Ricotta Polenta Almond Cake with Poppy Seeds and Lemon

No flour again! After my Spanish Almond Tart with Blood Orange, I got a little hooked on no-flour cakes. I don't follow a gluten-free diet - luckily, my diet is far from this - it's just for the fun of it. The texture is different when you work with ground nuts instead of wheat or spelt, it's more juicy, and here, the polenta adds some crunchiness. I've already experimented with a few polenta-almond combinations and enjoyed this one a lot: poppy seeds, ricotta, and lemon. I use ground poppy seeds, they don't look as pretty in the cake but they have a richer aroma than the whole seeds. The juice and zest from the citrus fruit makes it nice and fresh and helps me to forget that the variety of fruits that I can use for my baking projects is still quite limited. It's mainly citrus, apple, and pear but I'm coping. Only a few more months left and all those berries will be back in my kitchen.

This weekend, I'm spending some quality time with my mother. It's carnival and, according to our annual family tradition, we all meet in the countryside to make Berliner (jam filled German doughnuts). We dress up funny (some of us) and listen to silly music, it's actually so silly that it's better to drink some wine or Champagne while it's on to stand its distinct humour. Two years ago, I wrote about this family feast and shared the recipe for our sweet treat. If you're up for it - carnival isn't over yet - here's the recipe. And if you prefer the Greek version, here are my Loukoumades with Honey, Cinnamon, and Pistachios.

Ricotta Polenta Almond Cake with Poppy Seeds and Lemon

Makes 1 cake

• ground skin-on almonds 150g / 5 1/2 ounces

• fine polenta 80g / 3 ounces

• baking powder 2 teaspoons

• fine sea salt 1/8 teaspoon

• unsalted butter, at room temperature, 100g / 1/3 cup plus 2 tablespoons

• granulated sugar 200g / 1 cup

• organic eggs 4

• fresh ricotta 100g / 3 1/2 ounces

• freshly grated lemon zest 3 tablespoons

• freshly squeezed lemon juice 3 tablespoon

• spoppy seeds (preferably ground) 50g / 2 ounces

For the topping

• icing sugar, sifted

• freshly grated lemon zest 1 teaspoon

Preheat the oven to 180°C / 350°F (preferably convection setting). Butter a 20-cm / 8-inch springform pan.

In a medium bowl, combine the ground almonds, polenta, baking powder, and salt.

In a large bowl, use an electric mixer to beat the butter and sugar for a few minutes until light and fluffy. Add the eggs, one at a time, mixing well in between until creamy. Add the ricotta, lemon zest, and juice and beat for about 1 minute until combined. Using a wooden spoon, stir in the almond-polenta mixture and the poppy seeds until well combined. Spread the batter evenly in the prepared pan and bake for about 35-40 minutes (slightly longer if using a conventional oven) or until golden brown and firm on top. If you insert a skewer in the centre of the cake, it should come out clean. Let the cake cool for 10 minutes, then take it out of the pan. Dust with icing sugar and sprinkle with a little lemon zest.

Beet Ricotta and Roast Shallot Sandwich with Spinach and Fried Thyme

Few things frustrate me as much as trying to make vegetable chips and failing completely. The kitchen is in mess, everything is coated in a layer of oil (including myself) and the result is so hopelessly bad that it has to go right into the bin. My parsnip chips from a couple months ago turned out so perfectly that I felt brave enough to think it would be that easy with any kind of roots or greens. But I was wrong. I had thin, crisp beetroot and spinach bites on my mind but a burnt disaster on my plate. It was so frustrating as I already had the perfect sandwich for this composition ready in my head: the chips were supposed to lay gracefully on a bad of sweet, juicy shallots roasted in the oven in their skins. I could already see the bright purple and green screaming in front of the pale onions. But reality was different. There was no bright anything but a black, bitter disaster.

I know I should have done it before, but afterwards I read and learned that beet chips can be cooked in the oven, which should be much easier. At that point my mood had reached such a low point that I decided to go for a different creation. I looked at the two beetroots that were lucky enough to escape the scorching hot oil in the pan and stuffed one of them in a blender along with some fresh ricotta, olive oil, thyme, and lemon juice. You could boil the root first but I actually enjoyed the crunchy raw bites in the dip. Fried thyme was next and a success - the tiny leaves thrown into sizzling olive oil and taken off the heat immediately, were just right - neither dark nor bitter. And all this piled up on a thick leaf of raw spinach. You could make a juicy ciabatta sandwich with it but I was too lazy to go to the bakery so I grabbed my dark spelt potato bread. It added heartiness to the earthy flavours. This is a proper winter sandwich, stuffed with taste and vitamins.

Beet Ricotta and Roast Shallot Sandwich with Spinach and Fried Thyme

Makes 2 large sandwiches

For the roast shallots

• medium shallots, in their skins, 8

• olive oil 1 tablespoon

For the beet-ricotta dip

• peeled beetroot, raw or boiled, roughly chopped, 120g / 4 ounces

• fresh ricotta 100g / 3 1/2 ounces

• olive oil 3 tablespoons

• freshly squeezed lemon juice 1 teaspoon

• fresh thyme leaves 1 heaping teaspoon

• fine sea salt

• ground pepper

For the fried thyme

• olive oil 3 tablespoons

• fresh thyme 8 small, young sprigs

For the sandwiches

• dark bread 4 slices

• large mature spinach leaves 4 (or a small handful of baby spinach)

• black peppercorns crushed with a mortar

Preheat the oven to 425°F (220°C).

For the roast shallots, in a baking dish, toss the shallots with 1 tablespoon olive oil. Roast for 15 minutes, then turn them over and roast for 15 minutes on the other side. If they feel soft when you push them down gently, they’re done; set aside.

For the beet-ricotta dip, combine the ingredients in a blender or food processor and pulse until smooth. Season to taste with salt, pepper, and thyme. If the dip is too dry, add more olive oil.

For the fried thyme, heat the olive oil in a small saucepan over high heat, add the thyme sprigs. Take off the heat immediately and set aside.

Brush 2 slices of the bread with the thyme oil from the saucepan and cover with spinach leaves. Sprinkle with generous dollops of the beet-ricotta dip. Snip the ends off the roast shallots and squeeze them out of their skins onto the dip. Lay some fried thyme on top and sprinkle with crushed peppercorns. Close the sandwich and enjoy.

Perfectly Fudgy Ginger Chili Double Chocolate Cookies

Over the past few days, I've been working on last year's tax declaration, a rather frustrating task that is only bearable with lots of sweets on the side. Or a glass of wine, which I don't recommend to avoid serious problems with your tax office due to illogical inconsistencies caused by a tipsy mind. This highly responsible - but absolutely boring work - needs lots of concentration and sugar to keep the brain cells awake. I think any kind of cookie would have worked in my case - I'm always happy when I have these sweet, chunky bites in my mouth - but I was after a powerful treat, packed with spice and bittersweetness.

And here's what I came up with: Ginger Chili Double Chocolate Cookies. I would call it a proper man's cookie, at least our male friends who passed through our flat recently were absolutely hooked on them and praised the perfect balance of softness and crunch. They are very dark, with chocolaty depth, I used melted bittersweet chocolate plus roughly chopped chunks and only a little bit of flour, which had an amazing effect on the texture. These cookies are soft inside, a bit fudgy, and wrapped in a thin, shiny crust - perfect. I stirred in plenty of freshly grated ginger and finely chopped fresh red chili pepper. The result was hot, citrusy and fresh - don't expect a slight hint of the spices, they are present.

You have to take these cookies out of the oven at the right point, when the dough is just done. I made 11 cookies, 10 were perfect, and only 1 of them (for whatever reason) was still too gooey inside for my taste. The chocolate flavour is intense, I wouldn't use chocolate much darker than 55% for this recipe, the bitter note can become too overpowering and disturb the spices - even for men.

Ginger Chili Double Chocolate Cookies

Makes 10-12 cookies

• bittersweet chocolate (about 55%) 300g /10 1/2 ounces

• unsalted butter 45g / 3 tablespoons

• freshly grated ginger 1 heaping tablespoon

• ground cinnamon 1 teaspoon

• plain flour 65g / 1/2 cup

• baking powder 1/2 teaspoon

• organic eggs 2

• granulated sugar 100g / 1/2 cup

• fine sea salt 1/4 teaspoon

• medium hot fresh red chili, finely chopped, 2 teaspoons

Preheat the oven to 180°C / 350°F. Line 1 baking sheet with parchment paper.Roughly chop 1/3 of the chocolate  (100g / 3 1/2 ounces) and set aside.

In a medium saucepan, melt the remaining chocolate, the butter, ginger, and cinnamon over low heat, stirring occasionally. Let it cool for 2 minutes.

Combine the flour and baking powder and set aside.

In a large bowl, use an electric mixer to beat the eggs, sugar, and salt for 2 minutes until light and fluffy. Whisk in the melted chocolate until well combined. Using a wooden spoon, fold in the flour and chopped chocolate until just combined. Stir in the chili and scoop 1 heaping tablespoon for each cookie onto the lined baking sheet, leaving a bit of space between the cookies. Don't flatten the cookies. Bake for about 11-12 minutes or until the cookies are a little crunchy outside and slightly soft in the middle. Take the baking sheet out of the oven and let the cookies cool for 10-15 minutes before you transfer them to a wire rack to cool completely, the chocolate will need a little while to become hard again.

Beluga Lentils with Ginger Orange Rutabaga and Rosemary

I once read that the 3rd Monday of January is supposed to be the most depressing day of the year - Blue Monday. I don't know if it's true, luckily it has already passed, and I didn't notice my mood drooping drastically that day. However, I've felt a rising impatience for more light and warmer weather to come back into my life. So much so that I had to book flights to Malta last night. This always makes me feel so much better, no matter how far in the future the departure date lies, just the thought of it puts me in a good mood.

Another way to lift my spirits is food. Cosy food, colourful food, or simply delicious food. This dish combines all of it: nutty Beluga lentils, topped with thin slices of rutabaga, quickly cooked in the pan with lots of ginger, orange zest and juice, and fresh rosemary. The rustic root is as bright as the sunrise over Malta's east coast and its earthy flavour can easily deal with some strong aromas. I was surprised how well it merged with the dark legumes.

Beluga Lentils with Ginger Orange Rutabaga and Rosemary

Serves 3-4

For the lentils

• Beluga lentils, or any lentils (no soaking required), 280 g / 10 ounces

• small sprig fresh rosemary 1

• bay leaf 1

• olive oil

• balsamic vinegar 1 tablespoon

• fine sea salt

• ground pepper

For the rutabaga

• peeled rutabaga, cut into wedges and very thinly sliced (use a mandoline or cheese slicer), 300g / 10 1/2 ounces

• freshly grated ginger 1 tablespoon

• freshly grated zest of 1 orange

• freshly squeezed orange juice 100ml / 1/3 cup plus 2 tablespoons

• fine sea saltground pepper

• finely chopped fresh rosemary needles 1-2 tablespoons

• black peppercorns, crushed in a mortar

Place the lentils in a saucepan with plenty of (unsalted) water, add the rosemary and bay leaf, and bring to the boil. Simmer for about 20 minutes or until al dente (or follow the package instructions). Remove excess liquid with a ladle if necessary and stir in a generous splash of olive oil and the vinegar. Season to taste with salt, pepper and vinegar.

