Pasta with Sun-Dried Tomato and Pistachio Pesto and a new Saturday ritual

We started a new ritual and that's to spend our Saturdays without any electronic devices, preferably in the countryside. It's just the two of us, no duties, meetings, parties or anything, we just go with the flow and see where our mood takes us. I can't even say which part of this ritual I enjoy more, the fact that we leave the city for a few hours or that I have 24 hours without emails, Instagram or any other social network activities. I love it.

Last Saturday we spontaneously decided to take the bus to the west of Berlin to have a cup of espresso in my aunt Ursula's kitchen. She and my uncle Uwe make the best coffee in town and whenever I announce our visit, I can be sure to find a few pieces of cake on their table - they know me well. The espresso tasted so good that I had to have 2 doppio, which made me a bit hyperactive and ready for the next adventure. We wanted to visit Berlin's best farmers market at Karl-August-Platz, but we got "stuck" on Kantstraße, a street famous for its Asian restaurants. We stopped at a restaurant that I've been wanting to test for years, but unfortunately, it didn't meet my expectations. We ordered 6 dishes and none of them really struck me. The problem with hyped food places in the city is that you expect something outstandingly amazing if so many people talk about it. So if it's just average, it's disappointing. Our dessert was ice cream from the supermarket, which I don't do very often, but it never lets me down and it's a reminder of lots of good childhood memories. Stuffed and happy we walked to a small lake and fell asleep in the warming sunlight. The whole scene felt a bit Roman: Two happy people after a lavish meal taking a nap on a blanket in the grass.

Revitalized, we drove back home, planning our dinner of white asparagus, fresh from the fields in Beelitz. It wouldn't be a proper Saturday if our plans didn't change with our mood. We stopped by at our favourite local wine shop to buy a bottle of rosé for our meal, but the little bistro tables looked so inviting that we couldn't resist sitting down for a glass of German Weissburgunder, some lemon olives, and an asparagus quiche. We got chatty and silly and stayed until 11pm, needless to say, we didn't stop after the first glass.

We haven't made any plans for next weekend yet, but at one point there will be this pasta dish on the table again, which I came up with last week and got hooked on. It's a quick pesto made of sun-dried tomatoes and pistachios, the combination is divine, and it's even better when it's stirred into warm spaghetti. It also works very well as a thick spread on rustic white bread, the perfect nibble along with a glass of chilled German white wine. There's one thing that our Saturdays have in common, there's often a bottle of good wine involved - la dolce vita for a day!

Here's my recipe for another sun-dried tomato pesto, with rosemary and thyme.

Pasta with Dried-Tomato and Pistachio Pesto

Serves 2

For the spaghetti

• dried spaghetti, about 200g / 7 ounces

• flaky sea salt, for the topping

• black peppercorns, crushed in a mortar, for the topping

For the pesto

• sun-dried tomatoes, preserved in salt, 50g / 1 3/4 ounces

• salted shelled pistachios 60g / 2 ounces, plus a few chopped pistachios for the topping

• olive oil 60ml / 1/4 cup

• garlic, crushed, 1 large clove

In a large pot, cook the spaghetti in boiling salted water until al dente.

In a small saucepan, cook the sun-dried tomatoes in a little boiling water for about 3-4 minutes or until soft. Reserve the water and rinse the tomatoes under cold water. Pat them dry with paper towels.

In a food processor or blender, purée the dried tomatoes along with 4 tablespoons of their cooking water, the pistachios, olive oil, and the garlic until smooth. Add more of the cooking water and olive oil if the pesto is too dry.

Divide the pasta between 2 plates and stir in some of the pesto. Sprinkle with chopped pistachios and season with flaky sea salt and crushed pepper to taste.

You can use any leftover pesto as a spread on bread.

Strawberry Mascarpone Panna Cotta

If I could choose between a cake or creamy desserts, I think I would always go for the cake. I just love pastries, no matter if it's buttery shortcrust, flaky puff pastry, soft sponge, or juice-soaked lady fingers in a trifle. The combination of flour, butter, eggs, and sugar is pure magic in my eyes. Since I was a child, I've always been the first at the cake buffet when we have our luscious family feasts, and I'm also the last one, when the platters are almost empty.

