Fast and simple. (for TASTE magazine)
When my restaurant was cooking, I was the master of the 15-minute home dinner. I would return home from The Kitchen, the bizarre mix of perfume and food clinging to my clothes, to perform short order dinner for my family. Having the luxury of chopped onions and minced garlic for my day job, chopping an onion and peeling a clove of garlic at home was an act of devotion! Invariably, family dinner was a delicious but hasty affair. Children needed to finish homework. I needed to look at a big quote or go over balance sheets or conjure a wedding menu. There’d be leftovers from The Kitchen or a piece of fish, a schnitzel and always something green: baby spinach with flaxseed oil, some well-dressed leaves, peas, or broccoli tossed with lemon and garlic and then dilled carrots or boiled potatoes and very often sliced tomatoes and red onion.
My life has changed immeasurably in the last few months. My home-cooking style too. I cook with the leisure of time. I make Ukrainian parcels with different fillings. Hand-made noodles. Roulades. Dumplings. Soufflés. I roast. I bake. A lot. We eat out of our garden. I give proper consideration and full enthusiasm to each meal. Without a huge community to yield my energy to, my family have the full force of my know-how. It’s almost too much love! And with that, a little yearning for affirmation. Meal after meal, they seem appropriately speechless and even thankful! For all the acclaim that I have received in my life as a chef, this quiet acknowledgement means the world! I am saying, of course, “Do you see how much I love you?” I realise, with some remorse, the sacrifices that my family have made for my work life which was spent in physical energy and in thrall to a kitchen outside of home. There has been some cost. These prickles of regret have been vanquished in part by savage attention to slow(er) cooked, patient dishes that receive every gram of loving attention. Having come through a time of raw-ness, my creative energy blooms and artisanal work is delight and solace.
I suspect that many chefs have fridges that look like mine: packed with little labelled jars of interesting flavour in concentrated form: pickles, preserves, jams, relishes, mustards, pesto’s, sauces, pastes, achar, kimchi, gochujang, dressings and flavoured butters. These make up the devices to enliven, finish, zhuzh-up the simplest of meals. During lockdown, I have been thrilled to see the array of jars emerging from small producers. More flavour weapons for the arsenal! Home-cooks have honed their cooking skills. And now, with the time to pickle, preserve, and make pastes and dressings (or acquire them at good supermarkets or delivered market boxes), they are poised to create even more exciting meals!
As our new life emerges, we still need to pull together a snack, a little something for friends dropping around for a glass of wine, a simple meal that is not taxing. This is where these flavours/devices come out to play! The kimchi stirred through fried rice. The tempering (chhonk) topping a comforting dhal. The black garlic butter melting on steamed fish and the saffron aioli beside roast paprika chicken. It is in leveraging this arsenal of flavours, that your meal will feel like one that has benefited from hours of care.
Among some champions which have emerged from my kitchen during lockdown, I share with you my favourite: Sultana Caper Relish. I have yet to find a dish that does not want to be its friend! I have dolloped this relish on boiled eggs and courgettes, on salmon, cabbage, steak and cauliflower!
The delight of savouring something delicious reminds me that we can live beautifully and simply, harnessing our resources and being thankful for each bite.