April

Peas with boiled lemon and parmesan

Just when I thought my reliance on and love for lemons couldn’t go much deeper, I discovered boiled lemons, by way of Claudia Roden.

Whilst I must admit that I have only ogled at her chicken traybake with olives and boiled lemon (in Med: A Cookbook), rather than actually made it (it’s on my never-ending, ever-growing “to cook” list), it established a newfound favourite way with lemons.

For many, the verb “boil” doesn’t exactly have wonderful connotations in the kitchen, most probably due to an association with sad, limp, water-logged vegetables served from a school gastro tray. But please trust me when I say that this process has a transformative effect on lemons.

Most notably, boiling results in soft, yielding fruit that can be used in its entirety - juice, peel, pith, and all. The flavour remains true to that of raw lemons (unlike in the case of preserved lemons), with the edges rounded out a little.

Once the chopping board is pebbled with almost translucent lemon pieces, and dripping with juices, the options seem almost as never-ending and ever-growing as my “to cook” list:

~ Toss through the simplest green salad
~ Spoon over baked fish with capers and dill
~ Stir through a pan of garlicky white beans
~ Add to a harissa marinade
~ Fork through rice with herbs and chopped almonds

Or follow my lemony lead below and make a chunky dressing with fried hazelnuts to spoon over another reliable (and boiled!) favourite - peas.

Peas with boiled lemon and parmesan

As I mentioned in a recent newsletter, I eat peas by the bowlful so would happily have this with a slice of toast and call it lunch, but it would also be delicious alongside a roast chicken, a slurpy pasta, or that lamb you’re planning for Easter.

This makes twice as much boiled lemon as you need (hopefully you’ll agree this is a good thing). Store the extra lemon in a clean jar in the fridge for up to a few days (or up to a week if you cover with olive oil) to have on standby for almost anything and everything.

Serves 4

2 unwaxed lemons
70g hazelnuts, roughly chopped
5 tbsp olive oil
Pinch of chilli flakes
500g frozen peas
30g parmesan, blitzed to rubble in a food processor or finely grated

Bring a medium pan of water to the boil. Gently lower in one of the lemons, cover with a lid and boil for 25-30 minutes until a knife inserts easily. Lift out the lemon with tongs or a slotted spoon to keep the boiling water for cooking the peas.

As the lemon boils, put the hazelnuts and olive oil in a small pan over a medium-low heat. Cook for 5-7 minutes until the hazelnuts are lightly golden (they’ll continue to brown in the residual heat of the oil, so be sure to pull off at lightly golden). Stir in a pinch of chilli flakes and flaky salt.

Quarter the boiled lemon lengthways. Remove pips and any tough, fibrous pith. Cut the lemon quarters into strips then chop relatively finely (you still want discernible pieces rather than minced lemon). Scoop up into a bowl and squeeze in the juice of the fresh, unboiled lemon. Transfer half of this to a clean jam jar to keep in the fridge for another day. Pour the oily hazelnut mixture into the remaining lemon, mix well, and taste for seasoning.

Salt the pan of boiling water then add the peas, cook for just a few minutes until tender, then drain.

Spoon the lemon and hazelnut dressing over the peas and sprinkle over the parmesan rubble.

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Bits & bobs

Enjoyed reading this piece in the FT on “rules for restaurant dining”. Lots of voices, lots of opinions; some amusing, some serious. Topics of debate include how to avoid the “restaurant concept” explanation (dull at best, toe-curling at worst), the logistics and etiquette of small plates (tricky), and returning to old restaurants as much as going to new ones (amen).

Pretty daffs and more pretty daffs

This made me immediately google Zhingyalov Hats

I wish I was sitting at this table