While the lentils are cooking, prepare the rutabaga: In a large, heavy pan, heat a generous splash of olive oil over medium-high heat. Add the rutabaga and cook for about 5 minutes, stirring occasionally, until golden and al dente. Scrape the rutabaga to the side, add a little more olive oil to the pan along with the ginger, cook for 1 minute, stirring constantly. Add the orange zest (leave a little of the zest for the topping) and juice and season with salt and pepper. Stir in the rosemary or use as a topping once the plates are ready. Cook for another 1-2 minutes until the desired texture is reached.

Divide the lentils between plates and lay the rutabaga on top. Sprinkle with rosemary, orange zest, and crushed peppercorns and drizzle with a little olive oil (optional). Serve immediately.

Germknödel - Austrian Yeast Dumplings with Plums, Poppy Seeds & Vanilla Custard

Somewhere in the snowy mountains in northern Italy, is a tiny village that you can only reach through a dangerously narrow road. Winding up higher and higher, dark fir trees on one side and deep gorges on the other, it makes you pray with gratitude once you get to the village safely. I used to spend a lot of time there, skiing and walking through the woods, through knee-deep snow until I reached one of the cosy wooden huts that are luckily spread all over to offer the frozen wanderer a bit of warmth, rest, and food. The culinary treasures of this region - in South Tyrol - are outstanding and one of the best things you can give your body when the temperatures are freezing.

One of these treats actually originated in Austria but crossed the border and became a staple in the local cooking: wonderfully fluffy Germknödel. It's a yeast dough dumpling, usually filled with plum butter (thick and sticky plum jam) and topped with melted butter, poppy seeds, and icing sugar. It's one of those dishes that you can easily eat for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I used to enjoy it so often on the terrace of a very old hut, it had a breathtaking view over icy-white mountains, often framed in a sparkling blue sky. The chef used to serve it with thick vanilla custard instead of the melted butter and that's what I do in my kitchen as well. I also replace the plum jam with whole plums for a bit more fruitiness. The only difficult task I had to solve, was to decide how I would steam the dumplings (I don't have a steam cooker in my kitchen). You could also blanch them in water but the results aren't as nice. A quick phone call with my mother and my problem was solved. I did it the way my granny Lisa used to cook dumplings: on a cotton tea towel tightened with clothespins over a wide pot filled with simmering water - old-fashioned, cheap, and my Knödel were perfect. I could have steamed them one after the other to give them a pretty round shape, but I was impatient. I cooked all at once, up against each other, and broke their fluffiness apart when they were done. Warm, tender, and fragrant, you don't want to eat anything else ever again.

Germknödel

Makes 4 large dumplings

For the dumplings

• plain flour 270g / 2 cups plus 1 heaping tablespoon

• granulated sugar 25g / 2 tablespoons

• ground cinnamon 1/2 teaspoon, plus more for the plums

• fast-acting yeast, scant 2 teaspoons

• fine sea salt 1/4 teaspoon

• milk, at room temperature, 120ml / 1/2 cup

• butter, melted and cooled, 40g / 3 tablespoons

• organic egg 1

• jarred plums, cut in half, 2

For the topping

• ground poppy seeds 2-3 tablespoons

For the vanilla custard

• whole milk 500 ml / 2 cups plus 2 tablespoons

• organic egg yolks 4

• granulated sugar 100 g / 1/2 cup

• cornstarch  30 g / 1/4 cup

• fine sea salt 1/8 teaspoon

• vanilla pod, split lengthwise, 1

To steam the dumplings, you need a large, wide pot (mine is 24cm / 9 1/2" wide), a cotton or linen tea towel plus 4 clothespins to fix the towel, and a metal (or heat-resistant) bowl, large enough to cover the pot as a domed lid.

For the dumplings, combine the flour, sugar, cinnamon, yeast, and salt in a large bowl.

Whisk together the milk, butter, and the egg - the mixture should be lukewarm. Add to the dry mixture and mix with the dough hooks of an electric mixer for a few minutes or until well combined. Continue kneading with your hands for a few minutes until you have a soft and silky dough ball. Place the dough back in the bowl, cover with a tea towel, and let rise in a warm place, or preferably in a 35°C / 100°F warm oven, for about 70 minutes or until doubled in size.

Punch the dough down, take it out of the bowl, and knead for about 30 seconds. Divide the dough into 4 equal portions and use your hands to form each one into a 10cm / 4" disc. Lay 1 plum half in the middle of each dough disc and sprinkle with a little cinnamon. Fold the dough up and use your fingers to squeeze the dough together to close the dumplings and seal the plums tightly inside. Roll into balls with your hands and transfer the dumplings to a lightly floured baking dish or baking sheet. Cover with a tea towel and let rise in a warm place for about 20 minutes until puffy.

While the dumplings are rising, fill about 1/3 of the pot with water and bring to the boil. Take the pot off the heat and lay a cotton or linen tea towel over the pot (mind the hot steam). Fix the towel with clothespins at the handles so that the towel can hang in the pot without touching the water. Lay the dumplings - 4 at once or in batches, if you want to have round shaped single dumplings - onto the towel, they shouldn't touch the water. Cover with a tight fitting metal bowl (upside down) and transfer the pot back to the heat. Turn the heat down to a low simmer (medium to medium-low) and steam the dumplings for 20 minutes without lifting the top (!).

While the dumplings are cooking, make the custard: In a small bowl, whisk 4 tablespoons of the milk with the egg yolks, sugar, cornstarch, and salt until well combined. In a medium saucepan, bring the remaining milk and the vanilla pod to the boil. Take the vanilla out and scrape the seeds from the pod into the milk. Whisking constantly, add the egg yolk mixture to the hot milk and bring to a boil. Take the saucepan off the heat; continue whisking for 2 minutes and set aside.

After 20 minutes take the pot off the heat and the top off the dumplings - mind the hot steam. Carefully transfer the towel with the dumplings to a table, wait for about 2 minutes then use a knife to peel the dumplings off the towel. If you cooked all of them at once, break them into 4 pieces. Serve immediately with the warm vanilla custard, sprinkled with poppy seeds.

Spanish Almond Tart with Blood Orange

No butter and no flour: The traditional Galician Torta de Santiago is only made with almonds, sugar, and eggs plus a little lemon zest and sweet wine for flavouring. Originating in the Middle Ages, when people didn't really think about gluten-free or butter-free baking, it's a cake that happens to please even the ones who want to cut down on calories or avoid normal flour in their diet in the year of 2016.

I'm neither of them but I got hooked on the idea of baking a cake with only three main ingredients - about one third of this cake is nuts, the other third is sugar (it's still a cake) and the rest is eggs, seven to be precise. No baking powder or baking soda. The original Galician tart is more flat than mine - I wanted a juicy cake - and it has a pattern of the Cross of Saint James in the icing, which is where the sweet gets its name from, it translates to Cruz de Santiago. I skipped the religious reference. I also replaced the lemon with blood orange (zest and juice) and left out the wine. Cinnamon crept in instead and gave it a warming, wintery touch.

Although this cake may seem quite unspectacular, it tastes wonderful: It's moist, nutty, and fragrant. The inside is almost fudgy, but before you get there, you have to break the crisp crust. It's as delicate as the outside of a French macaroon and once you cut through it with a knife, the center of the tart will collapse a little, just a bit, there's no need to worry. This combination of soft cake and crispiness - apart from its delicious taste of course - is my personal highlight of this Spanish cake classic.

Spanish Almond Tart with Blood Orange

Makes 1 cake

• ground almonds (or hazelnuts) 350g / 12 1/2 ounces

• freshly grated blood orange zest 2 tablespoons

• ground cinnamon 1 tablespoon

• organic eggs 7

• granulated sugar 350g / 1 3/4 cups

• freshly squeezed blood orange juice 2 tablespoons

• icing sugar, to dust the cake

Preheat the oven to 180°C / 350°F. Butter a 20 cm / 8" springform pan.

In a large bowl, combine the almonds, zest, and cinnamon.

Using an electric mixer, in a large bowl, beat the eggs and sugar for 1 minute until creamy.

Fold the almond mixture along with the orange juice gently into the egg-sugar mixture until just combined. Bake the cake for about 55 minutes or until golden brown and springy on top. Check with a skewer, it should come out almost clean. The centre of the cake will be a bit fudgy. Let the cake cool for about 10 minutes before you take it out of the pan. Sprinkle with icing sugar.

Turkish Pide with Provençal Olive Tapenade

Anatolia - my new favourite cookbook by Somer Sivrioglu and David Dale - inspired me to create a cultural fusion. Turkey and France meet in my vegetarian version of Somer's Lahmacun - thin pide (Turkish pizza) spread with a thin layer of minced meat and chopped vegetables. The original recipe uses minced lamb and tastes fantastic, but when I enjoyed this crisp treat a couple weeks ago, I decided to try a meat-less variation of it.

Compared to Italian pizza, it's a quick project. The dough is made without yeast and doesn't need to rise, and the ingredients for the tapenade pulsed in a blender don't need much time and attention either. The topping is dark and concentrated, lots of Kalamata olives, parsley, red onion, capers, anchovies, and mustard. It's quite an addictive little snack, the two of us ate all four pide in one go at lunchtime!

Pide with Provençal Olive Tapenade

Serves 2-4

For the dough

• plain flour 270g / 2 cups plus 2 tablespoons

• salt 1 teaspoon

• water, lukewarm, 125ml / 1 cup

For the tapenade

• pitted black olives, preferably Kalamata, 200 g / 7 ounces

• flat- leaf parsley leaves 20g / 1 large handful, plus more for the topping

• medium red onion, chopped, 1/2

• capers, preferably preserved in salt, rinsed and dried, 25 g / 2 tablespoons

• anchovy fillets, rinsed and dried, 4

• olive oil 8 tablespoons, plus more for the topping

• freshly squeezed lemon juice 2 tablespoons

• Dijon mustard 2 teaspoons

• ground pepper

For serving

• Fresh red chili pepper, thinly sliced, 1/2

Preheat the oven to the highest setting (at least 260°C / 500°F) and put a baking sheet on the bottom of the oven.

For the dough, combine the flour and salt in a large bowl, add the water, and mix with the dough hooks of an electric mixer for a few minutes until well combined. Transfer the dough to a countertop and continue kneading and punching it down with your hands for 5 minutes until you have a smooth and elastic ball of dough. Divide the dough into 4 balls, place them back in the bowl, cover with a damp tea towel, and leave to rest while you prepare the tapenade.

Purée the ingredients for the tapenade in a blender or food processor until smooth.

