A recipe for cornbread

It's probably not something one makes terribly often, but cornbread is terribly easy and an incredibly useful thing to have hanging around once you've finished devouring warm slices of it with the BBQ rabbit as below or spare ribs.

1 tbsp caster sugar

150g cornmeal (you'll most probably find it as polenta)

250g plain flour

3 tsp baking powder

1 tsp bicarbonate of soda

1 tsp salt

50g softened butter

A handful spring onions, finely chopped

2 eggs, beaten

150g yoghurt

300ml milk

I use a standard loaf tin which I grease and line with greaseproof paper, for extra non-stick.

Preheat the oven to 160C.

Then put all the dry ingredients into a large bowl, add the butter and spring onions and stir together. Whisk together the eggs, yoghurt and milk and add to the dry ingredients and stir until combined. Spoon into the loaf tin.

Bake on a baking sheet for 45-60 minutes until golden and risen. The timing is a little imprecise but you just have to keep testing with a skewer and seeing if it comes out clean. Leave to cool slightly in the tin, then turn out onto a wire rack and leave to cool completely.

You can also add loads of different ingredients: grated cheese, chopped chillies, herbs... It's whatever you want it to be.

A Bonus Recipe for Leftovers:

The picture doesn't really convey the sunshine beaming out of the breakfast dish above, but take my word for it, it can make you very happy indeed. I happened to have some leftover rhubarb poached in orange juice and honey from the day before, which I reheated and added in some chopped fresh pineapple sauteed in a little butter. I warmed the cornbread in the oven - it's too fragile to toast - and then spooned over the hot fruit. I topped it with a little Greek yoghurt and a sprinkling of cinnamon.

Stuffed Vine Leaves Saved My Life

We love a new cookbook in the bookshop (and get your signed copy here too), although I am the first to howl with outrage at yet another seasonal/local/chef-driven tome. Last week saw the arrival of Nadia Sawalha's first cookbook. Stuffed Vine Leaves Saved My Life - a whimisical, family-oriented meander through the Middle Eastern recipes that formed the culinary backdrop to her childhood.

Dotted with family pictures and suffused with a deep warmth that puts you right into the heart of her extended family, Nadia's recipes range from the traditional to Cheese, coleslaw and crisp sandwiches - whatever takes your fancy.

I've tried a couple so far and loved them. Mussakhan - roasted chicken on a bed of sumac-infused onions and bread - is fabulous with a minty cucumber yoghurt dip and my new breakfast for summer is a take on Zait wa Zaatar, Nadia's father's recipe.

Zait wa Zaatar means Oil with Herbs. You make Zaatar, which you can either buy in any Middle Eastern store or combine dried thyme and marjoram with sumac and toasted sesame seeds. Nadia's recipe then follows her father's precise instructions for the compiling of the ingredients of the breakfast, which include pitta bread, Greek yoghurt (Rachel's is best) or labneh, honey, olive oil and pitta bread.

This morning, in possession of some ripe figs and a loaf of ciabatta (oh the agony of fusion) I put an homage together. One one side of a white plate, put a spoonful of yoghurt and then one on the other side. In between arrange a couple of figs, quartered and roseate. Over one pile of yoghurt drizzle a little honey. In a little dish (for I lacked Zaatar) mix together some extra virgin olive oil, sumac and dried oregano (delicious, although not Zaatar). Bake the ciabatta in the oven until hot and crisp, then serve up with the figs, yoghurt and oil and a pot of sweetened mint tea on the side.

Three great breakfasts

I can't decide which of these is the current favourite so I'm having them in rotation whilst also fitting in the odd bowl of muesli to keep my suddenly wayward IBS under control.

Breakfast idea no 1: A variation on the smoked mackerel theme, this time i mix together chopped tomatoes, avocado and smoked mackerel then souse the lot in lime juice and a good few shakes of smoked chipotle Tabasco. Pile onto lightly toasted sourdough.

Breakfast idea no 2: A slice of thick-cut honey-roast (or your choice) ham with a few sliced of halloumi, fried until patchily golden and dressed with a little lemon juice and a handful of lightly fried tomatoes.

Breakfast idea no 3: Bacon and sliced fresh tomato on toasted muffins. I had quite forgotted how delicious these are. Also excellent with sausages. Which in turn reminds me I had plans to make Nigella's Welsh Rarebit muffins to accompany sausages one weekend - I shall let you know.

You can quite see how time can get away from one when there are decisions such as these to be made...

