Is it just me or is November the longest, most boring month ever? It’s only the 6th and already I am bored of it. Then again, I have a very low boredom tolerance threshold. Twenty-four hours in my own company and I am climbing the walls. And cooking – a lot. Just to try and stave off the dark-evening’d, grey-sky’d, autumnal-blues-inducing dullness of it all.
I apologise. I think I’m having some sort of post-road-trip pre-Christmas come down. And as people’s parents tend to say: if you’ve got nothing nice to say, don’t say anything at all. So I’m going to shut up and show you what I’ve been cooking.
November’s seasonal ingredient of the month is horseradish, which was not only hard to find, but is also kind of a rubbish ingredient to blog about because you can’t actually see it in anything I’ve made. You just have to take my word for it.
First up, I made a sort of warm potato salad with horseradish, crème fraiche, mint and lemon juice. (I have my friend Renee to thank for this recipe.) Then I cooked something I’ve never made before: Salmon Wellington. I’ve never made a Wellington full stop, let alone a salmon one. (I’ve given it capital letters because capital letters – like Wellingtons – were cool in the 80s.) Despite its distinctly retro characteristics, it was pretty nice; I’d do it again.
Last night, I turned the rest of the horseradish into potato cakes, which didn’t go quite as planned. I blame Jamie. He told me to cut the potatoes into half-centimetre discs, when quite clearly mandolin-fine, dauphinoise-esque slices were called for. I layered my too-large potato pieces up with garlic, horseradish, seasoning and butter, and baked them for around 45 minutes, at which point the potatoes still looked much more like potatoes and not at all like cakes. But not to worry. I served my potato non-cakes with seared, flash-roasted duck breast and a red wine and rhubarb sauce. That last bit (the bit I improvised) went much better.
And on that note, I’m off to buy the ingredients for tonight’s boredom-busting baking session. Or to just find someone to have a drink with.
