On Thursday Thomas Keller’s long awaited cookbook, Bouchon, arrived on my doorstep. I’d had a cursory flick through it at a friend’s house and had pledged there and then that as soon as I owned the book I would tackle one of the more demanding bistro classics, the French onion soup. On my honeymoon, back in October, I’d enjoyed a particularly good one at Pastis (a faux French bistro located in the trendy meatpacking district in New York) Whilst the rest of the food was not up to much, the crusty bread laden with melting cheese floating in the sweet oniony liquid refuses to leave my memory.

Technically speaking the soup itself is not difficult to prepare however it is time consuming, you’ll need the best part of an afternoon. Keller’s recipe instructs one to spend 5 hours intermittently stirring the onions (which means a total cooking time of well over 6 hours) in order that the onions reach the perfect point of caremalization and surrender their sweet juices. In a professional kitchen this is all well and good but for the home cook it can be a daunting and unnecessarily worrisome task. So whilst I have stuck loosely to Keller’s recipe I have reduced the cooking time (by approximately 2 hours) by not using a heat diffuser under the pan meaning the onions cook significantly quicker. Another modification I made was using chicken stock instead of beef, like many cooks I usually have some lying around in my deep-freezer whereas I very rarely make beef stock, using the chicken stock makes the soup lighter and less meaty.

The most unpleasant aspect of the recipe however is chopping the mountain of onions needed. This is particularly irksome if you are predisposed to weeping, a sure fire trick that works for me is to put a metal spoon in my mouth. However whilst this might avoid tears streaming down your face it won’t guard against the onions infusing their potent odour into everything in their immediate vicinity and that includes you. So beware you might have a distinctly whiffy air of onions about you for a couple of days.

A final word of warning, keep an eye on your onions when cooking, if you notice there is too much liquid in the pan turn up the heat and make sure you dry them out a little otherwise they will boil instead of caramelize.

Despite all these little annoyances nothing beats a lovingly prepared onion soup, especially when it is cold and rainy outside as it is while I am cooking the soup. It is the ultimate in comfort food, so much more than just a soup, a meal in itself, and ultimately spirit lifting.

French Onion Soup

For the Soup
8 pounds yellow onions
4 ounces unsalted butter
kosher salt
1 ½ teaspoons all purpose flour
beef stock ( chicken or vegetable will do)
sherry wine vinegar

For the Croutons
1 baguette
extra virgin olive oil
kosher salt
6 -12 slices aged Comte or Emmentaler cheese (at lease 4 inches square)

For the soup
Cut of tops and bottoms of the onions, then cut the onions lengthwise in half. Remove the peels and tough outer layers. Cut a V wedge in each one to remove the core.
Lay an onion half cut side down on a cutting board with the root end towards you. Note that there are lines on the outside of the onion. Cutting on the lines (with the grain) rather than against them will help the onions soften.
Melt the butter in a large heavy stockpot over a medium heat. Add the onions and 1 tablespoon salt, and reduce the heat to low. Cook stirring every 15 minutes and regulating the heat to keep the mixture bubbling gently, for about 1 hour, or until the onions have wilted and released a lot of liquid. Continue to stir the onions every 15 minutes being sure to scrape the bottom and corners of the pot, for about 3 hours or until the onions are caramelised throughout. Remove from the heat (You will need 1 ½ cups of onions for the soup, reserve any extra for another use)

Transfer the caramelized onion to a 4.5 litre pan. Sift in the flour and cook over a medium-high heat, stirring for 2 to 3 minutes. Add the beef, veg or chicken stock and sachet, bring to a simmer, and simmer for about 1 hour or until the liquid is reduced to 2 litres. Season to taste with salt, pepper and a few drops of vinegar. Remove from heat.

For the Croutons
Preheat the broiler/grill. Cut 12 3/8 inch thick slices from the baguette (reserve the remainder for another use) and place on a baking sheet. Brush the bread lightly on both sides with olive oil and sprinkle lightly with salt. Place under the broiler/grill and toast the first side until golden brown then turn and brown the second side. Set aside and leave the broiler on.

To Complete
Return the soup to a simmer. Place six flameproof soup bowls, with about 1 ½ cups capacity on a baking sheet to catch any spills. Add the hot soup to the bowls and lay the cheese on top.

Place under the grill for a few minutes until the cheese bubbles, browns and forms a thick crust. Eat carefully the soup will be very hot.

Pavlova is one of those deserts I associate with my childhood summers. One of our nanny’s used to bake the most wonderful creations, filled with what my brother and I considered to be the epitomy of poshness– papaya, mangoes and kiwi fruit. Yesterday waking up the sun streaming between the blinds I knew it was a Pavlova day and leapt out of bed to search out a recipe.

It didn’t take long before I found one staring at me alluringly from Nigella Lawson’s excellent cookbook ‘Forever Summer’. Her recipe deviates slightly from the norm by her inclusion of chocolate, which in my book is always a welcome addition. As luck would have it a new chocolatier, Paul Young, has recently taken up residence in a small shop, in Camden Passage, round the corner from my apartment. It is homage to all things chocolate and I have been spending a little too much time there scoffing down his award winning sea salt caramels. For the purposes of the pavlova however he recommended using Valhrona dark chocolate 66% cocoa content, you can use one with a higher cocoa content if you desire.

The topping is also a matter of personal preference. To be honest you can stick most types of fruit on top. Nigella uses raspberries however they had run out at the local supermarket so I was forced to use strawberries and blueberries instead.

