The Eggs
1 green chilli
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
1 small onion
1 small fresh tomato
4 large free-range eggs
a pinch of table salt
Remove the seeds from the chilli and finely chop so that it is almost shredded. Heat the oil on a medium heat in a big frying pan. When it is rippling, add the fine pieces of chilli. While they’re sizzling, peel and dice the onion really small and add to the pan. Deseed the tomato, and again finely chop this before adding to the pan. Leave to sweat for a minute. Then crack the eggs into the frying pan. With a heatproof spatula, break the yolks and stir everything together, but so that the white and yolk colours are still quite defined. Turn the heat down and continue to fold the eggs over with the spatula. When they are quite firm and integrated with the vegetables, remove everything from the pan and lay it out on two plates with the corn cakes. Heap the salsa on top, and season with table salt if necessary.
Buckwheat & Banana Pancakes with Runny Honey
Makes 4 pancakes
I love making pancakes: so easy a child can make them, and super fun because of the theatrical flipping. I spent a good deal of my formative years making pancakes, so I have happy flipping memories, but I must admit I don’t always get it quite right. I loved making them so much that in my early teens my dad bought me a beautifully thrown pottery batter bowl with a perfectly sculpted lip for pouring. The best pancakes are made with a little patience, as the batter should really sit for an hour at least before it is used. And for some reason, the first one to hit the oil is always a bit dud. My grandmother calls the first the dog’s pancake, for that very reason.
Buckwheat has a really distinctive flavour and texture. It is almost sour but in a really good tangy way, and gives a much more delicate body to the pancake, as it seems more finely ground than regular flours. It is also dark with a malty aftertaste, which really suits the combination of the banana and honey. By whisking the egg white in these pancakes, you will achieve a wonderful lightness that perfectly contrasts the dense banana and sticky honey.
1 medium free-range egg
80g buckwheat flour
100ml full-fat milk
a pinch of salt
1 tablespoon golden caster sugar
4 bananas that are just about to turn
3 tablespoons vegetable oil
4 dessertspoons runny honey
Separate the egg, placing the yolk in a lipped jug or bowl, and the white in a really clean metal mixing bowl. Add the buckwheat flour, milk, salt and sugar to the egg yolk, and whisk thoroughly to integrate into a smooth thick paste. There shouldn’t be a single lump. Set this aside for an hour and then vigorously whisk the egg white so that it forms quite firm peaks. Fold this into the thick batter mix, being careful not to lose the air you have laboriously made.
Peel the bananas and set aside, ready to be rolled in the pancakes. Heat a little oil in a good hard-bottomed frying pan. Get it consistently hot before pouring in about a cup or ladle of batter. You should have to really work it around the pan to cover it, as the foamy batter is not loose like a regular batter. By working it, though, it will be a light and crisp affair (rather than a stodgy mattress of a pancake). When the first side is cooked, the pancake will begin to brown at the edges. At this point quickly flip it (or turn with a flat bendy knife, carefully releasing it from the edges) and quickly cook the other side by merely sealing it. The pancake should look slightly decorated with golden spots. Now place a banana off centre on the pancake and fold the pancake around it, pressing down a little to seal. After a few minutes, remove from the pan to a waiting plate and hungry face before starting the whole process again with a little more oil if necessary. Pour over a little runny honey before serving.
Makes 2 sandwiches
I’m so lucky that there’s a great butcher round the corner from my shop. They make their own sausages in all the colours of the rainbow…with herbs, lamb, leek, even chicken. If you can build up a relationship with your butcher, meat-buying will be a rewarding and pleasurable part of the shop, so give it a go. And you’ll be supporting your local community, which will make it a better place for you to live.
The ultimate sausage sandwich is subtle in perfection. Sometimes the simple things are the most challenging to get right, like a roast or a fry-up. Here, it’s all about the scrumptious balance of husky sausage, tart mustard, sweet tomato, peppery rocket and buttery warm bread. These are fast catching up with scrambled eggs and chilli jam as the Saturday morning favourite at Rosie’s.
3 good pork sausages
1 small ciabatta loaf or 2 ciabattini
2 large tomatoes
unsalted butter (French, if you can find it)
2 teaspoons smooth Dijon mustard
2 handfuls of fresh rocket
freshly ground black pepper
Preheat the oven to 200°C/Gas 6. Divide the sausages, but do not prick them (that way you will keep hostage all the wetness and flavour that is waiting inside for you). Line a baking tray with greased paper and lay the sausages on top. Place in the oven on the top shelf for 20 minutes, turning once. Remove the sausages from the oven but leave the oven on. Cut the ciabatta into 2 square hunks, and slice each again in half. Place these back on the top shelf of the oven, dough side up, to warm and crisp and colour.
Meanwhile, slice the tomatoes into roundels, and the sausages in half. These will be divided between the two sandwiches, giving each one 11/2 sausages. When the bread is beginning to colour, which will take 3 or 4 minutes, remove from the oven, generously butter, and add a teaspoon of Dijon mustard to 2 of the slices. Add 3 sausage slabs to the Dijon-decorated sides and split the tomatoes between each sandwich. Finally grab a handful of rocket, shower with freshly ground pepper and seal with the singularly buttered top layer of ciabatta. Tuck in.
For 2
This is a great way of using up a leftover tomato pasta sauce. It is basically an egg poached and baked at the same time, in a tomato nest. Many countries have a version of it. I recently found a Turkish variation called menemen. This nestles in a vegetable ragout and is on offer as a quick snack in train stations and ports, which goes to show that it’s another one of these breakfast recipes that’s just as good, any time of day.
Anyway, Alice and I first ordered eggs en cocotte without really knowing what we were getting, in a brilliant little café in Camden Passage, giggling our morning heads off. Needless to say, I ate both hers and mine, as she had, as always, lost her hangover appetite, and because I thought it so tasty and clever. I wanted it over and over.
They will be most successful if you have those lovely shallow terracotta