JonnyLovesFood

Despite appearances, I'm not currently reading 100 Days of Sodom. I am in France though, and set myself a rather 'sadistic' challenge. I bought a crate of courgettes to prove to the people I live with that they are the most useful and versatile vegetable. I stand by this - we've had courgette ragu, courgette pasta (as in spaghetti made of courgette), courgette salad. All the courgettes. In this post, I'm going to share my favourite 2 courgette recettes with you. Spicy courgette cake and a Middle Eastern summer classic: muttabal kousa. The most important thing to remember with courgette cooking is that you can literally do anything with it

Courgette Cake

So, this took 2 of the 27 courgettes off my hands. Grate them and set to one side. Now, you make your cake. The courgette acts as you binder and moistener, so you don't use any dairy and whilst there is flour in the cake - obvy - it is super healthy. The measurements - and a slight alternative - I used can be found here: http://allrecipes.co.uk/recipe/19067/spiced-courgette-cake.aspx. However, do not use apple sauce and you definitely don't need to worry about brown or white sugar. Also, forget the pecans: walnuts work way better. Anway - my recipe and that don't differ all that much so don't worry if you don't like my ideas.

375g plain flour (+ backing powder and bicarb - handily in France they come together in 'cake sachet's) should be added to 400g of white caster sugar and 220g of demerara sugar. If you have no brown sugar to hand, don't worry. For those that like their cake super moist, you can substitute it for a few teaspoons of honey, or just use an extra 200g of white caster (note the difference!). Add in plenty of ground cloves, cinnamon and mixed spice - I don't give a fig about this whole 'teaspoon of x spice' blah blah blah - just add however much you want as it's your cake.

Beat together 4 eggs and, if you can find it, onion jam. The reason I use onion jam rather than apple sauce or anything is that I think the sweet onion flavour works much better with the courgettes and the spices, in particular. Whilst the apple enhances the 'Christmas' idea behind this, we're in summer and the onion makes it much fresher.

Fold this eggy jam into the mixture and then do the same for the courgettes. The mixture should turn from powder to raw cake mix basically instantly. The courgettes have all the requisite liquid in, alongside the eggs. The jam, as I discovered when I attempted to leave it out, is actually integral to making it work. Do not try to go without.

Add the extras, like chopped walnuts or glace cherries of whatever takes your fancy and pour into the greased pan. Cook, as you would any other cake, on about 190degrees FAN for about 30-40 minutes, or until it is set (i.e. when you can put a fork on top and it bounces back).

This is your final product:

Your cake should be dark all the way through. Beware - it is sticky, so make sure to be careful and let it cool before you remove it from the pan. Everyone scoffed at this idea: they soon ate their words - and another helping.

Muttabal Kousa

This is Syrian, and definitely one of my favourite dips. It's niche and rare, so this is one of the only recipes for it on the internet - I've looked for others. The story behind it is that I ate this once in Amman and loved it. In a quest to recreate it, I searched far and wide, but to no avail. Here is my not-half-bad reconstruction.

Like many other Middle Eastern dishes, this should not be eaten straightaway, but, rather, left in the fridge for perhaps a day, in order for the flavours to really coalesce. This is a delicate balance of cinnamon, mint and courgette and makes for my favourite warm weather, summery dip. To be eaten with pitta, or pasta or on salad or anywhere really.

Ok, Ok. I know this is not the most appetising photo in the world. However, in my defence, I was so desperate to get stuck in that I didn't have time to simper and fawn all over it in my best Nigelle impersonation. Unfortunately, my idol and I do not share the same ability to make the ugliest food sexy. Yet, trust me, this may not look amazing, but it just tastes of the sweet summer that we long for.

Take your courgette - perhaps 2 of them - and peel them. Then chop them to tiny tiny pieces. You must all chop 2 small onions in the same way and 3-4 cloves of garlic, depending on your taste. Fry the garlic and onions in lots (cholesterol? Obesity epidemic? Get stuffed...) until the smell is exquisite and the onion translucent. Add the courgette, alongside plenty of salt (who cares about your blood pressure... I don't!) and black pepper (or white, which would, I think, work better - sadly, none to hand). 

Stir and stir and stir your courgette gently round the pan. Now that the courgette (after perhaps 20 mins) is thin and soft and very edible and smelling fantastic, chop up some rosemary and some fresh mint. Add the fresh herbs and stir. Add about a teaspoon and a half of cinnamon - or however much you feel is appropriate - and continue to fry for a further five minutes.