On a floured table or countertop, roll out the dough with a rolling pin into four 23-cm / 9-inch rounds and cover with a tea towel. Transfer 1 round to a floured pizza peel (or medium cutting board) and spread evenly with 1/4 of the tapenade (you might need a bit less) and sprinkle with a little chili pepper. Transfer the pide to the hot baking sheet in the oven and bake for 4-5 minutes or until golden brown. Take the pide out of the oven, drizzle with a little olive oil, and sprinkle with a few parsley leaves. Repeat with the remaining pide. Enjoy warm or cold.

Clementine and Saffron Cake

In the past few days, my oven hardly stopped working - I baked, and baked, and baked. I wanted to give some recipes from my book a final test run, which meant we ended up with three cakes, a bowl of cookies, and a huge pot of soup on the table. We couldn't cope, so a bunch of friends came over yesterday - my happy helpers when there's more food in my kitchen than two people can possibly eat. We started with mulled wine in the late afternoon, had an extensive cake and cookie tasting session, enjoyed the soup to balance our sugar shock, and finished the night with even more mulled wine. The dishes were all received with great enthusiasm (and with different favourites, which is fantastic), and this morning I woke up without a headache. It's a good weekend!

Before I jumped into my test baking, I put a new creation in my oven, a fragrant clementine and saffron loaf cake inspired by Marilena's Milk Pan di Campobasso - a traditional cake from the Molise region, in Italy. Marilena's cake is infused with saffron threads and Strega liqueur (an Italian saffron spirit), and covered with a crunchy hazelnut chocolate icing. It was the first time that I used this sumptuous spice for sweets and I learned that it's absolutely delicious when used moderately. It's been almost two years since I mixed saffron into a cake batter so I thought it's time to take it out of the spice box again. I added the sweet juices of clementines, a little zest, and some buttermilk, and turned it into a juicy teatime cake.

Clementine and Saffron Cake

For a 24cm x 10,5cm / 9.5″ x 4″  loaf tin you need

• buttermilk 90ml / 1/3 cup plus 1 tablespoon

• saffron threads 1/3 teaspoon

• plain flour 210g / 1  2/3 cups

• cornstarch 70g / 1/2 cup plus 1 tablespoon

• baking powder 3 teaspoons

• salt 1/4 teaspoon

• butter, soft, 180g / 3/4 cup plus 1 tablespoon

• granulated sugar 180g / 3/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons

• organic eggs 3

• freshly grated clementine zest 2 tablespoons

• freshly squeezed clementine juice 3 tablespoons

For the clementine syrup

• icing sugar 2 tablespoons

• freshly squeezed clementine juice 3 tablespoons

For the topping

• freshly grated clementine zest

Set the oven to 160°C / 320°F (preferably convection setting) and butter a 24 x 10 1/2-cm / 9 1/2 x 4-inch loaf pan.

In a small bowl, add the buttermilk and saffron and stir to combine.

Combine the flour, cornstarch, baking powder, and salt in a medium bowl.

In a large bowl, beat the butter with an electric mixer until fluffy, add the sugar and continue mixing until well combined. Add the eggs, one at a time, mixing well in between. When the mixture is light and creamy mix in the zest and juice. Fold in the flour-cornstarch mixture with a wooden spoon in batches, alternating with the saffron-buttermilk (about 1/3 of each at a time). Pour the dough into the buttered pan and bake for about 52 minutes or until golden on top (slightly longer if using a conventional oven). Check with a skewer, it should come out clean. Let the cake cool in the pan for a few minutes before you transfer it to a wire rack.

For the syrup, whisk the icing sugar and clementine juice until combined. Prick the warm cake. Slowly pour the clementine syrup over the cake, sprinkle with a little clementine zest, and enjoy!

Bittersweet Chocolate Muffins filled with Peanut Butter

I'm not a big fan of New Year's resolutions, I'd rather be happy and feel good with myself and change what needs to be changed when I'm ready to give it a go - which is not necessarily at the beginning of a new year, especially if it involves changes to my (sweet) diet. During winter, my body loves to keep a few more pounds on my hips, it's cold out there so it does so for a good reason. And anyway, I wear large wool sweaters most of the time, it's not summer yet and there's no bikini or walks on long beaches in sight. So I accept my pounds, I'll even feed them well, and enjoy what makes this time of the year so special: getting cozy on the sofa, sipping tea or hot chocolate and nibbling on some cake or dark, chocolaty muffins. The cookie cutters get a break and my cake tins and muffin trays are back on the counter tops. Happy New Year!

To add even more richness to my spongy muffins made with melted bittersweet chocolate and butter - no vegetable oil and cocoa powder for me - I fill them with dollops of creamy peanut butter. The nutty golden filling is almost liquid when the muffins are fresh out of the oven and still warm inside. I got hooked on the combination of dark chocolate and peanut butter when I made my Peanut Butter Chocolate Chunk Cookies in autumn, I knew it would come back sooner or later.

If you're up for another kind of muffin treat, try one of these:

• Chocolate and Orange Muffins

• Fig, Ricotta, and Olive Oil Muffins (if you can't find fresh figs you can replace them with chopped dried dates)

• Banana Muffins with White and Dark Chocolate

• Cherry Chocolate Muffins

• Blueberry Muffins

• Irish Coffee Muffins

• Blood Orange Marmelade and Cinnamon Muffins

Bittersweet Chocolate Muffins filled with Peanut Butter

Makes 12 muffins

• plain flour 200 g / 1 1/2 cups

• baking powder 2 1/2 teaspoons

• baking soda 1/2 teaspoon

• a pinch of salt

• butter 150 g / 2/3 cup

• bittersweet chocolate, broken into pieces, 100 g / 3 1/2 ounces

• granulated sugar 150 g / 3/4 cup

• organic eggs 3

• peanut butter, about 135 g / 1/2 cup

• icing sugar, to dust the muffins (optional)

Preheat the oven to 190°C / 375°F (preferably convection setting) and line the 12 molds of a muffin tray with paper baking cups.

In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt.

Melt the butter in a small saucepan over medium heat. Take the pan off the heat and whisk the chocolate into the melted butter until combined. Add the granulated sugar and eggs and whisk until well combined.

Pour the chocolate mixture into the bowl with the flour mixture and stir with a wooden spoon until you have a lumpy dough, with a bit of flour left here and there. Keep in mind, the more you mix it, the more it will lose its light texture. Drop 1 heaped tablespoon of the dough into each muffin cup and add 1 heaped teaspoon of the peanut butter on top. Cover each dollop of peanut butter with the remaining dough, then flatten it lightly with a tablespoon. Bake for about 20-22 minutes (slightly longer using conventional) or until the muffins are firm and spongy on top. Let them cool for 1 minute before you take the muffins out of the tray, sprinkle the tops with icing sugar (optional) and enjoy, preferably warm.

You can keep the muffins in an airtight container for a few days but I find them best on the first day.

New Year's Eve dessert testing and a heavenly favourite: Crêpes Suzette

After three days of cooking, feasting and chilling I could easily continue this life: just sitting under the Christmas tree, listening to Christmas carols, baking more cookies and pulling a roast duck or wild boar stew out of my oven. I know some people are happy when the craziness is over but I'm not one of them. I indulge in this time and its traditions and never want to let go of them again. Luckily, the next exciting event is right ahead - New Year’s Eve - and with it, a few choices need to be made. Apart from the main course, which I haven't really decided on yet but it looks like it's going to be seafood, there's another important dish waiting to be put on the menu: our dessert.

One of my all time favourite desserts is Tiramisu, I love it! It offers sponge soaked with coffee and brandy, creamy mascarpone and a hint of chocolate - it's perfect. Lemon Meringue Pie is another promising candidate, packed with citrus juices and fluffy meringue sitting on a buttery short crust base - delicious! Affogato would be the quickest and easiest solution, a spoonful of vanilla ice cream dropped into hot espresso. A Tarte Tatin, made with pear and star anise instead of apples, is quite a stunner. Although we already have a lemon dessert in this list, I can't stop myself from adding another one, Ricotta Pie with Lemon Syrup and Pistachios, a recipe by my friend Essa. It's so unbelievably good that I dreamed of it after I tried it the first time. I could also make my bittersweet Chocolate Tart with Whipped Cardamom Cream - just leave the cherries out or add a few orange slices instead. Before I include all the cakes and desserts I ever shared on eat in my kitchen, I'll stop for now and tell you what we will have: Crêpes Suzette! A bottle of Grand Marnier caught my attention and sparked the idea to stick to this sweet French classic to end this exciting year. I tested my recipe to avoid disappointment on this special night but it wasn't even necessary: The thin crêpes were golden and soft, the syrupy sauce full of orange flavour enhanced by a tasty amount of butter. And it's also quite spectacular as you can flambée it.

Crêpes Suzette

Serves 4 (makes 8-10 crêpes)

For the crêpes

• plain flour, sifted, 130g / 1 cup

• granulated sugar 25g / 2 tablespoons

• salt 1/8 teaspoon

• organic eggs 2

• milk 240ml / 1 cup

• butter, to bake the crêpes

For the orange sauce

• organic orange, rinsed, 1

• granulated sugar 60g / 1/3 cup

• freshly squeezed orange juice 120ml / 1/2 cup

• Grand Marnier 60ml / 1/4 cup

• butter 60g / 1/4 cup

• vodka or brandy, to flambée the crêpes (optional)

In a large bowl, using an electric mixer, whisk together the ingredients for the crêpes and mix until smooth. Let the batter sit for about 10 minutes.

In a large, heavy or non-stick pan, melt half a teaspoon of butter on medium-high heat. Pour in a ladle of the dough, holding the pan in your hand and turning it so that the dough spreads evenly and very thinly. The crêpes won’t need more than 30-60 seconds on each side once the heat is set right. When the crêpe is slightly golden on both sides, transfer to a plate, fold it in half twice so that it forms a triangle and set aside. Continue with the remaining batter until you have 8-10 crêpes. You should always melt 1/2-1 teaspoon of butter in the pan before you bake the next crêpe.

Grate the orange and set the zest aside. To cut the orange into segments, cut off the white pith. Hold the orange in 1 hand and use a small, sharp knife to cut between the membranes and release the segments, set them aside.

For the orange sauce, melt the sugar in a large, deep, heavy pan over high heat. When the sugar is golden brown and caramelized, slowly add the orange juice, Grand Marnier, and 3/4 of the orange zest and turn down the heat to medium-low. Stir and let the caramel melt completely, this will take a couple minutes, then add the butter and let it melt. When the butter is melted, bring to the boil then take off the heat immediately. Add one crêpe after the other to the pan, turning it in the juices and stack them on one side of the pan. Once all the crêpes are in the pan, spread them evenly, garnish with the orange slices and sprinkle with the remaining orange zest.

Optional: Add a generous splash of vodka or brandy to a small saucepan, light it up in the pan and pour it slowly over the hot crêpes, serve immediately.

