At this time of year in Amsterdam, the morning mist throws a soft silver blanket over the sky and the water, the city coming into focus like an old film. Feeling nostalgic and also a little chilly in that cold-on-the-outside, warm-on-the-inside sort of way, my thoughts turn to autumn flavours
Last Sunday I had a hangover-induced craving for slow-cooked meat with pasta. I’d intended to make it with lamb and rosemary, but with the butchers and markets being closed, I was left with Albert Heijn’s hopeless array of un-stewable pre-chopped meat. Beef was the best I could manage to salvage, so I set about simmering it for three hours in a generous glass of Chianti, plum tomatoes, onion, celery, carrot and rosemary till I could shred the beef into meaty strands. I’d found some good quality dried pappardelle in the Natuurwinkel, which I dressed with olive oil, parmesan and more chopped rosemary. A hangover cure on a plate.
On Monday I left work early and spent an twilight hour assembling a sausage and spinach pie. This is a particular Nigellan favourite of mine, from the days when she was more domestic goddess than pouting prima donna. I’d bought pastry because I’m far too impatient to make it from scratch without the aid of power tools, which was a mistake because it was too elastic and came out of the oven rubbery instead of flakey. More satisfying, however, was the onion confit that I whipped up during the time the pie was in the oven. A mixture of red onions and white, a splash of red wine and a lot more red wine vinegar, a good glug of balsamic to add sweetness and a handful of brown sugar. For a little autumn spice, I threw in a couple of cloves and some cinnamon. A sweet and sour accompaniment to a hearty savoury pie.
