Leave the gun...take the cannelloni.

So I went a bit cooking-herical today. I don't know what got into me, especially as last night I was up until 2am making chutney (note to self: chutney takes a loooong time, don't start it at ten in the evening). Despite the late night exploits I still felt the need to make more jam, and then more chutney, and in between I knocked up a batch of cheese scones for lunch and a cannelloni for dinner.


Not bad for one little lady. N says he now understands why Italian women often spend between seven and nine hours in the kitchen! He was also very sweet indeed in his appreciation of our lunch of cheese scones and homemade chutney; a meal entirely homemade.

I don't want to reveal much about the preserves as I am possibly going to unleash them on people as Christmas presents. However I do want to talk about the cannelloni.

I've never made cannelloni before. My only experience of it is my childhood memories of my Mum standing over a pot of sauce patiently stuffing tubes of dried pasta and whisking white sauce. The result was one of my favourite meals back when I was a meat eater. Now it's the veggie versions that occupy that place. It has to be one of my favourite pasta dishes, and I might even go as far as saying it's one of my favourite dishes full stop.

And yet for some reason I'd never attempted it myself. Then last week a huge batch of spinach arrived in our organic box and I decided to attempt a spinach and ricotta lasagna. We'd had once at our last DnD session in Lancing and it was absolutely delicious. So there I was wandering our local shop searching for lasagna sheets, when the tubes caught my eye. The second I saw them I knew it was fate. Cannelloni it was going to be.


So it was that this evening, whilst stirring chutney with one hand, and chatting to a friend with the phone crooked in my neck, that I came to be messily and frantically stuffing dried pasta. I'd adapted the filling from Delia Smith's spinach and ricotta lasagna (and by this I mean totally changed. It still used the spinach and ricotta but that's where the similarities end!) and decided that since neither N or I care for white sauces that I would top it with a very basic tomato sauce. Nothing too rich, just a bright flavour to cut through the creaminess slightly.

Having stuffed the tubes, laid them in the dish and covered them in the sauce I popped it in the oven covered with foil for 40 minutes, then uncovered it for the final five minutes.

The result was a lovely mix of the earthy spinach, creamy ricotta and the clear taste of the tomatoes. We didn't even have anything with it. Another winner, and definitely worth posting as one of the few savoury dishes that makes it onto the blog (mostly because we eat them too fast and I don't get to photograph it, not because I don't make or enjoy savoury things!).

Spinich and ricotta cannelloni with tomato sauce (mine served two, but they were large portions, so it might serve four with a side dish and dessert).

NB: I did most of this by approximation in a bit of a Nigel Slater "toss it all in and give it a go" way.

For the filling:
150g ricotta (I've since discovered you can use tofu, hurrah for the vegans out there)
300g spinach (stalks removed)
grated parmesan (or vegan cheese)
freshly ground pepper
slug of milk (soy is what I used)
dried cannelloni tubes

For the sauce:
one small onion, or preferably a shallot
one 400g tin chopped tomatoes
squeeze of tomato purree
dash of balsamic vinegar
pinch dried basil
glug of olive oil

Put a small knob of butter in a large saucepan over a low heat and then add the spinach. Place the lid on and leave for a minute or two, then stir and leave for another a minute or so. When it's completely wilted strain using a sieve. When it's cool enough to handle squeeze it to get rid of the very last of the water. Then chop finely. In a bowl mix the ricotta with a small slug of milk and some freshly ground pepper. Then grate in some parmesan. Once combined add the spinach and mix together. Then stuff in the cannelloni tubes.

To make the sauce:

Finely chop the onion and the fry in some olive oil until softened, add the herbs and continue to fry for a minute to release the flavour. Then add the tomato puree and balsamic vinegar. Mix to make a slight sauce then add the chopped tomatoes. I also add a dash of white wine to make it a slightly richer, but bright flavour. Cook over a reasonably high heat to evapourate some of the excess liquid. Then remove from the heat and cool slightly. I then whooshed mine with a hand-held blender to make it smooth.

Spoon the sauce over the top of the prepared cannelloni and then cover with foil. Bake at 160C for 40 minutes, then uncover and bake for a further 5-10 minutes to crisp up the top.

Preparations/ Preparazioni

I am currently preparing myself on two fronts: firstly, for the oncoming autumn, it's late harvest of luscious vegetables slowly giving way to the onslaught of months and months of root vegetables; secondly, for our holiday to Italy!

Why I am I preparing for the autumn first? Because, if you hadn't noticed from previous posts, it's here already. Meteorologically the season of autumn officially started on September first. In my opinion it started long before that, because despite the odd glimpse of sunshine it has felt distinctly autumnal for at least a couple of weeks now. Tonight is no exception, it's blustery and chilly and when we went for a walk earlier the streets were strewn with damp brown leaves.

I usually like autumn. I like autumn fruits and being able to wear jackets again, and the promise of showing off my scarf and glove collection. Thing is, I've been showing off my scarves all summer because it hasn't been warm enough not too. Autumn, I like you, but please leave me alone with summer for a few more weeks?

Which bring me to the second piece of preparation. We're off to Italy next week for a well deserved holiday. I think N deserves it more than me, but I'll cope with a rest, I'm a trouper. We have been craving a trip to Italy for a long time now, and having decided long ago that the summer was set to be yet another wash out we booked the flights and next week we shall be on our way. Hopefully with some sunshine to ease our vitamin deprived skin and lots of delicious food and wine to ease our deprived stomachs.