Chickpea Potato Soup with Rucola Pesto, Lemon and Fried Chickpeas

A couple days ago, we left Berlin to visit the gardens of Sanssouci Palace a few miles outside Berlin. The palace used to be the Prussian king, Frederick the Great's summer residence, built in the 18th century. The building itself is beautiful but the terraced garden is stunning. I love being there in summer, when it's all lush, green and in bloom but there's a certain melancholic mood woven into the misty air on a cold, grey day that fits this time of the year perfectly. It's pure silence, no leaves left on the trees, the marble sculptures high up on their pedestals looking down on us, wrapped in jackets and scarves on our way to another one of the park's winter attractions, a Christmas market and its warming mulled wine.

When we got home I felt so frozen that I promised myself I'd make a rich soup the next day. I cooked canned chickpeas and potatoes in broth, puréed it into a velvety, smooth soup and sprinkled it with fresh rucola pesto, lemon zest and fried chickpeas. It's a great winter soup, thick and refreshing, and just right before tomorrow's feasting begins.

I wish you a wonderful and peaceful Christmas with your loved ones. Enjoy the moments of love, joy and good food! xx

Chickpea Potato Soup with Rucola Pesto, Lemon and Fried Chickpeas

You won't need all the pesto for the soup but I don't like making pesto in small batches. We used the remaining pesto to spread on toasted dark bread, which we enjoyed with the soup.

Serves 2-4

For the soup

• olive oil

• medium onion, chopped, 1

• garlic, crushed, 2 large cloves

• potatoes, peeled, cut into cubes, 250g / 9 ounces

• canned chickpeas, rinsed and drained, 250g / 9 ounces, reserve 4 tablespoons for the topping

• vegetable broth 900ml / 3 3/4 cups

• bay leaf 1

• salt

• ground pepper

• nutmeg, preferably freshly grated

• ground cumin 1/8 teaspoon

For the pesto

• rucola (arugula) leaves 60g / 2 ounces

• Parmesan 25g / 1 ounce

• pine nuts 25g / 1 ounce

• olive oil 75 ml / 1/3 cup

• salt 1/8 teaspoon

For the topping

• freshly squeezed lemon juice

• olive oil

• lemon zest

• black peppercorns, crushed in a mortar

For the soup, heat a splash of olive oil in a large pot and sauté the onion on medium-heat for a few minutes until golden and soft. Add the garlic and cook for 1 minute. Add the potatoes and chickpeas, stir and cook for 1 minute. Pour in the broth, add the bay leaf, and season with a little salt and pepper. Lower the heat and simmer, uncovered, for 20-25 minutes or until the potatoes are soft.

While the soup is cooking, purée the ingredients for the rucola pesto in a blender or food processor. Season to taste and set aside.

For the fried chickpeas, heat a splash of olive oil in a small, heavy pan on high heat. Add the reserved chickpeas, close with a lid immediately (the chickpeas will pop) and fry for 1 minute or until golden. Take the pan off the heat.

When the potatoes are soft, discard the bay leaf and purée the soup in a blender, food processor or with an immersion blender until smooth. Season with salt, pepper, nutmeg and cumin to taste, bring to the boil, and simmer for 1 minute, stirring constantly. Divide the soup between bowls, drizzle with a little lemon juice and olive oil and sprinkle with rucola pesto, lemon zest, crushed pepper and the fried chickpeas.

Mulled Wine Pretzel Cookies

My mugs haven't seen much mulled wine this season unfortunately. I had to go through the corrections of my book almost every single day of December and I didn't dare blur my mind and risk some silly mistakes - and annoy my editor Holly - by enjoying more than a tiny sip of the hot wine. I've been a really good girl up until now, but a couple days ago I gave in all the files of my manuscript so now I'm ready to indulge in the sweet pleasures of the aromatic red juices. A large pot full of wine, orange, black tea and spices (you can find my recipe here) filled my kitchen with the most tempting smell of Christmas and I happily enjoyed it under our Christmas tree. In tune with the season and its treats, I came up with an idea for a mulled wine cookie, crunchy like shortbread and shaped like a pretzel.

I only used a few tablespoons of the spiced wine for the dough as I didn't want to soften the shortcrust pastry too much. To enhance the Christmassy feel and taste, I added a spice mixture of cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg, all spice and orange zest to the dough. A pink glaze made of icing sugar and mulled wine sprinkled on top finished my Christmas pretzels off.

Happy 4th Advent! xx

Mulled Wine Pretzel Cookies

For the cookies

• plain flour 300g / 2 1/3 cups

• salt 1/8 teaspoon

• cinnamon 2 teaspoons

• nutmeg, preferably freshly grated, 1/4 teaspoon

• cloves, crushed in a mortar, 1/2 teaspoon

• allspice, crushed in a mortar, 1/4 teaspoon

• butter, soft, 160g / 2/3 cup plus 1/2 tablespoon

• organic egg yolk 1

• granulated sugar 130g /2/3 cup, plus more for sprinkling

• orange zest, freshly grated, 1 1/2 teaspoons

• strong mulled wine 3 tablespoons (you can find my recipe here)

For the icing

• icing sugar 100g / 1 cup

• mulled wine, about 2-3 tablespoons

For the cookies, combine the flour, salt, cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves and allspice in a bowl.

In a large bowl, beat the butter, egg yolk, sugar, and orange zest with an electric mixer until creamy and well combined. Add the dry flour mixture and the mulled wine and mix with the dough hooks of an electric mixer until combined. Divide the dough in half, scrape each half on a piece of plastic wrap and form both into logs then wrap tightly in the plastic wrap. Freeze for 15-20 minutes or until the dough is hard enough to cut with a knife.

Set the oven to 180°C / 350°F (preferably convection setting). Line 2 baking sheets with parchment paper.

When the dough is hard, take it out of the freezer. Cut thin slices off the log. Roll each slice to a ball between your hands then roll into a 24cm / 9 1/2" long pencil shape on a counter top. Twist into a pretzel and spread on the lined baking sheets, sprinkle with a little sugar. Bake in the oven for about 10 minutes (slightly longer using conventional setting) or until golden. Let them cool on the baking sheet for a few minutes before you transfer them onto a cooling rack. If you want to sprinkle them with icing, they have to be completely cool.

Whisk the icing sugar and mulled wine until well combined, add more sugar or wine to reach the desired texture, and sprinkle over the cookies. When the icing is hard, you can store the cookies in an airtight container for up to 1 week.

Persimmon and Orange Streusel Bars

I had cookie-like streusel bars on my mind but I couldn't help myself, they tasted too good, so I ended up cutting them into big pieces rather than petite bars. My idea was to combine a buttery shortbread base with crunchy crumbles and a sweet filling of puréed persimmons, orange juice and lots of fresh vanilla. The candied fruitiness was distinct although it was hard to guess which fruit it was exactly if you hadn't seen the overly ripe, jelly-like persimmons on my kitchen table.

It's already the 3rd Advent today and I still have quite a few cookie baking projects ahead of me before Christmas. Here's a list of a few recipes - my favourites -  which you'll definitely find in my cookies jars:

• Vanilla Kipferl

• Gianduja Chocolate Cookies

• Chocolate and Apricot Sandwich Cookies

• Lebkuchen

• German Linzer Cookies

• Mince Pies (they aren't cookies, but still taste amazing, I already baked my first batch)

• Maltese Lemon Cookies

• Granny Doris' Peanut Butter Cookies

• Ginger Orange Cookies

• Espresso Meringue Cookies

There are more recipes on the blog but I think I have to stop here for now, this is more than enough to keep our jars filled.

Persimmons and Orange Streusel Bars

Makes 12 large pieces or 24 bars

For the filling

• very ripe persimmons, pulp only, 500g / 17 1/2 ounces (about 3-4 persimmons)

• orange juice, freshly squeezed, 2 tablespoons

• honey 1 tablespoon

• vanilla pod, scraped 1/4

• a pinch of salt

For the dough

• plain flour 400g / 3 cups plus 2 tablespoons

• granulated sugar 200g / 1 cup

• vanilla pod, scraped, 1/4

• salt 1/4 teaspoon

• butter, soft, 225g / 1 cup

• organic egg, beaten, 1

Preheat the oven to 180°C / 350°F (preferably convection setting). Butter a 23 x 28cm / 9" x 11" baking dish.

For the filling, purée the persimmons, orange juice, honey, vanilla seeds, and salt in a blender or food processor until smooth.

In a large bowl, combine the flour, sugar, vanilla seeds, and salt. Add the butter and cut it into the flour with a knife until there are just small pieces left. Add the egg and quickly rub the butter and egg into the mixture with your fingers until crumbly.

Take about 2/3 off the crumbles and spread in the buttered baking dish. Push the dough firmly into the baking dish, especially along the edges. Spread the persimmon filling on top and even it out. Spread the remaining crumbles on top of the filling and bake for about 52 minutes or until golden brown (slightly longer using conventional setting). Let it cool for about 15 minutes before you cut it into streusel bars and take them out of the baking dish.

The streusel bars taste best on the first and second day. You can keep them in an airtight container for up to 4 days but they will soften.

meet in your kitchen | London: Jo Rodgers' Chocolate, Hazelnut, and Rosemary Pie

Jo's hands, an open book on a wooden table, and a cup of tea are the reason for this meet in your kitchen feature. A few months ago, I came across the Instagram account of this gorgeous American woman living in London and since then, I basically follow her activities every day. There is a kind of peace in her pictures that struck me immediately. In the beginning, her images often showed her hands turning the pages of her current favourite book surrounded by snacks and nibbles and a cup of warming hot chocolate or tea, or a glass of wine. And all this accompanied by her beautiful words describing the scene in her cosy cottage in the heart of London. Jo used to work as an editor at Random House and a literary agent at WME but, since she became a writer for Vogue a few months ago, her little Instagram stories shifted from books to exciting trips to the English seaside, the Provence, the English countryside, and - my favourite - a luxurious railway journey with the Belmond Royal Scotsman through Scotland. When she also started writing about cosy treats such as the perfect omelet, stuffed pumpkin, cranberry muffins, and mince pies, I knew I had to meet this woman during my stay in London a couple weeks ago.

Where shall I start, we planned to bake a pie together but I was late and London's light is not very forgiving. To avoid shooting this sweet beauty in the dark, her husband Andrew was so kind to take all the pictures of the pie. Thank you so much for that! In the end, the two of us didn't spend much time in the kitchen, instead we spent four hours chatting, drinking tea, eating delicious chocolate chip cookies baked by her husband (the poor guy must pray that I'm not coming back soon seeing how much work I caused him!), and we finished our afternoon with a walk through Belgravia. I call it her village, Jo showed me William Curly's fantastic chocolate shop/ patisserie, the Poilane bakery on Elizabeth Street, her butcher, flower shop, her pub and favourite restaurants. After an hour of strolling around with her, I could have moved to this quiet - not very London-like - neighbourhood.