Take the courgettes off the heat and roughly blitz with one of those hand held processors - do NOT blitz all the way like in the above photo, just so that it is mixed in well - my second attempt was much better. Stir in 2 tablespoons of creme fraiche, or natural yoghurt. Leave to cool and eat the next day, straight from the fridge. Like with the hummus, the muttabal kousa takes a day to really get there. 

People fear egg custards. They're super super easy and literally anyone could follow this recipe. I'm well aware I don't write in a conventional cookbook way with ingredients and amounts and precise instructions. Cooking is all about improvisation and just following your instincts. Don't get hung up on difficult recipes - there's always an easy one. This is your easy egg custard: it works every single time.

So, this is what you're aiming for - I warn you, egg custards are rather a speciality of mine:

Ok, so the pastry may not look perfect - but who would want that? - but the custard is, I promise. It requires a steady and patient cook who is prepared to let it cook slow-ish. Don't worry about that brown bit - that's actually normal and desired on a big custard like this. 

This quite clearly takes 2 different steps. Basic shortcrust is all you're making here, so I'd go for 7 ounces of flour and 4 ounces of butter. I don't go in for all that egg and milk pastry nonsense - all you need is flour and butter. Mix the two together with your hands until you get to the beadcrumb stage - try and go quickly, so it doesn't overheat. 

Briefly, the reasoning behind this is simple: if it gets hot, the butter melts making it harder to use.

Once you're at breadcrumb central, get your knife (from the fridge - did I mention you should put your knife in the fridge to prevent heating?) and stir (I know, odd, isnt it?) in teaspoons of water, slowly and cautiously, until you end up with a ball of dough. Wrap in clingfilm and pop in the fridge.

Grease-proof your pan and turn the oven to 220degrees FAN celsius etcetcetc. 

Now, for the custard. Get 3 eggs and 2 further egg yolks and whisk. Pop into a bowl and whisk in about 150g of sugar - sorry for the imperial/metric mixing but, as an Englishman, it's ever so hard to stick to one - and then put this mixture into the pan. Stir constantly as you slowly pour in 200-250ml (basically until the mixture becomes this off-white colour) of double cream. The mixture MUST not curdle, hence the stirring.

Add in 3 tablespoons of honey and a few drops of vanilla essence - perhaps some actual vanilla, if you're wealthy enough to have it simply on hand as you follow this blog. Keep on stirring until the mixture is warm through, but don't let it boil. Boiled cream is yuck. Absolute yuck.

Get the dough out of the fridge and roll it so that it is the right size for the pan. Put the dough in and pour the custard into the pastry. Grate nutmeg on top, if you want it to taste right. If not, this stage is optional Put STRAIGHT in the oven for 10 minutes, then switch it down to 175degrees and cook for a further 20-25 minutes, until the custard is cooked. 

So, I'm in France. Not content to sit tight with duck confit and raclette, I have taken to bringing the culinary delights of my year in Jordan with me. I'm staying with a lady who lived in Morocco for 19 years - she knows what good Arabic food should taste like. I decided to show her the hummus I had picked up in Amman - the style, CarrefourJO assured me, is Royal Hummus. 

It has a sweet and spicy flavour, due to the inclusion of both honey and cumin with the chickpeas, tahini and lemon juice. Firstly, as ever with these thick tahini based dips, you must mix equal parts tahini paste with lemon juice - try and squeeze in some bits of lemon and lemon zest as well, to make it super citrus. To be fair to the French, their ingredients are usually delectable. Their tahini paste is incredibly average and really quite expensive. Tant pis, hein.

Once you have your tahini and lemon juice, add about 1/2-3/4 of a tablespoon of cumin (yes, plenty - but, be sensible. You've probably guessed I'm not big on measurements with food that's not cake - use your taste buds to tell you how much to put in, so add it slowly until you feel you've put enough in). Then squirt in some honey. The mixture *should* be (very) thick and to taste sour at first, moving to sweet and spicy at the back of your mouth. The flavours at this point should be incredibly strong. 

Now, leave it in the fridge for at least an hour - notice how we haven't even added our chickpeas yet! You want a good jar, probably about 300g of chickpeas. Separate the jar into 3 and conserve a *tiny* portion of chickpea juice - seriously, what is that stuff in the jar?

