice chillin’ a roll is the epitome of this principle. Tush & Pat don’t need to sell anything else at their stall, because they have already got a good thing going. In an age where we are constantly bombarded with unlimited choices, sometimes it can be refreshing to not have to think any more beyond “brown bread, please.”

I also watched Jamie’s Fish Suppers (explore Channel 4 fish recipes here) that night. So altogether it was a very fishy end to a lovely fishy day.

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• To visit the Jerwood Gallery website, click here
• To view the Webbe’s menu, click here
• Feeling peckish? Jamie Oliver has his own recipe for a bangin’ fish bap, which my dad has test-run and which you can see here

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WANT: THE CUTEST GIFT IN THE JERWOOD GALLERY SHOP

Send beautiful notes alongside a fishy recipe with these hand illustrated cards

Ways with Noodles, Hong Kong

Noodle cake. Yes, you heard me. Forget ramen, stir-fry, or glass noodles in peking pancakes. (Well, don’t forget them all together, because they are all great ways to eat your noodles).

Noodle cake is one of those dishes I wish I could explain the simple joys of to my friends. Few get as enthused as I do, however. The last time I had noodle cake was sadly just coming to a year ago – I had finished A Levels, and so off to Hong Kong I went, to dutifully fulfil the work experience I promised UCAS I would.

Who wouldn’t enjoy getting some work experience under their belt and then having the opportunity to blow that hard-earned dough on fake Mulberry in Monkok Market? The dress that features in the photos below was another market purchase from previously in the day, where two adorable old women ironed the creases out of it and let me reappear from the shop as a cleaner, crisper woman. Nevertheless, although shopping heaven, Hong Kong to me is really all about food.

The restaurant my lovely Chinese fam chose to frequent was Chiu Chow Garden, standard posh dining spot with glittering chandeliers, and a huge round table complete with lazy susan (that spiny wheel that means you don’t really have to move to get to the dishes you want. Quick). As per usual we waited for the food to arrive before taking the first photo of the ‘whole’ family together in years, standing professionally and smiling behind a laden table that screamed “Look at how much we like good food!” “Look at how we like sharing said good food!” An empty table in restaurant-themed photograph raises serious questions.

As a half-savoury, half-sweet concoction, the noodle cake featured between courses. After the half-pudding we ordered yet more pudding, although we were all full…but we did, because we could. (When I say ‘we’ I mean my very kind Uncle).

Mmmm. Super crispy on the outside, soft and chewy on the inside (is ‘noodley’ a word?) Sprinkle it with a generous teaspoon of white sugar and a glug of malt vinegar and you get a match made in caramelised heaven. I like to think of noodle cake as the yin to the yang of the simple yet delicious crepe with lemon juice and sugar. But it’s better, because it arguably twists the boundaries between savoury and sweet further. The vinagar gives it a nice kick, so it’s kind of like the crepe’s older, rebelious brother. And we all know how I like those bad boys.

Anyway, back to the restaraunt. Washing that noodle cake down with shots of very strong oolong tea and I was up all night. Dreaming of how I would recreate that noodley thang upon my eventual return to England.

So, here they are. Mumma Cooper’s tips (my mother, I mean, I haven’t afforded myself a new nickname here) for frying those noodles. Please be aware I don’t pretend to know the inns and outs of the very complex art of Chinese cooking, however, I only seek to share the simple things I have learnt of my own mum, which she in turn observed from religiously watching her maid feed a family of 10 (10? 9? I can’t keep track, sorry mum).

THE BEST STIR-FRY EVER

1. Work out which vegetables are the ‘hardest’

In order to get your stir-fry to boast crunchy veg (which I personally prefer), work out which veggies are the hardest. Examples of hard vegetables include broccoli and carrots, whilst softer vegetables a watery ones like bak choi and bean sprouts. The hardest veggies cook longer and so you can toss them in at the beginning, once you’ve oiled the wok. The softer veggies will go soggy if also added at this stage, so save tossing them in until the end, where it only takes a minute or two for them to cook to the perfect consistency.