Besides having a wonderful girls afternoon, I can say that I found a friend. Jo and I had never met in real life but as soon as the fair blond woman opened the iron gate that leads to the yard in front of her navy blue door, it felt like we'd known each other for years. Jo is very calm and humble and has an honest kindness that comes straight from her heart. Her life is extremely interesting and it's so exciting to hear about it, although she herself wouldn't agree on that. She lived in Australia, Chicago, Boston, New York City, and since 2010, London. Jo studied 19th century British literature and would love to write a novel one day if her busy life would offer a little more free time. She has a beautiful way of playing with words, which makes them flow like a smooth river. Reading her articles is fun, so much so that I can't wait to hold her book in my hands one day. So we made a deal, from now on I will start bugging her and asking her every few months if she started working on it.

Jo shares her delicious pie recipe with us: a rich, buttery Chocolate, Hazelnut, and Rosemary Pie - she calls it a grown-up pie!

You can read all of Jo's articles for the American Vogue here.

Jo Rodgers' Chocolate, Hazelnut, and Rosemary Pie

For the pie crust

• plain flour 200g / 1 1/2 cups

• salt 1/4 teaspoon

• cold butter, diced 115g / 1/2 cup

• cold water 60ml / 1/4 cup

• milk 1 tablespoon

For the filling

• hazelnuts (whole) 100g / 3/4 cup

• eggs, lightly beaten, 3

• light corn syrup 180ml / 3/4 cup

• sugar 200g / 1 cup

• melted unsalted butter 115g / 1/2 cup

• salt 1/2 teaspoon

• vanilla extract 1 teaspoon

• chopped fresh rosemary 2 tablespoons

• dark chocolate, chopped, 170g / 6 ounces

• 1 sprig of fresh rosemary, for the top of the pie

On a flat work surface, combine the flour and salt, then incorporate the cold diced butter with your fingers. Rub the butter into the flour until the butter pieces are no larger than the size of peas. Make a well in the center of the flour, and pour in the cold water. Using your hands, mix the water into the flour until dough is formed. Wrap the dough in plastic and put in the refrigerator for one hour.

Preheat your oven to 175 °C / 350°F.

Toast the hazelnuts in the oven until they begin to get fragrant, about 7 minutes. Let the hazelnuts cool, then rub off the skins; you can do this with your fingers or a cloth towel.

Roll out the dough wider than your pie mold (there should be plenty of dough for any size or shape of pie mold; mine is quite deep, and there is still quite a bit of dough left over). Gently lay the dough into the mold and trim the overhanging dough with a sharp knife. Put the pie mold back in the refrigerator while you make the filling.

In a medium-sized bowl, combine eggs, corn syrup, sugar, melted butter, salt, and vanilla extract. Stir in the chopped rosemary.

Take the pie mold out of the refrigerator, and brush the edges of the dough with milk. This will help the pie to brown nicely.

Spread the chopped chocolate evenly over the bottom of the pie. Pour the filling over the chocolate. Arrange the hazelnuts in concentric circles on top of the filling. Place the single sprig of rosemary in the center of the pie.

Bake for 50 minutes, until the pie is browned and bubbling. Remove from the oven and let cool for one hour before serving. Serve with a dollop of mascarpone or crème fraîche.

You moved from New York City to London nearly six years ago, and decided to stay. What do you love about this city and your life here? What turns a place into a home?

I love New York, but I think that London is the best city in the world. When I’m away for too long I get homesick, and when I see it again from the airplane my pulse jumps.A sense of community is what turns a place into a home. Neighbors you bump into at the bakery, friends you have over for supper. We have lived in one small area of London for the time we have been here, so we have been walking to the same florist, farmer’s market, chocolate shop, and so on for the duration. It is a comfort to know a place well, even if it is just your neighborhood.

What do you miss about America?

Our friends and family who live there.

You graduated from Wellesley College, an all-women’s university in Massachusetts, where you studied Victorian literature. What was it like being at Wellesley, and what drew you to your subject?

I was head over heels for Wellesley. Other than my husband, all of my closest friends are women. The strength of those relationships is due in part, I’m sure, to an education that placed the highest value on supporting other women.I was drawn to nineteenth century literature because I love novels, and that period was the heyday of the novel. I remember sitting in my dorm room with the windows open, curled in a chair with a piece of toast and Middlemarch (or The Woman in White, or Bleak House) and thinking—well this is heaven.

As a travel journalist, you get to see the most beautiful places. Which of your recent trips struck you the most?

I had a really wonderful time on the Royal Scotsman, a five-day train journey through Scotland. Having a whisky while watching the highlands go by is very difficult to top. The trip also begins and ends in one of my favorite cities, Edinburgh.

You were an editor for Random House in New York and then a literary agent at WME in London, where you worked with lots of fantastic cookbook authors. What did you love about working on books about food?

I have always been a great eater as well as a reader, so working on a few cookery titles as well as novels seemed like a natural fit. The company of other people who love to cook and eat is always such a pleasure.

How do you develop new recipes when you are writing for Vogue?

Slowly. I generally begin with a dish I know very well, consider whether there is anything that could be improved, and then stress-test the recipe for consistency quite a few times before it goes to print. I did a piece on cranberry muffins recently, and the whole neighborhood was eating cranberry muffins for a month.

What was the first dish you cooked on your own, what is your first cooking memory?

Sugar cookies from The Joy of Cooking. I lost my head in the spice cabinet (Curry? Nigella? Why not) and left a huge, inedible mess. My mother was not pleased.

What are your favourite places to buy and enjoy food in London?

We do the majority of our shopping within a few minutes walk of where we live. Daylesford for most groceries, William Curley for chocolate (the hazelnut and almond bark is my favorite), Polaine for bread, Partridges for wine, and our farmer’s market on Saturdays for meat and vegetables. Exceptions are dried pasta from Lina Stores, cheese from Neal’s Yard or La Fromagerie, and sourdough loaves from Brickhouse Bakery.If Andrew and I are eating out, we almost always go to a friend’s house for supper rather than a restaurant. Apart from the odd evening at Hunan, where they send course after course of the most brilliant Chinese food until you can’t eat any more (great fun when there is a larger group of people, and you’re absolutely starving), and the terrace at La Poule au Pot in the summer.For a rare treat, we might go to the River Café or La Petite Maison.

You share your Chocolate, Hazelnut, and Rosemary Pie recipe on eat in my kitchen. Is there a story behind this recipe?

The three main components are ingredients that I adore; working them into a pie was an excuse to have them more often. I love to serve this at dinner parties in the winter, when there is still some red wine on the table, because it is wonderful with wine.

If you could choose one person to cook a meal for you, who and what would it be?

My husband Andrew’s cavolo nero pasta with bread crumbs. I could eat it five nights a week. For something more exotic, anything cooked by Michel Guerard at Les Pres d'Eugenie.

You're going to have ten friends over for a spontaneous dinner, what will be on the table?

If I have a few hours notice, maybe a leg of lamb with gratineed potatoes, or beef bourguignon, because I so enjoy eating it. Always a few bottles of red wine, fresh bread, and a cheese course.

What was your childhood's culinary favourite and what is it now?

Spaghetti carbonara, which I still love. I have so many favorites now, but it would probably have to be roasted chicken (lots of butter, thyme, and lemon over the top) with a green salad, and some good bread to scoop up the jus.

Do you prefer to cook on your own or together with others?

I enjoy both. If I’m on my own I like to listen to something—opera or BBC radio 4, or maybe an audio book. When cooking with others, I like having someone else to taste things with.

Which meals do you prefer, improvised or planned?

Improvised.

Which meal would you never cook again?

I don’t think I have one. There are plenty of things that I’ve made a mess of, but I’m incorrigible and always want to try again.

Thank you Jo!

Roasted Garlic Butter Spaghetti with Thyme

The amount of garlic in this velvety, buttery pasta recipe sounds intimidating but if you let go of the idea of harsh, raw garlic and think of smooth, almost perfumed, oven-roasted cloves instead, it makes a lot of sense.

I used 22 large cloves, cooked in their skins in a hot oven. This kind of roasting turns them into a sweet, almost caramelized paste, so soft that you can mash them with a fork. I only mixed them with a bit of butter and salt and my pasta dish was almost done. Just young pecorino melted on top of the spaghetti - Parmesan would have been too strong and salty - and a few fresh thyme leaves and crushed peppercorns to balance out the sweetness.

It's a simple dish but there's something very sensuous and satisfying about it at the same time. If I weren't such a traditionalist, I could even consider exchanging my annual Christmas duck with this plate of pasta. A bottle of extravagant Bordeaux - bought without looking at the price, seeing that the dish itself wouldn't cost much - and my relaxed Christmas Eve would be sorted. However, I can't live without my slow roasted bird on the 24th December - which is Christmas in Germany. It was just a thought.

Roast Garlic Butter Spaghetti with Thyme

Serves 2

• garlic 22 large cloves (in their skin)

• spaghetti 200g / 7 ounces

• butter, soft, about 30g / 2 tablespoons

• flaky sea salt

• young pecorino, freshly grated, about 2-3 tablespoons

• fresh thyme leaves, about 2 tablespoons

• black peppercorns, crushed in a mortar

Preheat the oven to 220°C / 425°F (conventional setting).

Spread the garlic in a large baking dish and roast in the oven for about 25 minutes or until soft. Turn the cloves occasionally and mind that they don't burn. Let them cool for a few minutes, peel them out of their skins and transfer them to a blender or food processor.

Cook the pasta in a large pot in plenty of salted water until al dente.

Add the butter and a little salt to the garlic in the blender and purée until smooth. Season with salt to taste.

Mix the warm spaghetti with the garlic butter and divide between plates. Sprinkle with pecorino, thyme, and pepper. Season with salt to taste and enjoy!

meet in your kitchen | London: Clair Ptak's Pecan Caramel Sandwich Cookies

Walking down one of east London's quiet roads lined with cute brick houses on a Sunday morning was more than pleasing, but knowing that I would enter the private kitchen of one of the most acclaimed baking goddesses of the hour piqued my excitement. I flew to London to meet Claire Ptak from California who followed the love of her life to live in Hackney and start a baking business ten years ago. She learned her profession in Berkeley, at Alice Waters' legendary Chez Panisse, before she left California for Europe and opened a sweet stall at Broadway Market in London. Her baked goods were well received from the start, the long lines leading to her mobile shop got longer and longer every Saturday. Claire had to turn her cozy London kitchen into a busy bakery to keep up with the production, two days of hard work from the early morning until late at night before the weekly market day was her weekend routine for years. The huge demand for her utterly delicious cookies, cupcakes, pies and cakes called for a change and Violet Bakery was born. She opened a cafe in 2010 on the same street where she lives with her husband, and today it seems like this is the place that everybody is talking about when it comes to the best sweets - not only in London.

Claire works with only the best ingredients, often organic, and she respects the seasons. Something she learned as a child through her parents. Growing up in a village, an hour outside San Francisco, she picked fruit from the trees and bushes in their garden when they were ripe and foraged for mushrooms and wild berries when they were in season. Her mother used to bake so many pies with her that little Claire mastered the perfect crust and fruit fillings at a young age.