Add your first third of chickpeas to the mixture and whizz with a handheld food processor (i.e. one of those sticks with a shard thing on the end). pour in lots of olive oil. Whizz again and add the second set of chickpeas. Put back in the fridge for the night.

Returning to life in England has returned me to the land of cider, steaks and sandwiches - three things which were missed greatly as I was abroad. Cider in particular. No sooner did I return to the West Country (current home), was I guzzling down as much of that apple nectar as possible. A note: Ashton's do a lovely cider. As do all other Somerset brands. Oh, how I do love the 'provinces' - to nab a word oft used by a friend at Oxford.

However, this is not a blog about Cider, unfortunately. Just a quick one on a small(ish) restaurant in Bristol. I, unfortunately, and as ever, do not have any photos to show you - yet, perhaps, that is a small mercy. Never have I ever (you heard me) had a burger so good. I've been twice - perhaps, they were equal. I have long said that that burger I nommed on in a Moroccan-Israeli restaurant in Tel Aviv was the second best burger in my life. This has always raised questions and it was always Burger Joint which provided the answer for the number one spot.

You arrive and, for me with my love of al fresco dining, plonk yourself on the closest available pew outside. They provide the menu and the list - a new concept for me. Coventry (my home town) was never the height of culinary excellence and a list with boxes to be ticked has never been provided to me on arrival in any joint, Burger or no. 

Anyway, the list has a real plethora of options. You can get boar burger, pulled pork and peanut butter - if you so desire. The burger, as I read the other day in the Evening Standard, has become such a symbol of our new obsession with anti-health food. Making out way through these decadently awful (for you) 'sandwiches' has become a key symbol of 'oh fuck off I don't care about my body' culture. I applaud it. As everyone knows, a burger is what I leap for on any menu. 

I forget what I had exactly first time round, although I can assure you it resembled the 'classic' - beef, cheddar, bacon, ketchup, mayo, chips is what I would guess. This time, I decided to experiment. I Greekified my burger - taking inspiration from the beautiful (and way o'erpriced) Greek diner across the way. Welsh lamb and mint patty, halloumi, onion rings, roasted peppers, tzatziki and salsa. Alongside the ever glorious twice-cooked chip. Oh the delights. 

I recommend each and every one (which, probably, amounts to the same number...) of you to hot-foot it to Bristol (Clifton) and park your bum at Burger Joint. You won't forget it. 

So, my last few days in Amman are approaching. Thank-God you might say - a return to the land of pork and plenty. England, that milk-and-honey alcohol a-plenty, bacon guzzling land. No more smelly foul or Guava juice (my personal least favourite fruit and juice is the increasingly popular Guava, found ubiquitously in Jordan). 

A recent trip to Beirut reafirmed my belief that Turkish-Arabic-Caucasian-Greek food is simply the best. You cannot beat it. This swathe of land between Greece and Armenia and between Yemen and Turkey, has produced some of the finest culinary products the world over. Hummus, falafel, kibbeh - to name just some that you may have heard of before.. All favourites of mine. I want to take you on a ten-point-tour of my favourite offerings from these lands, hopefully incorporating some regional specialities along the way.

I will end my time in Amman on a whirlwind restaurant tour, trying to sample some more of my favourite Jordanian delights, before I return to a constant offering of Corn Beef Hash, Fish and Chips and Chicken Tikka Masala.

1) The Arabic Hummus.

Arabic hummus is made slightly differently to its Greek counterpart. Whereas the Greeks favour a grainier, coarser texture, the Arabs have developed a much smoother paste. A simple recipe for hummus is to mix tahini sauce and lemon juice together in a bowl, forming a thick paste. Then add some chickpeas, some cumin and some coriander, alongside the world's best friend: salt. Whizz these together using your food processor - it is much harder without; I guess you could try mashing it? Add some oil (a healthy glug of olive oil never hurt anyone) and a dash of water - I recommend about 1.5 tbsp worth - to make it thinner. 

The beauty of hummus is how you can flavour it. Lemon and coriander. Roasted red pepper, Onion and balsamic vinegar - and these are just a few of the styles I have tried. Hummus, the ever popular dish, I fear I shall not meet you again in your best form until my next return to the Middle East. Let's face it: Brits really do mess it up. Adieu, universal dip of choice. 

2) Muffarakah bilBiyD - A.K.A. potato and eggs.

