Egg fried rice is one of my all time favourite late night dishes. There is a particular teeny tiny, super busy spot in Soho that makes the best one I’ve had so far- I usually find it by smell, as every time I’ve been there I was either too tired or have had too good a time to remember its name or exact location. [READ MORE]
As I mentioned on yesterday’s post, one of the biggest Greek Orthodox Easter traditions is the making and consumption of mageiritsa, a meaty, herby soup, on Easter Eve. Although I’m not fussy at all when it comes to food and will probably eat anything put in front of me, I have never tasted this dish. [READ MORE]
I have a love and hate relationship with eggs; up until a few years ago, it was just a hate one. Any eggs I’d buy would always go bad- the only good thing that came out of that egg-hating period was that I mastered the technique of how to know if your eggs are still edible, after all the time they’ve spent in the fridge, looked down on and condemned to obscurity. I have this down to a t. [READ MORE]
You gotta have eggs for Easter, right? Chocolate or hard boiled ones, in beautiful colours. I’m used to Easter eggs being painted red and smashed together, two at a time, with the winner being the one whose egg remained intact. We always spent the Easter holidays in the mountains and the eggs to be dyed were white, fresh from our neighbour’s chickens, left on our front porch first thing in the morning. The dye was store-bought and mixed with water and vinegar would produce this intense crimson colour, which was beautiful and smelly and all around artificial. The most beautiful eggs were always the ones made by our neighbour: they were perfectly red and shiny, with the most gorgeous imprints from flowers and leaves. [READ MORE]
Easter holidays signify many different things for me- most of which are associated with family and I will be sharing them next week, just in time for Orthodox Easter, the one I was brought up celebrating. For the past couple of years however, Easter in London has been all about spending time with friends over barbeques and impromptu walks, wishing for warm weather and consuming copious amounts of chocolate. [READ MORE]
Even though I love all desserts almost equally, I tend to play favourites: cookies are usually my go-to, followed by pies and little fruity and chocolatey bites. Cakes are not at the top of my list; I think that’s probably because they are often associated with childhood baking memories, of which I don’t have that many. My mom rarely made any cakes (safe for this delicious, festive one), and when she did, usually in our house in the country, she had to fight our super temperamental oven: all desserts that went in there would come out almost always half burned- but we almost always ate them (apart from that one time, when she accidentally sprinkled a whole cake with corn flour, instead of icing sugar. I think we held off on that one). [READ MORE]
Let’s talk snacks; I have an endless love for them (which has well been documented here, here, here, as well as in various conversations I’ve had both with myself, as well as with others- often without being asked) and an overwhelming need to constantly come up with new recipes and ways to sneak them in my daily schedule. For example, when I’m watching a film or TV, there needs to be snacks around. Sometimes they are as simple as popcorn or homemade spicy nuts, but often they’ll be slightly more elaborate, like a small selection of cheeses or hummus, along with crackers and crudités. You see, Mike and I disagree almost always on what to watch, but we’re always, and I mean always, on the same page when it comes to snacks: the more the merrier and the tastier the better. [READ MORE]
I hate Mondays. I hate them with a teenager’s ferocity, passion and stubbornness. The weekend usually seems too short and by Sunday night, I often feel less than ready to face the week ahead.
But Monday comes, always, and with it the promise of a new week and the possibility to make it as pretty and exciting as you please. It is Monday and it is a new week, and it is up to us to make them count, right? And it all starts with a good breakfast. [READ MORE]
My favourite part of an Indian meal, is naan bread; at a restaurant or at home, I hold my fork on one hand, while the other is constantly stuck on a big chunk of naan, and then another and another. I just can’t get enough of it’s slightly chewy texture, its fragrance and the assistance it provides with whatever delicious dish I’m devouring. [READ MORE]
A couple years ago, I became full on, absolutely, ridiculously obsessed with soda bread. I would buy a chunky loaf from our local bakery/deli and polish it off in a couple of days. It was dense and fulfilling, with just the right amount of sweetness and dried fruit- and the best part: it was just divine with some soft butter spread on top. [READ MORE]