Claire has a confidence, intuition and calmness in the kitchen that impressed me as soon as she took out the baking sheets for her amazing pecan shortbread and salted caramel sandwich cookies - Alfajores, the most addictive sandwich cookies ever. She works instinctively and uses her years of experience and, as a creative mind, she takes it onto the next level. It's not a surprise that she has already written several cookbooks, as well as her own column for The Guardian and works as a food stylist for established authors, such as Jamie Oliver and Yotam Ottolenghi. And she has one of the best cookbook collections I've seen in a long time!

Claire Ptak's Alfajores – Pecan shortbread and salted caramel sandwich cookies

Makes about 12 sandwich cookies

For the cookies

• unsalted butter, softened, 250g / 1 cup plus 2 tablespoons

• icing sugar 100g / 1 cup

• salt 1/8 teaspoon

• plain flour 300g / 2 1/3 cups

• rum 1 tablespoon

• pecans, finely chopped, 70g / 2 1/2 ounces

• icing sugar for dredging

For the caramel filling

• double cream 150g / 5 1/4 ounces

• vanilla bean, scraped, 1/2

• water 4 tablespoons

• caster sugar 250g / 1 1/4 cups

• golden syrup 2 tablespoons

• lemon juice 1 teaspoon

• fleur du sel 1/4 teaspoon

• unsalted butter, cut into small pieces 65g / 1/4 cup plus 1/2 tablespoon

Cream together the butter, sugar, and salt in the bowl of an electric mixer. Add the flour and mix just to combine. Add the rum and pecans and just until it all comes together.

Preheat the oven to 180°C (160°C convection setting) / 350°F (325°F convection setting). Line two baking sheets with parchment.

On a lightly floured surface, roll your cookie dough out to about 3mm / 1/8" thickness. Use a 60-70mm / 2 1/2-3" round cutter (or a drinking glass will work too) and cut as many rounds as you can. You can re-roll to get a total about 12 sandwiches (24 individual rounds).

Bake until it just starts to colour. They should move out of their spot when nudged.

Sift over them with icing sugar whilst still warm and let them cool completely. Meanwhile, make the caramel.

In a heavy saucepan, measure the cream and vanilla. In another large saucepan put your water, sugar and golden syrup. Have the other ingredients measured out and ready to go. Begin by heating the cream. Keep an eye on this as it can scorch quite easily. Meanwhile start heating the water, sugar and golden syrup, all the while keeping an eye on the cream. As soon as the cream starts to bubble, turn it off. Do not stir the sugar pot, but you can swirl it if need be. Once it starts to colour, give it a few swirls. You want the sugar to turn golden brown and then almost black. A swisp of smoke will start to rise out and then you know it is done. Take the caramel off the heat and immediately whisk in the vanilla cream. Don’t worry about the pod at this point as it will continue to infuse flavour. Stir in the lemon juice, salt and butter until smooth. Allow the caramel to cool before using it in the cookies. Once the caramel is cool to the touch, it can be used. Caramel will also keeps well for up to two weeks in the fridge and three months in the freezer.

To assemble the sandwiches, turn 12 of the cookies upside-down and place a heaped tablespoon on caramel on top. Sandwich together with a second cookie. Sift over with a thick layer of icing sugar and devour! Will keep for two weeks in a cookie tin.

In 2010, you opened Violet bakery and café In Hackney, east London. What moved you to take this step?

I had been baking from home for 5 years but there was a moment when it had kind of taken over our home, so we decided to look for a location. Originally, I actually didn't want to have a café, I just wanted to have my stall and have that kind of nice creative expression of what I like to cook and bake, and then do my styling and writing. I was very happy with that but there was something, I don't know, the baked goods were so well received that it seemed crazy not to have a brick and mortar. I thought I could grow it a bit, get help, and hire good people, and I could still do the other stuff I wanted to do. Originally this was just going to be like a production kitchen for more markets but then the whole neighborhood was knocking on the door while we were fixing it up saying "this is so great, you're opening here!", so we thought "let's do that", it kind of came organically.

How did working as a pastry chef at Alice Water's Chez Panisse in Berkeley influence your creative work as a baker?

I was really inspired by how much they place value in the ingredients and the quality of the ingredients. That is kind of everything about what she does, it's really about eating things at the perfect moment and that could be like a day difference. So we were going to have something on the menu and we'd think "no, actually, those pears need another day to ripen", so we'd change the menu and do it tomorrow. And that kind of detail is so incredible when you're working in a restaurant because, so much of the time, in restaurants, it's just like "that's what we're doing, make it work, turn it out!". And there it was "we'll make something else and it has to be exquisite". Every single day everything changed. You'd have a guideline of what you're going to do but then, if things weren’t right that day, you'd change it to make it as good as it could be. So in terms of my aesthetic, because that's so integral to how I also cook, it's pretty natural because I think it's really about highlighting and emphasizing the ingredients but then making them feel professional but not mass-produced. If everything looks super homemade it's not special enough, it's nice to have something that's a bit of a stretch, so you'd think "I wish I could make it look that nice at home!" - it's about giving it a little extra lift and still being natural.

Have you always been more into baking than cooking? What fascinates you about baking?

I started baking at home, with my mum and my grandmother, when she'd visit or we'd visit them. I always had an affinity for the sweet side of things but my father is also a great cook and so I've always cooked as well. And now, with the bakery, it's been 10 years as a business, I'm drawn a lot more to the savory side of the kitchen. So we'll see, I think my next book is going to have lot more savory in it.

What fascinates most people about baking, is that you can start and finish a project in an hour. I think there's nobody who doesn't love the way that feels. To take an hour and just bake something is such a nice feeling of accomplishment.

What is the hardest part about running a bakery and café?

It's managing all the staff, even though I'm so lucky, I have such a wonderful crew of people, you still have fifteen personalities, sets of emotions, and lives that you have to work within and around. I very much want to create a space where people are happy to come to work and enjoy their work. Part of having an open kitchen was about that, I don't want to hide all my cooks in the basement. When people come in and buy the cakes the cooks just made, they get to see the reactions and appreciation. That's so much more fulfilling as a cook. But still, it's so challenging. Maintaining that good working environment and being a good boss is way more challenging than I ever imagined.

You studied film theory and video art at Mills College in Oakland, California. Although you didn't choose to work in this field, how did this experience influence your food business?

Mills is a women's college, it's a great place to be, and I loved studying video art and film theory there. I wanted to go into film making, I wanted to be a writer and director. So the writing has always been there, although I wanted to write film rather than cookbooks. Somehow I also did a lot of cooking when I was in university, I did a lot of films with food in them, and I would focus on that in my work. But I ended up working for an LA director for a year and I decided that I'd rather not do that. It was brutal work and the kitchen seems like a walk in the park compared. I think I wasn't passionate enough about it, I was more passionate about food.

You grew up in California, in the San Francisco Bay Area, and now you live in London. What made you move?

I grew up an hour outside San Francisco, quite a rural village, so we were picking wild blackberries and foraging, food was really central, which was great. Then I went to live in San Francisco for university and I loved the urban life as well. I was really drawn into it and I suddenly saw this whole other life. I loved the sort of country background that I have but then I really loved being in the city. I thought "this city is a small city and I'd love to see a bigger city". I met my husband in San Francisco who's from the countryside in England and we both thought it would be so great to live in London. So we moved here. It's very different but with starting my business and having a real California influence on my business, I managed to make my California life incorporate into my London life. I try to bring it all together and it worked out really well. I miss San Francisco and I visit it, and whenever I go back, I think "yes, let's live here" but at the end of three weeks I want to go back to London.

In the 1960s, your parents moved to a community of intellectuals and artists, how did this lifestyle influence your relationship with food?

Automatically, growing up with the seasons, having a real strong connection to nature, both cultivated and wild, because we also did foraging too, for mushrooms and berries, seafood, my brother is a great diver, you're already close to seasonal, organic, sustainable. All the stuff that everybody talks about and that's trendy, in real life, it's quite different. I realize, I'm very, very lucky to have grown up with that. I encourage that philosophy coming into mainstream but I would like it to be a bit more understood.

There's the best farmers' market in our (home) town because there are so many farmers and the weather is such that you can grow everything all year round. Just having that is pretty inspiring to cook when you have all that kind of raw ingredients around you. We had fruit trees and wild blackberries in our backyard, so my mum and I would make a pie because we had to get rid of the apples, and then, every year, you'd be so excited when the apples were falling outside. You had a real sense for when to do it and why to do it without having to have a theory behind it.

What are your favourite places to buy and enjoy food in London?

As a small business owner, I really value my local loyal customers who come to Violet for their morning coffee, and order cakes for special occasions. We feel so lucky to be part of a wonderful local community, and some of my favourite places in London are right on my doorstep! I regularly eat at Raw Duck, and love to browse J Glinert and Momosan Shop on Wilton Way when I'm passing by. If I'm meeting a friend for a drink after work, I love to go to Pinch on Greenwood Road.

Broadway Market will always be a special spot for me, as it's where Violet began and still has a stall every Saturday. It's a great place to pick up flowers, bread and organic produce for the bakery. I also love Chatsworth Market, which is where the wonderful London Borough of Jam - who suppliers our jam at Violet - is based. Spa Terminus is another seasoned favourite for beautiful ingredients from likeminded suppliers.

And for occasions, I always choose The River Cafe. The food is so special, it's totally worth travelling across town for. When I'm in meetings in central London, I'll often stop at Bao Bar, which is definitely one of the shining additions to west-central eating of 2015.

If you could choose one person to cook a meal for you, who and what would it be?

Richard Olney because he edited all these good cookbooks (the Time-Life book series), I would love to have met him. He was a great influence on Alice Waters and they were great friends, he was an American living in France. Olney cooked everything in a fire pit in the garden, anything that he would make, if it's a little piece of lamb and some beans, that's what I want. Or a salad, I would just love him to make me a green salad.

You're going to have ten friends over for a spontaneous dinner, what will be on the table?

My husband doesn't eat meat but he eats fish, so I love to just throw a fish over some potatoes, with some herbs, bake that, and make a salad.

What was your childhood's culinary favourite and what is it now?

As a kid, pie, I was obsessed with fruit pies. As we had a lot of fruit growing, we'd make pies all the time. I got really into getting the pastry right and getting the fruit right. I'm really loving English fruit cake at the moment, I think it's because of the season. It's cold outside and the cake is warming. I've just been developing this recipe for my new column (for The Guardian) with dried figs and whiskey, it's delish.

Do you prefer to cook on your own or together with others?

I love to cook with other good cooks, I can't cook with people that don't have the same level very well,it's not fun. I prefer to cook with my fellow chefs, I love it.

Which meals do you prefer, improvised or planned?

I like a planned meal, but it will still have a simplicity to it. I like to be organized.

Which meal would you never cook again?

I had a really hard time making fried chicken a year ago. I couldn't get the oil hot enough. I made a mistake of having a huge pot of oil because we had so many people, rather than just quickly frying it in less oil. And it was so frustrating, it tasted amazing but it was pale.