I remember walking into the hole-in-the-wall pokey cafe next to our institute one Winter's morning, freezing in about 6 layers, with a stomach fit to eat itself in hunger. Never had I tried their food - where they prepared it I know not, as the cafe  was only big enough for about 6 people, and invariably there were about 5 customers. I had always stuck to a simple Turkish Coffee, its mud texture attributable to the 'stringent' cleaning practices the cafe undertook. However, this one morning I looked at their food menu and saw 'Maffarakah bilBiyD' scrawled in English at the bottom. The cheapest - therefore, the best, surely!

Well, it made it's way into my heart and throughout that cold, cold Winter you could see me often chomping on such a sandwich. The stodge was unbelievable - potatoes, eggs, bread - heaven! Having explored Amman's culinary scene extensively (more to come), I often go for this dish out now, as it really is a winner and usually comes with meat as well. 

It is basically fried onions, meat, potatoes and eggs and in tiny cubes. If you ever see this on a menu, have it. I guarantee you'll never cook it!

3) Mansaf.

Where would Jordan be without its Mansaf? Mansaf, Jordan's national dish, is a very serious business. From Tefila to Irbid, Aqaba to Amman, Mansaf is enjoyed as a long and luxurious feast. In its essence, Mansaf is slow cooked lamb, sat atop a heap of slowly cooked rich and pine nuts, which is itself sat atop some thing bread. You finally pour over the jameed sauce - ranging from a thin sauce (Amman style) to a thick cheese (Southern style), jameed is made from solidified goat's milk and can be found at all supermarkets.

The rice is cooked in ghee and absorbs all the wonderful fatty flavours from the clarified butter. The meal's preparation takes hours. In Amman, you want to head down to Al-Quds or its neighbour Jabri for a cheap and semi-authentic Mansaf, whilst Sufra, one of Amman's high end restaurants, offers a much more tamed version, although one portion is still big enough for three! Anyone who tried this dish falls in love with it - give it a go!

4) Yalange.

Yalange, better known as vine leaves, is another personal favourite. Whilst I have always preferred the meat-stuffed vine, the Jordanian lemon-stuffed is also a favourite. Personally, I have never undertaken this monumental challenge myself - vine leaves on average take about 2-3 hours to make - I lap them up at any opportunity. In fact, I even spent 7JD (About £6.50) on a huge tin of them to take home - what a bargain!

5) Sujuk, Nakanik and other sausages.

Armenia, a land rich in cuisine and culture. I have always dreamed of doing a tour of Armenia and Georgia, such beauty can be found in their landscapes, their cultures and their languages - but more importantly their food.

Sujuk and Nakanik are both spicy forms of sausage found in this region. As it is made with beef, there are no food restrictions on this type of sausage, meaning it is enjoyed in the same way as bacon and pork sausages are. Often served with eggs for breakfast, I like to have Sujuk most as part of the hot mezze before any meal. I discovered this type of sausage in Ash-Shami in Oxford last year, and knew as soon as I had it that I loved it. Whenever I order Sujuk, I dream of that future holiday I will take to Armenia.

6) Sambousek.

Cheese, meat, spinach. Sambousek is really the most versatile of pastries. Personally, I think Georgian and Armenian cuisines will be the next big thing on the food scene - why not, they are perfect! Sambousek is an Arab variant of Georgian pastries, they sort of resemble an Indian samosa. 

Now loved across the region, my personal favourite comes stuffed with a gooey yummy melt-in-the-mouth cheese. They are crispy and warm and really hit the spot when you want a quick snack or, again, as part of the hot mezze. Whilst I have not seen spinach ones in Jordan, the meat sambousek is devoured as much as the cheese one, with a spicy warming aftertaste that leaves you perfectly satisfied by this Eastern delight.

7) Mana'eesh/Manaqeesh/Mana'ouche/Manageesh.

I, frankly, don't care how you spell this. The Mana'eesh is the perfect breakfast. The 'Arabic pizza' is often how it is described, and I can guarantee that it is a hell of a lot nicer than it's popular Italian counterpart. The best Mana'eesh I've had here would be the one I bought on the way to Church in Jabal Alluwebdeih. This tiny sunk-in-the-ground bakery appeared in front of me. All I could smell was egg, cheese, za'atar, tomato - I knew I was walking into second-brekkie teritory. 