As I'm the one who's responsible for sweet treats at home - at least most of the time - we barely get to enjoy the dark depth of a mousse au chocolate, the sweetness of a vanilla scented Bavarian cream or a crème caramel. If my boyfriend could choose, it would be the other way around; we'd have cake maybe twice a year. He loves anything sweet, smooth, and creamy and if I want to spoil him a little, I make a panna cotta. The Italian classic is usually made with heavy cream and milk, but I like to sneak in some ricotta (like I did for my rosewater and pistachio panna cotta), or a little mascarpone, which fits perfectly to the juiciest strawberries I've found this year so far. A bit of fresh mint on top and these little beauties are done. When we have guests for dinner, I usually serve this dessert in small ramekins, but this time I went for wine glasses. The shiny red fruit looks really pretty in the bright panna cotta, it would be a pity to hide them.

Strawberry Mascarpone Panna Cotta

Serves 2 to 4

• gelatin sheets (7 x 11cm / 3 x 4") 2 1/2, or 2 1/2 teaspoons powdered gelatin

• heavy cream 240ml / 1 cup

• whole milk 120 ml / 1/2 cup

• a pinch of fine sea salt

• vanilla pod, scraped, 1

• granulated sugar 50g / 1/4 cup, plus more for the strawberries

• mascarpone 60g / 2 ounces

• fresh strawberries, hulled and thinly sliced, 140g / 4 ounces, plus 3-4 whole strawberries, quartered lengthwise, for the topping

• a few fresh mint leaves, for the topping

Soak the gelatin sheets in cold water for about 5 minutes.

In a small saucepan, bring the cream, milk, salt, vanilla seeds, and sugar to the boil. As soon as the mixture is bubbling, take the pan off the heat. Squeeze the excess water from the soaked gelatin sheets and crumble into the warm cream mixture; whisk thoroughly. Stir in the mascarpone and whisk until well combined. Leave the cream in the saucepan and let it cool at room temperature for about 30 minutes, whisking occasionally. Then chill the panna cotta in the fridge for about 1 hour, whisking 3-4 times, or until it starts to set.

Divide the sliced strawberries between 4 ramekins (120ml / 4 ounces), or 2-4 wine glasses, and sprinkle them with a little sugar. Divide the panna cotta between the glasses and chill for about 30 minutes or until set. Arrange the quartered strawberries and the mint leaves on top of the cream just before serving.

Strawberry, Chickpea, and Raw Asparagus Salad with Basil and Pink Peppercorns

Whenever I buy a new appliance for my kitchen, a bigger wardrobe for our bedroom, or a more powerful driller for the tool box, I always ask myself how I managed before the new purchase entered our home. I'm totally fine with having to deal with limited space or less satisfying equipment in the house, but give me the comfort of improvement and I'm hooked for life.

This is exactly how I felt when I got my new fridge last December. It's only the third fridge I have ever owned and although I can't really complain about its predecessor - it did a decent job for more than 15 years - it drove me crazy at times. Mainly because the space it offered and the food I tried to put inside it did not match at all. I love fresh food, I buy a lot of fruit and vegetables every week at the farmers' market, and all kinds of cheese, olives, capers, prosciutto ... and wine of course. There are only two people to feed but our food needs space. Thinking back, I don't know how I managed to store all the greens in my old fridge while I was working on my book a year ago, I have no idea. It worked, but now it's different, now I actually enjoy my fridge. A few days ago I came into my kitchen with lots of bags and baskets full of rhubarb, berries, asparagus and other spring produce and everything fit. I looked at this silver beauty and couldn't help but say "I love my fridge!". When Samsung offered me their Chef Collection for my kitchen, I was over the moon and I still feel the same. When you love food and cooking you truly appreciate having the right equipment.

So when I took a look at all the vibrant colours in my fridge, I came up with a salad that looks and tastes as bright and fresh as this season. I cut raw green asparagus very thinly and mixed it with a handful of arugula and canned chickpeas. A few fresh strawberries on top and a light vinaigrette made with orange juice drizzled all over and it was almost done: Some pink peppercorns added subtle spice and their distinct aroma. It was a very satisfying spring creation.