Thank you Claire!

Sweet Potato, Bacon and Poached Egg Sandwich

At the moment I'm living, literally, next to a tree - our absolutely beautiful Christmas tree. It's perfect this year. Lush and green, the branches thick and densely packed with needles, the straight tip rising close to the high ceiling of our living room. I'm in love with this tree. I decorated it straight after it entered our flat Saturday evening and we clinked mugs full of hot mulled wine to celebrate its arrival immediately. I moved my working space to the dining table, which is right opposite this beauty, and I have problems keeping my eyes on the screen of my laptop. In December, I feel like a distracted little child, all this glitter and sparkling, Christmas ornaments and cookie boxes - how are you supposed to keep your mind focused on anything else?

However, there was something that caught my attention: a wintery sandwich lusciously stuffed with fried sweet potatoes - not as crisp as normal potatoes but they make up for it with sweetness and flavour - salty bacon, poached egg and a little chopped rosemary made it complete. The composition is so hearty that I went for a dark bun sprinkled with linseed, sunflower and sesame seeds. It's a keeper.

Sweet Potato, Bacon and Poached Egg Sandwich

Makes 2 sandwiches

• olive oil

• sweet potato, peeled and thinly sliced (less than 1/2cm / 1/4"-thick), about 200g / 7 ounces

• fine sea salt

• pepper, crushed in a mortar

• bacon 3 slices

• organic eggs 2

• whole wheat buns, cut in half, 2

• fresh rosemary needles, chopped, a small handful

In a large, heavy pan, heat a splash of olive oil and fry the raw sweet potato slices on medium-high heat for a few minutes on both sides until golden brown and soft. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

Heat a little olive oil in a heavy pan and cook the bacon on medium-high heat for a few minutes until golden brown and crisp, set the pan with the bacon aside.

For the poached eggs, bring a medium saucepan of salted water to a boil and reduce the heat to a low simmer. Crack 1 egg into a small bowl. Hold a large spoon just over the surface of the simmering water and gently pour the egg onto the spoon. Lower the spoon into the water and hold for 3 minutes—use a second spoon to put the egg back into place if it slips. Lift up the spoon, let the excess water drip off, and carefully place the egg on a plate—you may have to gently scoop it off the spoon. Poach the remaining egg the same way, adjusting the heat as needed to maintain a low simmer. It’s best to poach 1 egg at a time, but you can cook 2 at once. Once the first egg cooks on the spoon for 1 1/2 minutes, let it float in the water— mind that it doesn’t stick to the bottom of the pan—and poach the second egg on a spoon. Take both eggs out once they’ve cooked for 3 minutes each.

Brush the bottom bun with the frying juices from the bacon, spread a few sweet potato slices on it and lay half the bacon on top. Finish it off with a poached egg, chopped rosemary and crushed pepper. Season with salt to taste (if necessary) and enjoy.

Rosemary & Lemon Heidesand Cookies

I don't know what I love more, the sweet, buttery smell of Christmas cookies coming out of my oven on a cozy Sunday or the woody, resinous smell of the gorgeous fir / Christmas tree that just took over my living room. I think I'll just move back and forth between my kitchen and the tree over the next four weeks and I'll be totally happy. There'll be more cookies and mince pies than we can eat, more mulled wine than we should drink and more cheesy Christmas carols coming out of the vinyl player than we should possibly listen to. But I don't care, I totally fall for this season and it makes me happy - happy 1st Advent!

I started my Christmas baking season with these simple looking but very aromatic bites. Based on traditional Heidesand cookies, a crumbly, buttery shortbread cookie mixed with fragrant marzipan, I refined the German Christmas classic with lots of lemon zest and chopped rosemary. It's the kind of treat that you can easily eat off a plate by the dozen, and it's also a quick one to prepare: I replace the usual 2 hours rest time in the fridge with only 15 minutes in the freezer. It works perfectly and you won't notice the difference. You just have to slice up the dough roll, bake it and enjoy.

In case you missed preparing your Christmas pudding on Stir-up Sunday - like I did while I was in London - here's the recipe. That's what I'll do now, happy stirring!

Rosemary & Lemon Heidesand Cookies

Makes about 60 cookies

• butter, soft, 200g / 3/4 cups plus 2 tablespoons

• marzipan, soft, 40g / 1 1/2 ounces

• granulated sugar 130g / 2/3 cup

• fresh rosemary, finely chopped, 4 teaspoons

• lemon zest, freshly grated, 2 teaspoons

• fine sea salt 1/2 teaspoon

• plain flour 260g / 2 cups

For the topping

• granulated sugar 50g / 1/4 cup

• fresh rosemary, finely chopped, 1/2 teaspoon

• lemon zest, freshly grated, 2 teaspoons

In a large bowl, beat the butter, marzipan, sugar, rosemary, lemon zest and salt with an electric mixer until well combined and creamy. Add the flour and mix with the dough hooks of an electric mixer until combined. Divide the dough in half and scrape each half onto a large piece of cling film. Form a 4cm / 1 1/2" thick log with your hands, wrap tightly in cling film and freeze for about 15 minutes or until the dough is hard enough to cut with a knife.

Set the oven to 190°C / 375°F (preferably convection setting). Line 2 baking sheets with parchment paper.

Combine the ingredients for the topping and spread them on a kitchen counter. When the dough is hard, take it out of the freezer, unwrap and roll it in the lemon rosemary sugar until evenly coated. Cut both rolls into slices, a bit less than 1/2cm / 1/4" thick, and spread the cookies on the lined baking sheets. Bake the cookies for about 8-9 minutes (slightly longer using conventional setting) or until golden. Let them cool on the baking sheet for a few minutes before you transfer them onto a cooling rack.

When the cookies are completely cool, you can store them in an airtight container for up to 1 week.

meet in your kitchen | Scones & Tea Time at Brown's Hotel in London

As soon as the charming doorman George opened the wooden framed glass door of the elegant Brown's Hotel in the heart of Mayfair, I found myself in another world - in old Britain. Brown's is London's oldest hotel, it was opened in 1837 by James Brown and his wife Sarah. It was here that the first UK telephone call was made by Alexander Graham Bell, President Roosevelt enjoyed the house's quiet luxury during his honeymoon, and it inspired Agatha Christie and Rudyard Kipling to many of their novels. With no doubt, this house has a glamorous history.

I celebrate my own little tea time at home every day, but for quite a while I've been in the mood for the complete English ceremony in all its extravagance at a traditional hotel in London. The stunning English Tea Room at Brown's Hotel  - renowned and awarded for serving one of the best tea ceremonies in the city - seemed like the perfect choice and I happily accepted an invitation by the hotel. It was an unforgettable Afternoon Tea of almost Roman proportions. Sophie and her fantastic team at the hotel treated me heavenly from the moment I set foot on the hotel's beautiful black and white mosaic floors.

While I sat at a long table, decadently filled with delicate pastries, scrumptious scones with clotted cream and jam, delicious sandwiches, Christmas fruit cake and calamansi chocolate yule log, I got the chance to chat with Lee Kebble, the hotel's Executive Chef, and Thomas Coly, the French Pastry Chef and the master of one of the best scones I've ever eaten in my life. Thomas Coly stole my heart with an outstanding Mandarin Chestnut Tart and a fine composition of blood orange and saffron - and of course, with his French charm. He learnt under the guidance of Alain Ducasse and praises his strict regiment in the kitchen. Thomas follows his patron's culinary philosophy: Respect the produce and focus on just a few dominant flavours, three at most. If you work with a ripe peach in the kitchen for a composition, you should be able to see a peach in your mind's eye with your first bite. The French chef misses his family in Toulouse but he loves the diversity of food in London where the culinary landscape is influenced by so many cultures from all over the world. He sees his role as a chef as that of an ambassador, to present his guests with the best produce, transformed into delicious dishes in his own style. Very British but with French finesse, like his scone recipe which Thomas graciously offered to share with us.

My splendid tea ceremony started with an introduction to the tea room's selection of 17 teas by a tea sommelier who helped me with my choice: the fine Jing's Gong Fu Tea. I also tried a few nibbles from the Tea-Tox, the healthy sister of the traditional afternoon treat, and although I don't mind dairy and sugar in my own diet, I enjoyed these treats just as much. But in the end, Thomas and I agreed that butter, eggs and sugar cause too much fun in the kitchen to cut them out of our lives.

When Lee Kebble came into the room I was more than impressed by his calm and kind nature, he seems like a rock in the kitchen. Leading a brigade of 24, he takes care of the famous HIX Mayfair restaurant, The English Tea Room, The Donovan Bar, private events and in room dining at the hotel, and despite all my expectations, he doesn't come across as a man who needs to raise his voice. He spreads an aura of confidence and competence, which is easy to trust. Lee's love for food started early, at the age of ten, when he used to meet with a friend on Sundays at one of their houses to cook extravagant meals - such as Coq au Vin - for their parents, with recipes from their personal bible - the Hamlyn cookbook. His own kids seem to follow his passion, they already love their family tradition of baking pancakes or waffles with their dad on Saturdays, or preparing pizza, bread or homemade pasta together. Lee learnt in the kitchen of the award-winning chef Anton Edelmann at The Savoy who had as much of a strong influence on his cooking as Mark Hix. He says he was thrilled by the vibrance of restaurant kitchens since he first stepped in at the age of 16. Mark Hix introduced Lee and his team to a special tradition that is held in the kitchen every two weeks: His suppliers fill a huge table with the best seasonal produce and Mark himself cooks and experiments with it all morning. He then invites the chefs from all his restaurants to compete with him in a 20-minute-cooking challenge. This way, they develop new recipes, learn from each other and evolve their skills. When I asked what happens to the unlucky ones who have a bad day or can't work under this kind of pressure, Lee gave a very British answer: "Their food will go to the staff's table, and that's also where they'll have to sit", and laughed. I love the British!

The five-star Brown's Hotel is one of ten Rocco Forte luxury hotels, and a stay in this house located at one of the city's most prestigious addresses is one of those special treats that you should allow yourself once in a while, even if it's just for one night. It's the kind of luxury that puts your mind at ease and let's you relax immediately. The hotel's wonderful team does an excellent job of fulfilling all your wishes - even the ones you weren't aware of.

Thank you Sophie, Lee, Thomas, and the rest of the Rocco Forte family!

Brown's Hotel Scones

Mind that the dough for the Brown's scones has to rest twice, for 4 hours, before you can bake the scones in the oven.

For about 12 scones

• plain flour 500g / 3 3/4 cups plus 2 tablespoons

• fine sea salt 1/2 teaspoon

• baking powder 1 tablespoon

• granulated sugar 100g / 1/2 cup

• butter, cold, diced, 100g / 1/3 cup plus 2 tablespoons

• whole milk 250ml / 1 cup plus 1 tablespoon

• sultanas 60g / 2 ounces (optional)

• eggs, beaten, 2, for the egg wash

In a large bowl, combine the flour, salt, baking powder and sugar, and beat in the butter with the dough hooks of an electric mixer or rub it in with your fingers. Gently mix until just combined.