Second breakfast was exactly it. I ordered myself a positively mind-boggling cheese and egg Mana'eesh, sat down and made my way through it with delectable delight - I got so wrapped up, I only made it to Church down the road 5 minutes before the start of Communion. Oops.

This breakfast really is a must-have. You can find it in many styles - in Lebanon, I've had it cooked on a Saj oven (a large dome) even. The za'atar variety is probably the majority favourite in the region, but, in my opinion, you can never have enough cheese.

8) The Lemon and Mint.

On a hot start-of-Summer's day, I suddenly found myself wandering around Jabal Alluwebdeih (my favourite Jabal, if you're interested) without very much to do. Settling myself in Jafra - one of my favourite eateries - I ordered my first lemon-mint since the end of October. I had almost forgotten what this fabulous drink tasted like. Sharp, sweet and soon-drunk, I've been a regular lemon-mint drinker since.

It's a drink I've never seen in England - sharp lemon juice, equal parts with mint ground up with ice. It's a slushie, but so much more. Jordan's weather had truly become just-bearable - and only when you have a nice lemon-mint.

9) Mutable.

Mutable will always rest associated with some of my favourite memories in Jordan. Early on in the year, we all attended a cooking course at Beit Sitti (meaning Grandma's House - how sweet) where we learnt how to make a mutable. Cooking the aubergines on an open flame until the skins become blackened and crispy, you remove the skin and ass to a pre-prepared mixture of lemon and tahini. The aubergine, cut up very small, added to the mixture creates a wonderful dip, akin to hummus. The finishing touch is a spoon or two of yoghurt and about 5 cloves of garlic. Truly, truly glorious.

The funny is that after this cooking course, I challenged my teacher to a dual: how can make it best - obviously forgetting that she had made it on average about 10 times. Resoundingly she beat me, yet since then I have grown to perfect my mutable, with it becoming a central place on every dinner we have held since. Guests love it. You'll love it. Try it!

10) Mouhammara.

Aleppo's answer to the dip. Mouhammara has become my favourite dip over the year, well surpassing mutable and hummus. I first tasted this beautiful dip on a drip to Istanbul, where culinary delights equally grabbed be my the throat. Subsequently only having it twice more, perhaps its paucity in Jordan has made it my highest rate dish - who knows?

The dish itself is roasted red pepper mixed with pomegranate molasses, walnuts, garlic and lemon. The end flavour is simply indescribably good. Sat in King Hussein Park stuffing my face with my friend Emily' muhammara and my mutable will always remain one of my favourite Jordanian picnics - her muhammara was overwhelmingly more popular than my mutable, I can tell you! The final time, Fakr Al-Din, Jordan's most 'exclusive' restaurant, also proved to be a hit - I had so much muhammara that I could barely eat the beautifully grilled lamb I had ordered - don't worry, I made my way through it regardless.

I promised yesterday to write on the shakshuka - Israel's favourite breakfast. Originally a North African meal, it has become a staple of Israeli restaurants. I got this meal from a Jewish friend who requested I try my hand at it - and here goes. This is my much more simple shakshuka, which does not involve all the herbs and spices that Otto Lenghi, amongst others use. Of course, his shak' is of deep flavour. However, when I tried making it all, it cost me about £10 to buy all the ingredients. My shakshuka is, conversely, my cheapest regular meal, coming it at about £3. 

The basic component of the shakshuka is a tomato-pepper sauce, on top of which you poach eggs. Sounds odd? Trust me, it's fab and on the up. Ever since old man Otto started faming Arab/Israeli food a few years ago, pictures of unmistakable shaks are to be found on pretentious cooking sites without the slightest explanation as to how to make this exotic delight.

I like to make 'shakshuka baladi' rather than plain old shak - this distinction I have stolen directly from the menu of Tmol Shilshom, a charming restaurant in West Jerusalem which serves up a beautiful array of Israeli/Arab/Turkish food. Well worth a visit if you're ever in fair Jeru. The distinction essentially surrounds what is in the shak.

In 'baladi', I include aubergine, courgette, walnuts and labaneh. In regular, you can steam ahead without these. In truth, I make both on the reg, but baladi is a personal favourite. 

On the eggs, you definitely need to be getting X Large from now on. Why bother getting M or L? What purpose are they serving you? Diet? Pfft - everyone knows eggs are full of health and vital nutrients (how else do you think the chick becomes nice and healthy?). You don't want to be left short-changed by piddly eggs atop a giant mound of veg. 