Strawberry, Chickpea, and Raw Asparagus Salad with Basil and Pink Peppercorns

Serves 2

For the dressing

• olive oil 3 tablespoons

• freshly squeezed orange juice 2 tablespoons

• white balsamic vinegar 1 tablespoon

• fine sea salt

• ground pepper

For the salad

• young green asparagus, trimmed, 4 stalks

• arugula leaves, 1 large handful

• drained canned chickpeas, 2 handfuls

• fresh strawberries, cut into quarters, 6

• a few fresh basil leaves

• a few pink peppercorns

For the dressing, in a small bowl, whisk the olive oil, orange juice, and vinegar and season with salt and pepper to taste.

Cut off the heads of the asparagus and cut them in half lengthwise. Using a mandoline, a cheese slicer, or a sharp knife, cut the asparagus stalks into long, very thin slices.

In a large bowl, arrange the arugula, asparagus, chickpeas, and strawberries in layers and drizzle with the dressing. Sprinkle with pink peppercorns and basil and serve immediately.

Cardamom Churros on the table and my German book is ready for pre-order!

I almost live in my kitchen, day and night, at least that's how it seems at the moment. Although I'm used to spending a lot of time in this room - and I love it, that's the reason I started this blog - but I barely see anything other than my pots and pans right now. I was asked to develop a bunch of recipes for a project (which I can't talk about yet) and this task ties me to my kitchen again, just like a year ago when I worked on my book. It's so funny that some things tend to repeat annually and you don't really know why. It becomes a theme without a deeper sense to it. So I accept, it's the second year in a row that I spend the month of May developing, cooking, and shooting recipes and producing more food than two people can possibly eat. But luckily, our friends are more than pleased about these circumstances. I cook and bake and they indulge in plates of cakes, roasts, seafood dishes, and salads.

Although I basically do exactly the same as last year, it feels different. It's not my book, these aren't my blank pages that I have to fill. I have to accommodate someone else's vision, which is fine as I have complete freedom with the recipes. But when it comes to taking the photos, I have to match my own ideas with the visual concept that my partner in crime brings to the table. It works surprisingly well but when it comes to the amount of sauce - as banal as it may seem - there are worlds between us. I like it a bit less soggy, however, my creative supervisor prefers more juices on the plate. We compromise and meet in the middle.

The fruits of last year's kitchen work are getting closer and closer to coming to the analogue world - the Eat In My Kitchen book is at the printing press! After I shared the Amazon.com and Amazon.co.uk pre-order links for the English book a few weeks ago, it's time for the big announcement for my German readers: Eat In My Kitchen - Essen, Kochen, Backen und Genießen is ready for pre-order on Amazon.de! It will be published on the 26th September, a few days before the English book (on the 4th October). The cover picture is the same as the English book and we also kept the subtitles quite similar. Apart from the last word, 'to treat' in English (einladen / verwöhnen in German) became 'genießen' (meaning 'to enjoy'), the books are the same and both completely written by myself (I was offered a translator for the German version but that felt a little weird).

My book emerged out of this blog, which is all about cooking, baking, eating, treating, and enjoying the pleasures created in this marvelous space - my kitchen!

One of the latest creations I passionately enjoyed from my kitchen were churros, the famous Spanish fried pastry snack. It was the first time ever that I made them and I was impressed how easy they are to prepare and how good they taste when they are made at home. Fresh out of the boiling oil, soft inside and golden and crisp on the outside, I tossed and coated them with aromatic cardamom sugar and ate them warm with fresh strawberries. The combination is perfect as it balances the churros' richness with a bit of sour-sweet fruitiness.

I love my kitchen, especially when it produces such deliciousness.

Cardamom Churros

Serves 4

For the topping

• granulated sugar 150g / 3/4 cups

• ground cardamom  1 1/2- 2 teaspoons

For the churros

• sunflower oil, for frying, about 1,3l / 5 1/2 cups

• water 350ml / 1 1/2 cups

• olive oil 2 tablespoons

• granulated sugar 1 tablespoon

• fine sea salt 1/4 teaspoon

• plain flour 200g / 1 1/2 cups

• organic egg 1

For serving

• fresh strawberries

For the topping, combine the sugar and cardamom and spread on a deep plate.