2. Wash AND RINSE those noodles!

Come on people, don’t be lazy. The straight-to-wok noodles you get in the supermarket aren’t as good, and preparing fresher, better ones couldn’t be more easy. This type usually requires soaking (see packet for details), but make sure you also rinse them in cold water right before you fry up. Otherwise those lovely vermicelli in your Shanghai creation are going to procure a sticky texture.

3. Perfect the base

A little oil, a sauce of your choosing, chopped garlic and a dash of dry spice all go in to the pan to start the flavour party – experiment with the flavours you love.

As for the adventurous ones out there…

TIME FOR NOODLE CAKE

1. Don’t be greedy

Your eyes are always bigger than your belly – if you’re cooking for a bigger bunch of people, cancel the invites. A best noodle cakes tend to be the smallest.

2. Prep your noodles as above

Do exactly the same with washing and rinsing as you would in a stir-fry, but this time using a specific type – thin, egg-noodles work the best.

3. Use a small pan

Same as before, smaller is better.

4. Turn up the heat

Cook that baby hot and quick.

5. Don’t overdo the oil

My mum wasn’t so clear with her guidance here, so I may update this when I have the chance to cook one again with her. You need to swill enough oil in your pan so that when you dump the rinsed noodles in and press them down with a spatula “like a pizza,” they will crisp up. However, you don’t want to use a ridiculous amount and end up with a “greasy soggy grease cake.”

6. Halfway through, turn over with two spatulas

This is the part that requires a bit more skill. Bet you are wishing you had listened to me earlier when I told you to make a small one, aren’t you?

7. Enjoy!

Serve cut into pizza shaped slices with sugar (my mum uses raw brown cane sugar) and malt vinegar on top. Alternatively, make a small noodle cake with a portion of your regular veggie stir-fry and crush the crunchy bits on top when you serve, for a bit of pizazz!

I hope this post on my second-favourite carb has been able to enlighten a few of you.

– Alissa xo

My milkshake brings all the students having essay breakdowns to the yard

The greatest discovery of this term at Durham is without a doubt Split & Glory Ice Cream Parlour, situated above Chapter’s Tea Rooms on Elvet Bridge. Yes, okay, I lied. This post isn’t just about milkshake.

As soon as I stepped into the cute little room and heard a vintage jukebox playing Grease my heart was filled with love and joy. And before I even had the opportunity to take a slurp of milkshake or spoonful of sundae my soul was sold to the sugar devil – that was the moment my eyes caught sight of the giant menu of epicness looming above me.

It’s not a confession because I feel no shame in my gluttonous actions, only happiness: I returned to Split & Glory in less than a week.

The first time I went with the girls we all had milkshakes, the second time we stepped it up a gear with sundaes (although the most expensive milkshake costs around £5, whilst the most expensive sundae is priced under £4). I was expecting the parlour to be really busy but it wasn’t which was nice. My first visit was kept light with an ice cream float (around £2) – a true visionary of my own accord, I paired mango ice-cream with lemon and lime soda (though watch out, because Marieke revisited and was refused this request for some unfortunate reason). Meanwhile, Harry and Lucy tried an extravagant concoction of chocolate ice-cream and oreo milkshake, decked out with whipped cream, smarties and a flake.

You can see why my modest choice tempted an eager return.

The sundaes were a great shout because they allowed us to mix things up a bit – for example, Lydia chose a sundae option (with brownie topping which apparently was wonderfully gooey) where she asked for the vanilla ice-cream to be replaced with cookie dough. Becca had the peanut brittle sundae whilst I opted for ‘The American Dream’ (replacing all the ice-cream choices with my own suggestions, of course). The combination of peanut, cinder toffee and cookie dough ice-cream topped with marshmallow fluff, whipped cream and oreo was to die for. Literally to die for. It made me want to consume all the sundaes in the world which ultimately would clog up my arteries. However, at least I would die knowing what true happiness is.

The ice-cream flavours are impressive – bubblegum, banana, popcorn, peanut and pistachio are not options you see everywhere. They’re also looking for jobs now which is all too tempting. Maybe when you go (because I order you to go) you might see me there – remember to bring cash if you do, because we don’t take cards.