Surprising resolve

I'm not much of a new year person and don't really go in for resolutions, but this year I decided to set myself a task that seemed manageable, and it started at the turn of the year, so I can count myself amongst the lucky smug few who have reached mid-March with tested but hearty resolve. Actually, I set myself two resolutions, but the decision to dance at least a little bit every day doesn't have so much relevance to a cookery blog. What's up for a mention here is the idea to try a new recipe every week. It's not ground-breaking, but it's one way to get me working my way further through my cookbook/bookmarked recipe collection. I'm including new variations on old recipes - if it helps me experiment with my cooking then it can't be a bad thing.

It began well with a French treat (and a treat for a couple of French friends) of a galette des rois for Epiphany - though it turns out that Clotilde Dusoulier's addition of orange flower water was a (pleasant) surprise. (If you haven't visited Chocolate and Zucchini before, I would heartily recommend it.) January also meant Seville oranges; these were worked into this yoghurt cake recipe to give a St Clement's Cake of sorts (orange zest and a little juice in the batter, lemon curd mixed with orange juice used to fill the split cake). Lovely pink rhubarb and a recollection of a rhubarb and cornmeal cake in a Nigella book led to some delicious rhubarb cornmeal muffins - a tweaking of a couple of Susan Reimer recipes (cornbread and peach/rhubarb) to appetising effect. I can also recommend Dan Lepard's malt whisky ginger cake - though I'd be careful of inviting people round whilst it's cooking as it has quite an alcoholic whiff to it. Most of the new things I've made have been savoury, quite a lot of it simple new ways with vegetables - Jane Grigson's Vegetable book and Nigel Slater's Tender: volume I are great sources of inspiration. Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall's Turkish bulgur and red lentil soup was very tasty - a bit of nostalgia for childhood moussaka that I think was evoked by the dried mint in melted butter.

So, the recipe-a-week plan is working. Now to sort out my photography...

Insert Greek pun here

In times of uncertainty, cook what you know - and in large quantities. Here (finally?) is a savoury recipe, originally from the Guardian, but tweaked a little to make it more like the dish I remember.

(The pictured jar contains rigani - Greek oregano. There are several different varieties of oregano out there, but most of the dried stuff you can buy in the UK is authentically - interchangeably - Greek or Italian. Honest.)

Fasolia gigantes

250g butter beans (big ones, ideally) - or 2 tins
Olive oil
1 large onion, finely chopped
1 carrot, finely chopped
1 stick of celery, finely chopped
2 tins of tomatoes
1 or 2 clove(s) garlic, crushed
2 tsp dried oregano
Salt and pepper

Soak the beans in a large pot of cold water overnight. Next day, drain the beans. Bring a big pot of water to the boil, add the drained beans and boil for 30-40 minutes, until they are well cooked but not mushy. Drain. (Or you can use tinned beans - I usually do.)

Preheat the oven to 170C (GM 3).
Heat some oil in a casserole. Add the onion, carrot and celery and fry gently until softened. Add the garlic, oregano, tomatoes, salt, and pepper. Mix in the beans, drizzle with oil (this is an important step - don't skip it), and bake for 30-40 minutes.

These are apparently good with sausages or lamb - alongside something barbecued works particularly well. I serve them with a green salad dressed with oil, lemon juice, and a little salt (or, in the winter, horta, dressed in the same way); tzatziki (crush a clove of garlic and mix with a little oil; beat in some yoghurt; stir in some grated, kitchen-towel-dried cucumber and chopped dill/mint); tyrokafteri (mix a crushed clove of garlic and some chopped fresh/dried chilli with some oil; mash in a pack of feta and a chopped, skinned, grilled pepper); and pitta bread. It's easy to stretch further, too, with olives and dolmades alongside, and perhaps also spanakopita, or something like - see what strikes your fancy.

Cake for a miserable afternoon

It's been a rough couple of weeks, but I received a timely reminder that baking can be a source of comfort beyond the consumption of its products. With that in mind, here is a long-loved recipe for what is probably my favourite comfort-food cake - though I'm always in danger of eating far more of it than is comfortable. The recipe comes from Sarah Brown's Vegetarian Kitchen (a book that's much less worthy - in the lentils, bean sprouts and sandals sense - than it first appears).

Cinnamon and Carrot Cake

1/2 lb (225g) plain wholemeal flour
1 tablespoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon nutmeg
1/2 tablespoon baking powder
4 oz (110g) butter
4 oz (110g) honey
4 oz (110g) sugar
1/2lb (225g) carrots, peeled and finely grated

Pre-heat oven to GM3 (170C/325F).
In a large bowl, mix together all the dry ingredients. In a saucepan, melt together the butter, honey and sugar, then stir this mixture into the dry ingredients. Stir in the carrots. Put the mixture into a well greased bread 1lb bread tin (though I usually use a 2lb tin - makes the cake go further and you get more of the crunchy top) and bake for 60-80 minutes until firm to the touch. Leave the cake in the tin for 10 minutes and then turn it out onto a cooling rack.