Start by chopping up 2 peppers (again I prefer yellow - mostly for the taste) and about 5 tomatoes (chop well). An onion and a couple of cloves of garlic are to be chopped as well. If you're going baladi about it, 1 aubergine and 1 courgette, chopped well. 

In order to poach the eggs, you need to be able to cover the pan. In a pan with a detachable lid, pour plenty of olive oil and cook your onions until transparent. Then add spices: cumin, coriander, sugar, salt, pepper and thyme are all spices and herbs you should have in your house. Otto requires bay leaves, cinnamon and others. No need - you only really need the cumin, to be truthful. 

Once you can smell the lovely deep spicy smell beginning to incorporate with the onions, add your peppers (and other veg, but not tomatoes) and your garlic and cook for about a minute. To tell you the truth, I never really know what I'm waiting for when I cook peppers in a stew - I mean, they don't particularly soften in the 2 minutes you wait before you put your tommys in. However, wait we must, even if just for convention's sake. 

Now add your finely chopped tomatoes and cover with a lid. Add water if you need. This meal differs from the last one because of the spices - it becomes much deeper and richer than the other, which is more spicy. 

After about 20 minutes, your tomato sauce should have turned into the same soup-like mixture of cooking vegetables. Now, with a spoon, make a small well in the water and add your first egg. It won't sink, don't worry. For each egg - normally 1/2 for each person - make a welland add in the egg. Once all the eggs are added, put the lid on and wait about 5 minutes, until the eggs are cooked. You can tell, as the egg at the top will be solid, not runny. The yolk should still be runny, however. If this doesn't happen, it's no big deal, but the runny yolk adds a wonderful taste to the tomato mixture.

There you go, Israel's breakfast and your easy all-day meal. Don't bother with Otto, he's much too much for me. Follow this guide and you can make a lovely Middle Eastern meal in minutes with very cheap ingredients.

Ratatouille. It's a simple meal, really. Ratatouille is a French meal consisting of courgette, pepper, aubergine, onion, garlic and tomato all cooked together to form a lovely soup-like dish. The French have had a history of baking it - my second and least favourite method. This takes time. However, in recent years, as ratatouille has seen somewhat of a revival, it has developed to be a hob-based meal. I find this gives it a better flavour - and its done in no time! On the hob, I use more tomatoes, as I like it to become more like a soup.

Firstly, for both styles, you must know what to buy. I prefer white onions and rose-coloured garlic for this dish - the two compliment each other here very well and the subtlety of this type of garlic compares well with the richer flavour of a white onion. For the aubergine, you only really need one medium sized one - the aubergine is, in my opinion, very much a take it or leave it ingredient; I don't always include one in mine. For variety, a yellow pepper stands out from the otherwise red crowd nicely. I usually buy both beef and cherry tomatoes - the cherry for the flavour and the beef for the water

On the hob:

1-2 large onion

Roughly 10 cherry tomatoes and approximately 4-5 beef tomatoes

1-2 yellow pepper

2-3 courgettes

1 medium sized aubergine or 2 baby aubergines

2-3 large cloves of (rose, or otherwise) garlic - really don't be shy!

Maggi (or other) chicken/vegetable stock cubes (I use 2)

Lots of paprika and chilli powder

Za'atar or any other thyme mix will add a Middle Eastern flavour

Be sure to go heavy on the olive oil - it is so good for you!!!

Labaneh for serving (I mix with thyme and olive oil)

Chop your vegetables up well. Courgettes and peppers should be sliced. It doesn't really matter which way you chop it all up, although I recommend small pieces for the aubergine, as it will take longer to do otherwise and uncooked aubergine is one of the worst!

For the tomatoes I do not remove the skin - it's such a waste of time. I can't understand why anyone bothers (Anyway, the skin is the best bit nutritionally: the skins contain Lycopene, which is also found in aubergine skins and is a great anti-oxidant). I simply take out the stalky bit of the tomato and chop in a circle around it so that the tomatoes is in simple wedges.

Pour a hefty amount of olive oil into the pan and fry the onions in a hot pan, until transparent. Then add the peppers and the courgettes. It is at this point that I add salt and pepper, so that the flavours of the individual vegetables really comes out (this is the magic of salt - and I don't go soft). Now add your garlic. It's a fallacy that garlic should be added at the same time as onion. If you care at all about tasting it, you should add it now, to prevent it burning or the flavour being lost inside the onions. 