Okay, you could never describe the stomachs in this house as deprived (even Sniff is getting a bit thicker round the middle these days!), but if you ask me you can never ever have too much Italian food. So yesterday I set about making a roasted vegetable lasagna. A meal that I feel bridges the gap between the end of the summer and the beginning of autumn: lots of fresh vegetables from harvest time, roasted to concentrate their goodness, and then baked to provide a hearty meal.

I used Delia Smith's recipe from her vegetarian collection and tweeked it slightly to fit what I had on hand. I had to use plain lasagna sheets as I didn't have spinach ones, and instead added a layer of fresh spinach. I also did have tomatoes to add to the roast vegetables and so added an extra red pepper. In hindsight I think the dish would have benefited from the presence of tomatoes and I next time I make it (and I will because I love lasagna) I will add a layer of tomato sauce. I think a tomato sauce - rather than just some roasted tomatoes - would help cut through the creaminess of the bechamel sauce, as I found it a bit much. On the whole though it was a good dish, and with some adaptations to personal taste has the makings of a great dish to warm you up on a cold autumnal day.

I'm afraid I can't be bothered to type out the recipe right now. Shocking I know, but it's late and I want to read my book, the recipe is long, and it's in the other room. Plus, I want to wait until I have changed and adapted it and tried it again with tomato sauce included and a slightly different version of the bechamel. That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it! I promise next time I make this, and get it right, I will post the full recipe, including my tweaks.

Perpetual pasta pastry

This was the carnage produced by my wonderful idea to have a go at making our own ravioli last night. It seemed like a good idea at the time!

A couple of weeks ago we bought a butternut squash at the farmer's market. I wasn't sure what I wanted to do with it. I'd done risotto recently and didn't want to make a salad or eat it roasted on it's own. I have however wanted to try it in ravioli for a long time. I'd been holding out on pasta making until getting a rolling machine. I just didn't think I'd get the right results rolling dough by hand. However, on the Abel and Cole bill this week was a recipe for pasta dough that they said didn't need a machine. I discarded their idea for filling and decided to replace it with a roasted butternut squash and Parmesan puree. I put the squash into roast and set about making the dough.

I didn't have any eggs left so decided to replace them in the recipe with milk, which since the recipe only asked for one, should be alright. Off I went. It was going fine to start with, the dough came together no problem and felt like it had a nice texture. The problem came with the rolling. It was so elastic that rolling it was incredibly hard work, and since you need it as thin as possible it was not only taking me ages, but also causing considerable shoulder ache. The going was tough and slow and in about half an hour of working the dough I'd only managed three little parcels! They looked great, but one and a half bits of pasta in half and hour meant we wouldn't be eating dinner anytime that evening, and whenever we did there wasn't going to be much to fill us up.

Fortunately my pasta rolling hero came to the rescue. N, being both stronger and taller, was able to roll out the dough much faster and thinner than I was. The pasta production line went into action. He rolled, cut and re-rolled, I filled, sealed, cut and dusted. In no time at all we had a sheet filled with butternut squash ravioli! Despite my initial worry about not having enough pieces the "perpetual pasta pastry" as it came to be called proved us both wrong. N kept rolling and kept managing to produce more little circles. We stopped in the end because we were starving and needed to cook it, plus earlier we'd given in and put some ciabatta on to bake to help fill us up. I think we had nearly 20 parcels in the end, and there is still dough sitting in the fridge!

In order not to overpower the subtle flavour of the squash and Parmesan I decided to serve the pasta with a simple sage infused butter, which would gently coat it, and provide nice dipping for our bread. It worked really well.

I enjoyed the meal, and there is something very special about tucking into pasta you've made, and filled yourself. However, I think I'll wait until we've got a pasta machine until I make it again, and then start more than forty-five minutes before we want to eat!




"Perpetual Pasta Pastry" - adapted from Abel and Cole (serves two, or maybe three or four depending on your patience and portion sizes!)

115g plain flour
slug of milk
pinch of salt
2tbsp water
2 tbsp olive oil

sift the flour into a large bowl. Add the salt and form a well into which pour the milk, water and olive oil. mix until combined into a dough. Turn out onto a floured surface and knead for five minutes until elastic. Roll out as thin as possible and cut out and even number of rounds using a pastry cutter or glass. Roll these circles again until as thin as possible. Pair them. Wet on with water all over, drop a teaspoon of filling in the middle, top with another round and press down around the edge of the filling to seal and remove air bubbles. Cut again to securely seal. Lay dusted with flour on a baking sheet (I lined mine with a bread making tea towel to make sure they didn't stick).

When ready to cool, bring a large saucepan of water to the boil. Cook about six at a time (or as many as will fit comfortable in the pan and not stick together) for 3-5 mins until glossy and cooked through. Remove from the pan with a slotted spoon, drain in a colander and serve.

Filling: (filled our parcels with loads left over for another time)

1 butternut squash
dried sage to taste
ground pepper
pinch of salt
grated Parmesan

Cut the squash into quarters and de-seed. Place in a roasting tin with a glug of oil, and a sprinkling of dried sage. Roast until soft. Remove from the oven and cool, then remove the skins and place the flesh in a blender with a good pinch of salt, a grinding of pepper and grated Parmesan to taste (I used a large handful). Blend together.

Sage butter:

2 tbsp unsalted butter
5 fresh sage leaves roughly torn.

Place the butter and sage in a milk pan on the hob. Heat very slowly to melt the butter without burning it. When melted remove from heat and let sit as long as possible. Before serving re-melt and drizzle over the pasta.