In a large, heavy pot or Dutch oven, heat the sunflower oil over medium-high heat.

In a large saucepan, bring the water, olive oil, sugar, and salt to the boil. Take the pot off the heat, add the flour, and, using a wooden spoon, stir vigorously until smooth and the dough comes away from the side of the saucepan. Transfer the dough to a large bowl and let it cool for about 10 minutes. Using a spoon, beat in the egg and mix until well combined.

When the oil is hot – dip in the bottom end of a wooden spoon, little bubbles, should form around it – fill the dough in a pastry bag fitted with a large open-star tip (about 1cm / 3/8"). Carefully squeeze the dough into the hot oil and snip it off when the churro is about 7cm / 2 3/4" long. Fry about 5-8 churros at a time, depending on the size of your pot, and turn them a few times, using 2 large spoons. The churros should be done and golden after about 4-5 minutes. If they turn dark quicker, turn down the heat a little. Take them out with a slotted ladle and transfer them to the plate with the cardamom sugar. Toss and coat them and keep them in a large bowl while you continue frying the remaining dough. Serve warm with fresh strawberries - and preferably with a dark espresso.

Churros taste best on the first day. You can freeze them once they are fried, but they become a little rubbery (my aunt still enjoyed them though).

Zucchini Cheese Fritter Sandwich with Strawberries and Lemon Balm

A lusciously filled sandwich will always excite me. It only needs the right combination of flavours and textures to lift this comfort treat to new heights. Playing with contrast is a good way to start: soft and crunchy, fresh and creamy, sweet and salty - there are endless possibilities to create a little firework between two slices of bread.

If you follow the seasons, you can find inspiration in the pantry during the colder months of the year or while strolling through the farmers's market to see what nature offers as soon as it gets warmer. And that's what I did. Although I can find zucchini all year round, it's only at the peak of spring that squash is finally packed with sweetness again. Mine comes straight from the fields in Italy and it has all the qualities it needs to become golden fried fritters. Mix in some cheese and lemon balm and you have a fragrant little snack on your plate. My cheese of choice is Leerdammer, which worked so wonderfully well in my Grilled Persimmon, Ham, and Cheese Sandwich. It's not too overpowering next to the zucchini yet adds its particular subtle sweetness. Bringing in lemon balm makes it fresh and citrusy. And don't be distracted by the strawberries graciously arranged on top, it may seem a bit brave but their sweet-sour fruitiness makes the composition complete.

This sandwich is just right for a decadent breakfast, a springy lunch, or a cozy dinner enjoyed on the sofa. And it works just as well without the bread: arrange the warm zucchini cheese fritters on plates along with fresh strawberries, sprinkle with lemon balm, and scatter some grated cheese and pink peppercorns all over this colourful feast.

This post is sponsored by Leerdammer.

Zucchini Cheese Fritter Sandwich with Strawberries and Lemon Balm

Makes 3 sandwiches

For the zucchini cheese fritters

• zucchini, grated, 450g / 1 pound

• fine sea salt

• spring onions, the green only, thinly sliced, 2 (about 2 tablespoons)

• mild hard cheese, freshly grated, 30g / 1 ounce

• organic egg, lightly beaten, 1

• fresh lemon balm, finely chopped, 1 tablespoon

• a generous amount of ground pepper

• plain flour 40g / 1/3 cup

• olive oil, to cook the fritters

For serving

• fresh ciabatta, about 6 slices

• rucola 1 handful

• Leerdammer cheese, thinly sliced, about 6 slices

• ripe strawberries, hulled and cut in half lengthwise, 6

• pink peppercorns

• fresh lemon balm, about 9 leaves

For the zucchini cheese fritters, in a large bowl, combine the grated zucchini and 1 teaspoon of salt. Rub the salt into the squash and let it sit for 10 minutes. Drain the zucchini and squeeze it in your hands. Spread the zucchini on a kitchen towel, cover with a second towel, and squeeze out any remaining liquid.