Now add the chopped up tomatoes, paprika, chilli pepper and stock. You want more paprika than chilli pepper, but both give it a rich, spicy kick. If you feel that you haven't used enough tomatoes, add some water, but it should be enough. Put some more salt over the tomatoes and stir in together. Then you put the lid on and simmer for about 25 minutes.

Voila. You have a sort-of soup. Spicy, thick and full of goodness, this vegetable soup is something I cook most days. To serve, get a bowl and take a few spoons of labaneh. Mix in za'atar and olive oil until you get a lovely dip. To be eaten with a toasted pitta. 

In the oven:

Using the same ingredient, but many fewer tomatoes, and more aubergine, chop all the ingredients to be strips (peppers and onions) and slices (aubergine, courgettes, tomatoes). Fry each of the vegetables separately (this time combining onion with garlic).

You start with onion (adding garlic once mostly cooked). Remove and put in your oven pan. Then courgette, pepper and finally aubergine. The same step applies each time, meaning you will have a layered dish. Between each layer put some flavouring (salt, pepper, paprika) and then just pile the tomatoes on top. Crumble the maggi cube over the aubergine, before adding the tomatoes.

Put in a pre-heated oven (about 200 degrees) for 40-50 minutes - or until the aubergine is cooked. Then it's ready to serve. I prefer to serve this alone or, if made small, as a vegetable side.

The chicken and cheese innovation:

Now, we move on to my personal favourite innovation - a couple of others to follow in an article on the similar shakshuka. This one involves chicken and cheese and is simply a perfect meal for any occasion. 

This is a variation on the hob variety - although doubtless it could be done in the oven. You leave out the aubergine and retain the same heavy tomato recipe. 

You need one chicken breast per person and meltable cheese - i recommend Cheddar, but Red Leicester, Double Gloucester and other similar cheeses will do. Buffalo Mozzarella would give this a delicious Italian twist.

Chop the chicken breast into cubes and add after the onions are fried - fry until all the sides are white and then add the peppers. Continue on as before, using the hob recipe. When you are about to serve, leave about 5-10 minutes extra and chop up the cheese into big slices. Place on top of the soup and let it float about, whilst still on the heat. Put the lid back on and let the cheese melt all over the soup. Once melted, turn off the heat and serve. 

Because you are not cooking in water, but tomato and oil, the chicken will not go dry, no matter how hard you try. The cheese must not be touched - once added, put the lid back on and leave it, otherwise it will melt into the dish, which would be rather weird. The cheese should be a stand alone component. Do not serve with labaneh - it would taste very odd. 

A salad is truly a wondrous thing. As I sit here, hungover, I crave cucumber. Tomato, get inside me. I'd take an uncooked aubergine. When I want a salad, I really just want something fresh, full of vitamins - and there's nothing better. 

It's well known that vegetables and fruit lose their minerals and goodness with cooking - and even chopping. Vitamin C especially floods out of your food once you modify it. Therefore, for one's health, surely nothing could be better than the simple, humble salad.

On every 'in touch with reality' TV show that chefs such as Jamie Oliver undertake, we meet mums who claim that they can't afford to feed their children salad - or that they haven't enough time. In truth, little could be cheaper. Perhaps I speak through a Jordanian lens when I talk about 6 onions costing me the equivalent of about 25p, but really, vegetables are the best thing on a budget - in times of crisis, I often 'become a vegetarian' for a week to save on the fils.

When 'cooking' a salad - perhaps 'assembling' is a better word - I always make a choice: Greek or Caesar? These basic two salad types are really the easiest and best. If we're talking Greek, we're talking tomatoes, cucumbers and peppers (I prefer to use yellow, so that they really stand out - peppers are, after all, my favourite vegetable). When I'm feeling like Caesar, it's a lettuce et al. - sadly no pepper. 

Over the last two nights I created both and felt the need to share them with the world. The Greek salad was an easy affair; it always is. 1 pepper, 1 cucumber and 2 tomatoes per person - or a handful of cherried tomatoes. Put half a red onion (per person) in the oven, topped with a tsp of olive oil and another of balsamic vinegar for 15-20 minutes. Once its ready chop it into rough pieces and sprinkle on top. Then you add your cheese - preferably feta. However, any Turkish or Greek soft cheese works well. This evening I had jmada cheese, an Arabic equivalent which you are supposed to sculpt into balls and put into a jar full of olive oil. It is much creamier than feta but has the same distinctive flavou which really balances out the sweet onion and pepper.