I’m not really a great baker so I was frankly rather relieved that this turned out so well. The meringue retained a crunch on the outside and a gooeyness within and the chocolate gave it an added depth and flavour.

After lovingly decorating the top of it with the strawberries and blueberries, I took it outside onto my balcony to photograph. I then rushed back inside to answer my telephone and when I returned found my naughty puppy up on a chair licking the side of it. You can imagine how mortified I was, thankfully however half of it was salvageable.

Serves 8 - 10

Meringue base
6 egg whites
300g caster sugar
3 tablespoons cocoa powder, sieved (I used Green&Blacks)
1 teaspoon balsamic or red wine vinegar
50g dark chocolate, finely chopped

For the topping
500ml double cream
500g raspberries
2-3 tablespoons coarsely grated dark chocolate

Preheat the oven to 180C and line a baking tray with parchment
Beat the egg whites until satiny peaks form, and then beat in the sugar a spoonful at a time, until the meringue is stiff and shiny. Sprinkle over the cocoa and vinegar, and the chopped chocolate. Then gently fold everything until the cocoa is thoroughly mixed in. Mound on to a baking sheet in a fat circle approximately 23cm in diameter, smoothing down the sides and top. Place in the oven, then immediately turn the temperature down to 150C and coof for about one to one and a quarter hours. When it’s ready it should look crisp around the edges and on the sides and be dry on top, but when you prod the centre you should feel the promise of squidginess beneath your fingers. Turn off the oven and open the door slightly, and let the chocolate meringue disc cool completely.
When your’re ready to serve, invert on a big flat bottomed plate. Whisk the cream until thick but still soft and pile it on top of the meringue, then scatter over the raspberries. Coarsely grate the chocolate so that you get curls rather than rubble, as you don’t want the raspberries luscious colour and form to be obscured, and sprinkle haphazardly over the top, letting some fall as it will on your plate’s rim.

After reading Chubby Hubby’s post a while back I was inspired to order ‘Off Duty - the world’s greatest chefs cook at home.’ Not only were the proceeds going to a worthwhile cause, The Nicholls Spinal Injury Foundation, it also boasted an impressive line up of international chefs, 48 in total, who are widely credited as the best in the world. To name all of them would be a laborious task but notable examples, from this country (UK), included: Gary Rhodes, Jamie Oliver, Rose Gray and Ruth Rogers.

It has proved to be excellent bedtime reading. The interviews conducted with each one are insightful and sometimes rather amusing; Heston Blumenthal sights butterscotch Angel Delight as one of his top ten ingredients, Thomas Keller votes sushi his favourite food, Giorgio Locatelli claims he never eats junk food, and most of them rightly concur that great quality, fresh ingredients form the basis for successful cooking.

The truly interesting aspect of the book however is the chef’s menu selection, which gives the reader a glimpse into what the world’s greats whiz up in the confines of their own kitchens. I particularly enjoyed Angela Hartnett’s offering comprising; pumpkin tortelli with amaretti biscuits, followed by braised halibut on red and yellow pepper confit, then roasted figs in red wine with zabaglione for pudding. Her formidable boss, Gordon Ramsay offered a delectable menu of; warm salad of smoked eel and new potatoes with horseradish cream, calf’s liver with sweet and sour mushroom and rocket marmalade, finished off with coffee panna cotta. Delicious.

Rick Stein’s recipe for marinated tuna with passion fruit, lime and coriander also caught my eye and served as the inspiration for last night’s supper. Whilst this was not strictly speaking a sashimi recipe (the tuna is partially cooked by the lime) it still required the freshest fish one could find, anything remotely smelly would have left you gagging. Bearing this in mind I headed for my nearest fishmonger, Steve Hatt, renowned for it’s excellence and friendly staff. I spied a ruby red tuna loin gave it a cautionary sniff and declared it perfect for the job. Next door, at the greengrocers, I grabbed the remaining ingredients and rushed home to see if I could recreate the dish.

Originally I was going to photograph my attempt but my slicing of the tuna left a lot to be desired and didn’t truly resemble the original. The sauce however was easy to prepare. The pomegranate – fruity and aromatic, counterbalanced the meatiness of the tuna. The end result, whilst not the prettiest, tasted magnificent.

I urge everyone to go out and buy this excellent book.

Marinated Tuna with Passion Fruit, Lime and Coriander – Rick Stein

3cm thick piece of tuna loin fillet – 400g
2 small ripe and wrinkly passion fruit
1 tablespoon lime juice
3 tablespoons sunflower oil
1 medium hot green chilli, deseeded and finely chopped
1 teaspoon caster sugar
1 tablespoon chopped fresh coriander
5 turns of the black pepper mill

Put the piece of tuna on a board and cut it across into very thin slices. Lay the slices, side by side but butted close up together, on four 25 cm plates. Cover each one with cling film and set aside in the fridge for at least an hour or until ready to serve.

Shortly before serving make the dressing. Cut the passion fruit in half and scoop the pulp into a sieve set over a bowl. Rub the pulp through the sieve to extract the juice, then discard the seeds. There should be about 1 tablespoon of juice. Stir in the lime juice, sunflower oil, green chilli, sugar, coriander, salt and pepper.

To serve, uncover the tuna, spoon over the dressing and spread it over the fish with the back of the spoon. Leave for 10 minutes before serving.