Recipe ideas to occupy the fridge-loving unemployed

Now that I find myself temporarily unemployed and home-bound, my main problem is staying out of the fridge. With time on my hands and constant flavour combinations suggesting themselves to me in my head, I find myself heading fridge-wards a little too often. The fridge and I - as my family will corroborate - have a long and symbiotic relationship; it's not so much that I pick out something to eat each time I pass by, but I find myself quite often opening the door just to check what's in there and spend a few minutes musing on what to have for the next meal, or the one after that, or even tomorrow. I spend a lot of time communing with my fridge. But it's also a tic of boredom and that way, as musings transpire into ever-more complex meal creations, fully-inflated dinghy-shape lies.

So what to do? I have found the best way to retain even a modicum of slenderness (I'm 5ft so really I do need to watch it) is a good 20 mins of walking a day, easily accomplished in my old life by walking to the station every morning and watching the carbs (not obsessively and madly, but being aware of my intake). Now there's no need to march to the station every morning and I don't think clocking up the yards to the kitchen is really any substitute.

For inspiration I dug out India & Nerys' Idiot-Proof recipe book which - co-written as it is with food writer Bee Rawlinson - is full of really good recipe ideas that are filling and interesting without containing carbohydrates. My main problem is breakfast. I love my muesli with yoghurt, but after 5 mornings a week it starts to pall and I find myself craving croissants, sausage sandwiches and bacon rolls - all of which are delicious, but not good on a daily basis. With a little more time on my hands, I can get a bit more creative and save the fry-ups for the weekend where they belong.

Idea no.1: Bearing in mind my recent lizard/piglet-ness and the fact that the weather seems to be sharpening its claws, I'm upping my good fat intake, This morning, I fried 2 strips of streaky bacon and a chopped tomato in a little olive oil. I then halved an avocado and spooned the tomato and bacon into the well and topped with a little Gorgonzola. It went into the oven for a few minutes to soften the cheese and breakfast was done. Tomorrow morning, I shall do something similar but without the bacon.

(BTW - for all of you remarking on the fat content - cheese, bacon, oil - I followed India and Nerys' diet a few years back when I was getting decidedly portly and found that for me , it worked. It is based on the Atkins diet, but what is ingenious is how you re-introduce sensible carbs. I found my energy levels higher, my mood dramatically changed and embedded deep within myself the concept of moderation (hence the continuation of my Sunday morning sausage sandwich).)

Idea no. 2: Similar but use large flat field mushrooms as a base for anything. Yesterday's lunch was the mushrooms baked in the oven with a little butter and garlic, topped with a round of goats cheese and then sat on a bed of watercress with a mustard-y dressing.

Idea no.3: Their idea for a faux-mash made with cauliflower may strike a hint of fear into many, but actually it's amazing and incredibly versatile. The basic premise is to steam cauli florets until tender, then whix them up with a little butter and double cream (or creme fraiche), seasoning and perhaps some nutmeg. Get the consistency right and it's lovely for spooning over shepherd's pie or moussaka; you can add cheese of any description to add bulk and in the recipe book, they suggest adding an egg yolk, whisking the egg white and folding it in and then topping a baked field mushroom, before baking until risen and golden, which sounds an elegant lunch.

One of their most striking points is that breakfast needn't be sweet. As someone utterly without a sweet tooth, I have never found the problem to be pastries and muffins and so on (I even find the fruit in my muesli too much), but rather the ingredients of a fry-up. They go on to suggest that you could pretend you've woken up in Bavaria and feast on meats and cheeses, smoked fish and vegetable-fruits such as tomatoes and avocados, which is an idea I'm rather taken by. Guten Appetit.

A lazy Sunday

I spent three days last week at Borough Market promoting CherryAid - my work's campaign to promote the British cherry - and it was knackering. Brilliant, fun and thank you to everyone who signed up, bought cherries and came along to the CherryBake, but still - knackering. So when Sunday rolled around, I was too tired to really think about cooking up a storm; rather, watching the storms outside while reading books upon books with a dog on my lap.

So what did I end up with? Breakfast was utterly wonderful and plagiarised from Val Warner's new book. I dared to eat - not a peach - but a nectarine, halved and de-stoned, which I placed on a large white plate and sprinkled with a little dried oregano. I then toasted a tsp of fennel seeds in a pan. While toasting, I spooned some Greek yoghurt next to the nectarine and trickled over some heather honey. I topped it with the fennel seeds. A feast on the lighter side, but with a couple of croissants on the side, warmed through, and a large pot of black Columbian coffee from Union Roasted, all it lacked was the sunshine to eat it in.

Sunday dinner was even lazier. I had defrosted a couple of thin venison steaks but lost the urge and energy to eat a meal of separate components. So I fried them for 1 1/2 minutes per side, then rested them in foil. I deglazed the pan with red wine and added a small amount of a curious Italian fruit jelly (blackberry...?). I split some warmed ciabatta and piled in thinly sliced venison, rocket leaves (from our new diminutive crop) and a couple of cherry tomatoes (straight from the vine). The only other thing I added was a schmear of wild mushroom pate underneath the venison.