However, despite the fact that as a basic salad, I will always choose Greek, my favourite salad uses a Caesar base. The photo below shows you: we're talking avocado and sardine (or mackerel) salad - or, as I like to call it, the good fat(s) salad.  

I will be writing an article on good fats shortly, but in essence these foods carry all the fats that will 'kill fat' - according to the google search "How do I get a flat stomach?" - i.e. the monosaturated fats. 

Avocados go so well with fish - it's really amazing to think I'm not stuffing this in my face all the time. The truth is, they're also pricey. In Jordan, we eat Israeli and other import avocados and they come out at around 1JD per avocado, meaning they sometimes double the price of an otheriwise healthy salad. 

In general, the idea for this was taken from the beautifully simple and greatly used BBC Good Food website - their stuffed aubergines did, indeed, look scrummy.

Aubergines are an often overlooked vegetable in the Western kitchen. Other than the falsely named 'exotic' moussaka and the odd baba ghanoush, we never seem to use this highly versatile vegetable. Truly great because of its rich, deep flavour, and its uncanny ability to absorb an incredible amount of olive oil, aubergines, or eggplants, really are a gold-mine of opportunities as far as food comes.

Personally, this meal is preferable to any stuffed potato skins you can throw at me. The aubergine, much healthier than the potato, is also much more filling and much tastier - its taste is rather indescribable, being a bitter but also deep and complex.

What you need:

1 large aubergine per person (I weigh generously)

1 courgette per person

1 tub cherry tomatoes (there's always a need)

1 onion

2 cloves of garlic per person

1/2 a pepper (preferably red)

olive oil

cheese (any melting cheese, not like halloumi)

breadcrumbs

salt, pepper and any other seasonings (me, I like cumin)

Your method:

Firstly you need to chop up your onions, garlic, peppers, courgettes and tomatoes - these things will not go brown once chopped. Once finely chopped, put these things aside.

Cut your aubergines in half. Using a knife, cut out the insides of the aubergine and chop finely - add the chopped aubergine to the pile of other vegetables.

With the two shells, coat them in olive oil and then place them ina foil parcel - I use these a lot; they're a really great way to put things in the oven and not have to wash up. Put the aubergine on one, large, sheet of foil. Then you fold up the sides to make a sort of dish. Add another layer of foil over the top, which goes over the gap completely, creating a parcel. Khalas. Put the parcel in the oven (220'C without a fan).

With the rest of the vegetables, you now prepare a vegetable stew, of sorts. Put the onion into a boiling pan with plenty of hot olive oil and stir until it becomes transparent. Then add the rest of your vegetables, beginning with the aubergine, and ending with the pepper. As you add the rest of the vegetables, turn down the heat to the minimum.

Do not add the garlic straightaway with the onion. The garlic will simply burn if you do this, so save it until the onions are transparent and the other vegetables is in. As the vegetables cook, add salt and pepper (plenty of, for both) to the mixture, alongside any other spice you want.

Once the aubergines have been in the oven for approximately 20-25 minutes, add half the cheese to the vegetables, so that it melts into them. Then take the aubergine shells out of the oven and add the amount of vegetable required to fill the shells. Top with cheese and breadcrumbs and drizzle over some more oil.

Put back in the oven for another 20 or so minutes. The aubergines should now have turned a sort of brown colour, rather than their original, striking, purple, and they should taste incredible.

Hi, I'm Jonny and I love to eat and I love to cook. This blog, fairly naffly put together, will attempt to broadcast the sort of food we cook at home in our flat in Amman, Jordan. Here, we're living on a fairly strict student budget, as Amman is not a cheap place, let me tell you. The food I cook for me and my two flatmates is always affordable and always delicious - even if I do say so myself.

The food is mainly British and European inspired, but, living in the Middle East, there are, naturally, many Middle Eastern influences to my cooking.

I will attempt to go through complicated and simple recipes at the same stroke, as everyone must learn from an absolute basis of nothing.

The food I make is never perfect - there is always room for improvement in everyone's cooking, but, by this blog, I hope to share one of my passions with the world.