In a large bowl, combine the zucchini, spring onion, grated cheese, egg, chopped lemon balm, pepper, and 1/4 teaspoon of salt. Add the flour in batches and mix with your hands or a large spoon until well combined.

In a large, heavy pan, heat a generous splash of olive oil over medium-high heat. Working in batches, add 2 tablespoons of the zucchini mixture for each fritter to the pan; give the fritter a round shape and flatten it lightly. Cook for 2-3 minutes or until golden brown, flip the fritters over, and turn down the heat to medium. Cook for another 2-3 minutes or until golden brown. Transfer the fritters to paper towels and cover with a lid while cooking the remaining fritters, add more oil if necessary. This makes about 6-7 zucchini fritters.

For the sandwiches, spread a little rucola on 3 slices of bread. Cover each slice with 2 slices of cheese and 2 warm fritters and finish it off with 4 strawberry halves. Sprinkle with pink peppercorns and a few lemon balm leaves and close with a slice of bread. Squeeze the sandwich - gently - and enjoy.

Blueberry Victoria Sponge Cake, London, and my first book presentation

London welcomed me with blue skies and the brightest sunshine - the city looked like a blossoming beauty as I stepped off the train. It was supposed to be a two day work trip but spring temperatures made it feel like a little holiday. Great food and wine and the company of wonderful people almost made me forget why I went to the capital: my publisher's London team invited me to present my Eat In My Kitchen book for the first time at the Photographers' Gallery. To say that I was nervous, is a slight understatement. I drove the people around me crazy in the past few days! We just finished the last edits for my book this week, which means I can't change anything anymore and I'm not yet sure if I like this feeling. Now I have to learn to let go. But the thought of talking about it in front of 30 people straight after closing the last pages of my book to send it to the printing press felt a little overwhelming.

I booked an early flight on Wednesday morning so that I'd have the day to myself. I wanted to have enough time to meet a couple special people. My first stop was the gorgeous Brown's Hotel in Mayfair where I stayed for the night. My last visit to London - and a scrumptious meet in your kitchen tea time feature - made me fall in love with this wonderful hotel. It's the perfect choice when you need a relaxing place to stay during a busy trip. London is like a beehive but Brown's Hotel is the calm oasis you can go back to to rest. Thank you Sophie Grounds for making me feel so good again!

A stroll through the sunny streets of Mayfair took me to busy Oxford Street and the charming building of Selfridges. I came here to visit Melissa Hemsely at the sisters' brand new Hemsely + Hemsley Café located on the third floor of the luxury department store. It's a cozy place that's only been open for a month and it was totally packed. All the tables were taken and I saw lots of happy faces enjoying beautiful dishes from the girl's books, like quinoa roasted vegetables with basil pesto (delicious!), salmon burger with lime slaw, and the sisters' fantastic sweets. We chatted about our books - they just published their second book called Good + Simple - and I also got to try a wonderfully juicy banana cake that's not on the menu yet.

Spitalfields was next, and here I met a man whose work I've admired for quite a while and who I got to know through another one of my meet in your kitchen features: Sami Tamimi. This man is a great inspiration, he's open and charismatic and he talks with a warm, calm voice. Sami seems to smile the whole time, genuinely, and it felt like I've known him for years. He gave me such a flattering quote for my book and I wanted to thank him in person. Sami invited me to the latest addition to the Ottolenghi restaurants, their deli in the heart of Spitalfields that opened just a year ago. The place is bright and airy and the long counter right at the large window front is filled with the most beautiful food you can imagine. No one presents food as tempting, lush and perfect as the Ottolenghi crew. Large bowls filled with colourful salads and vegetables, the freshest meat platters, and piles of colourful meringue, delicate tartlets, and cakes dripping with thick icing turn this room into a food lover's paradise. I was in heaven.