Slowly pour in the milk and mix with the dough hooks of an electric mixer, mix in the sultanas (optional) before the milk is completely mixed into the dough. Leave the dough to rest in the fridge for at least 2 hours.

Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.

Roll the dough on a floured surface to a thickness of 2 1/2 cm / 1". Flip the dough upside down and cut the scones with a round 4cm / 1 1/2" cutter. Transfer the scones to the lined baking sheet, leaving space in between for the scones to rise. Brush the top of the scones with half the egg wash and leave to rest for 2 hours.

Preheat the oven to 200°C / 390°F.

Brush the top of the scones with the remaining egg wash and leave to rest for 5 minutes.

Bake the scones for about 8 minutes, then turn the tray and add another 6 minutes, or until golden brown. Enjoy warm.

Lee, you've been working with renowned chefs since the beginning of your career, first under the guidance of Anton Edelmann at The Savoy and now with Mark Hix at Brown's Hotel as the hotel's Executive Chef. What are the most important lessons you've learnt from these two mentors?

Firstly, with Anton Edelmann I developed a passion for food that wasn’t very prominent as I embarked on my career. At 16 I had no idea of what to expect, but was very quickly wrapped up in the atmosphere of The Savoy Hotel kitchens and especially in the presence of Anton Edelmann himself. Under his guidance I learnt and perfected classic culinary skills, but most importantly the respect for ingredients in their storage, preparation and cooking. This philosophy and care will never leave me.Working with Mark Hix has had a major impact on my career. The philosophy of food has a massive impact on the way I cook. Also working with Mark and his team has taught me a lot about organisation and developed me in areas that are generally not taught in other kitchens. The structure and organisational systems that are in place have helped me tremendously over the last 8 years. Mark has a different view of what is happening in every situation and it has been amazing watching and learning the thought processes he uses.

Thomas, being the Head Pastry Chef, you're also responsible for the sweet treats for one of London's most famous Afternoon Teas at The English Tea Room. What's so fascinating about this old English tradition? 

The Afternoon Tea is the showcase of an English tradition and is an institution, which is being realised with different interpretations. The concept of Afternoon Tea is fascinating, you can spend time as a couple, with family or on business, by being relaxed. I am personally proud to represent this tradition.

What are the main differences between working in the kitchen of a hotel or a restaurant?

Lee Kebble: Working in a hotel is an ever changing environment. There needs to be control over every outlet, at all times. The structuring of this is very important to ensure consistency over every area. That’s where the fun is in hotels though. No two days are ever the same, there’s always a request, a bespoke event, an afternoon tea promotion to look after.I think that in a restaurant you have what’s in front of you and the focus can be very clear, on the opposite hand in a hotel you have many angles to channel that focus.

Thomas Coly: Everything, the organisation, the quantity of production and the flexibility.

What do you love about the British cuisine, sweet and savoury?

Lee Kebble: I love the energy in British cuisine now, the demand chefs are putting onto UK suppliers to source and grow produce that has previously been ignored and left for our friends all over the world. The whole style is taking on a new approach and shedding the heavy, stodgy image of the past and pushing the boundaries with fresh, light and modern techniques using new ingredients. This really applies to sweet and savoury. I like the foraged and wild ingredients popping up, for example sea buckthorn which has allowed us to have desserts that mirror passion fruit and citrus flavours.

Thomas Coly: I’m French and like most French people I used to have a bad vision of the British cuisine, but I discovered, in England, we have excellent products.

How important is seasonal and local produce for your creations?

Lee Kebble: Our philosophy is all about seasonal and local produce. At HIX Mayfair we only use British produce. Elsewhere we use a more international array of ingredients but still keeping to the seasonal core values.

Thomas Coly: It’s very important, seasonal first and foremost, to make use of the products at their peak, when the quality is best, and local because we are the ambassadors of British food and it's our duty to represent and show all the local products to ours guests.

How do you develop new recipes? Where do you find inspiration?

Lee Kebble: Our suppliers are the true inspiration for our recipes and ideas. It all starts with them and we take their ingredients or products to where we want. They provide the sparks that create menus, keeping us at the forefront of seasonal changes and new / un-used products.Then secondly, the Hix team provides a huge and important part of generating ideas and working on new recipes. We have a bi-weekly challenge where we all cook for 20 minutes as many new and experimental dishes as possible, alongside Mark Hix. From here menus can be written, dishes tried and developed for later dates.

Thomas Coly: I start with the season first, the combination of flavours and then the textures. I find inspiration everywhere - in my experiences, my childhood, memories, travels …

Who has been your biggest inspiration in the kitchen? Who or what inspired you to start a career in food?

Lee Kebble: My family, no one in particular but all were equally supportive when I decided to take on a profession that was unknown and unheard of in past generations.Once I was in the kitchen it was Anton Edelmann and the Savoy kitchens that stoked the fire for me. I always remember my first week. I watched the sauciers working away in awe and knew I wanted to be like that.

Thomas Coly: My biggest inspiration in the kitchen was Alain Ducasse and his chefs with whom I learnt respect and sensitivity towards the product. I think it was my nanny when I was a kid who used to cook everything fresh, I still remember her making jam in the morning during my breakfast.

What was the first dish you cooked or baked on your own, what is your first cooking memory?

Lee Kebble: Coq au vin from the Hamlyn cookbook. Each week when I was around 10, a friend and I would go to each other's houses and cook for our parents. The Hamlyn cookbook was our bible and we tried many of the recipes.

Thomas Coly: The first dish I cooked was an omelette with my dad. My first cooking memory is when my mother baked a tart on a Sunday afternoon, it was amazing.

What advice would you give someone who wants to become a chef?

Lee Kebble: Be prepared for hard but extremely rewarding work. Adopt a can do attitude. Work with a smile because if you love your job you will never do a day’s work in your life.

Thomas Coly: My advice for those who want to become a chef is to have a passion above everything as it’s a very hard job and without the passion you can’t do this for sure.

What are your favourite places to buy and enjoy food in London?

Lee Kebble: I have always had a soft spot for Borough market and often go picking up goodies to cook for friends and family. Here, there is a real array of producers and treats to feast on.Other than that, I enjoy many varieties of restaurants. I like fresh and exciting flavours.Thomas Coly: I love Borough market, under the train station, and all different types of food. I love London for its diversity of restaurants, you can eat Chinese, English, Italian, French, Peruvian, Polish...

If you could choose one person to cook a meal for you, who and what would it be?

Lee Kebble: My Mum and it would have to be Christmas dinner! She makes the best!

You're going to have ten friends over for a spontaneous dinner, what will be on the table?

Lee Kebble: Lots of salads, probably homemade breads. I cook in the garden for most of the year so something from the BBQ is always on the go.

What was your childhood's culinary favourite and what is it now?

Lee Kebble: There’s a family lemon cheesecake recipe that was always the winner when I was younger, only ever for special occasions.Nowadays just simple seasonal fruits at their prime. You really can’t go wrong when at their peak.

At home, do you prefer to cook on your own or together with others?

Lee Kebble: I always involve my children as much as I can with cooking. I try to teach them to make pizza and homemade pasta. We bake a lot of fresh bread at home and it’s good to do this together.

Which meals do you prefer when you cook privately, improvised or planned?

Lee Kebble: There is fun in all aspects here. Sometimes the best meals are created with minimal ingredients at short notice.On the other hand there is such a reward in planning and executing a meal that has been carefully created.

Which meal would you never cook again?

Lee Kebble: Anything with tripe, sorry it’s just not for me.

Thank you Lee and Thomas!

Kidney Bean, Cumin, and Beef Polpette with Torta al Testo

I decided to fly to London for one day to meet a girl for a kitchen feature whose work I've been following for quite a while: Claire Ptak of the acclaimed Violet bakery. But then I started thinking about all the other inspiring people I know who also live there, so I felt tempted to meet a few more people for even more meet in your kitchen features. In the end, I met 1 baker from California, 2 kitchen chefs at the Brown's Hotel, 1 Vogue journalist, 2 bloggers, a friend from the fashion industry plus my publisher's team in London - all in 3 days. Now I'm back home, a little tired, but with fantastic, new kitchen features in my pocket and I can't wait to share them with you over the next few weeks.

There was a lot to organize before my departure to make my tight schedule work, so I couldn't spend much time on cooking, which my boyfriend happily used to take over our kitchen for a few days. One of his delicious and experimental creations was cumin polpette in a fruity tomato sauce. He used mashed kidney beans for the beef mixture, instead of the usual breadcrumbs and eggs, and kept some of the purple beans whole for the sauce. The texture of the floury legumes is perfect to loosen up the minced meat, the result is simply delicious. It was so good that we had it twice in a week, the second time with torta al testo on the side, Umbrian flatbread cooked in a cast iron pan, to stuff with the juicy cumin bean polpette and the aromatic red sauce.

Kidney Bean, Cumin, and Beef Polpette with Torta al Testo

You can find my torta al testo recipe here or you can serve the polpette with any other flatbread or ciabatta. If you want to make your own torta al testo, mind that the yeast dough has to rise twice. Once it's well risen, the bread only needs to cook for about 3 minutes in a hot pan.

Serves 2

• minced beef 400g / 14 ounces

• kidney beans (tinned), rinsed and drained, 250g / 9 ounces

• medium red onion, finely chopped, 1

• garlic, crushed, 2 large cloves

• medium fresh red chili, cut into tiny cubes, 1

• fresh coriander leaves 2 large handfuls

• ground cumin

• fine sea salt

• ground pepper

• olive oil

• tomatoes (tinned), 400g / 14 ounces

• pinch of sugar

Using your hands or the dough hooks of an electric mixer, mix the minced meat with a handful of the beans (squeezed until mushy), 3/4 of the onion, garlic, 1/4 of the chili, a large handful of coriander leaves (not chopped), 1 teaspoon cumin, 1 1/4 teaspoons of salt and a generous amount of ground pepper in a large bowl until well combined. Wet your hands and form 4cm / 1 1/2" meatballs, transfer the polpette to a plate.

Chop a small handful of the remaining coriander leaves and set a few whole leaves for the topping aside.

Heat a generous splash of olive oil in a large, heavy pan and cook the polpette with the remaining onions on medium-high heat for a few minutes until just light brown on all sides. Take out the meatballs and add the remaining beans (whole) to the hot pan, cook for 1 minute on high heat, stirring constantly. Add the tomatoes, chopped coriander leaves, 1/4 teaspoon of cumin, sugar, salt, pepper and 1/4 of the chili. Chop the tomatoes finely and transfer the polpette back to the pan. Stir gently, close with a lid and simmer for about 3 minutes on medium-low heat.

Season the sauce to taste and sprinkle with the remaining coriander leaves and chili. Serve the meatballs with torta al testo (or flatbread) on the side or inside the bread.