Sami constantly works on new creations and tries the food prepared by his team working in and for the five restaurants, he's an absolute perfectionist. There was a little banana cake on a plate of six that he spotted, it wasn't as straight as the other ones, so it had to go - right into my mouth, I didn't mind. Seeing him in this environment, surrounded by the food he creates with so much passion and perfection, made me understand why he's so successful and why guests from all over the world love the Ottolenghi restaurants so much. The vision that the team behind Ottolenghi once had, has been brought to life completely. There's no compromise and that makes it so good. Before I left, we exchanged spices, and when I stepped out onto the street I felt a little sad to leave.

My dinner plans took me to an old, traditional pub, The Grenadier in Belgravia. It was an early night, I enjoyed my obligatory fish & chips and a glass of wine to the fullest and went to bed early - I had an exciting day ahead.

On the morning of my presentation, I felt like a student going to her exams, but after a few minutes of talking I was fine again - as always in life. The Photographers Gallery was the perfect surrounding and I can only recommend visiting one of their great exhibitions when you're in town. Unfortunately, I didn't have time for the arts but I had a lovely crowd to talk to about my book instead, which felt even better. Thank you everybody at Prestel for inviting me and for making me feel so welcome. It was a pleasure to meet you, Andrew, Emma, Oliver, Lincoln, and Will!

My London days called for a traditional British treat when I was back home in Berlin, ready for a cozy weekend on the sofa: a simple Victoria Sponge cake refined with lemon zest, filled with plump blueberries, jam, and whipped cream. It's an honest, uncomplicated treat that fits perfectly after a week of lots of excitement.

Blueberry Victoria Sponge Cake

You'll need 2 18cm / 7" springform pans for this cake. If you only have one pan (like me), divide the ingredients in half and prepare and bake one cake after the other. For the 3 eggs, beat them lightly and then divide in two equal portions.

For the sponge cake

• plain flour 145g / 1 cup plus 2 tablespoons

• cornstarch 15g / 2 tablespoons

• baking powder 1 teaspoon

• a pinch of salt

• butter, at room temperature, 160g / 2/3 cup plus 1 tablespoon

• granulated sugar 160g / 3/4 cup plus 1 tablespoon

• freshly grated lemon zest 2 teaspoons

• vanilla bean, scraped, 1/2

• organic eggs 3

For the filling

• blueberry jam, lightly beaten, about 4 tablespoons

• fresh blueberries 120g / 4 ounces, plus a few berries for the topping

• heavy cream, whipped, about 120-180ml / 1/2-3/4 cup

• icing sugar, for the topping

Preheat the oven to 180°C / 350°F (conventional setting) and butter 2 18cm / 7" springform pans.

For the sponge cake, in a large bowl, combine the flour, cornstarch, baking powder, and salt.

In a large bowl, using in electric mixer, beat the butter, sugar, lemon zest, and vanilla seeds until light and fluffy. Add the eggs, one at a time, mixing well in between. Using a wooden spoon, fold the flour mixture into the butter mixture until well combined.

Divide the batter between the two buttered springform pans and make a slight dip in the middle of each of them (to prevent the cakes from rising too high in the middle). Bake in the oven for 20-25 minutes or until golden and spongy. Check with a skewer, it should come out clean. Take the cakes out of the springform pan and let them cool completely (about 15-20 minutes).

Transfer 1 sponge cake to a plate and cut off the tip if it rose to high, it shouldn't be too pointy but it doesn't need to be completely even either. Brush the top generously with jam and spread the blueberries on top. Spread the whipped cream all over the berries and sandwich with the second sponge cake (you don't have to even this cake out). Dust the cake with a little icing sugar and, if you want to decorate it with blueberries, dip the berries in the jam and stick them on top of the cake.

Potatoes with Cinnamon Hummus, Basil, and Prawns

When I have a bowl of hummus in front of me, I grab the biggest spoon I can find and enjoy this creamy, nutty deliciousness with inexplicable enthusiasm. I don't know where this fascination comes from, I only discovered this Middle Eastern dip relatively late in my kitchen, but I'm obsessed with it.

Most of the time I'm not even very experimental, I just stick to my basic recipe, but sometimes my mood calls for a little change. I either replace the chickpeas with white beans, stir in some fresh or dried herbs, or I try less pleasant combinations that I never ever want to taste again (like my avocado hummus - disastrous!). There must be something in the tahini - the rich, oily sesame sauce that's used for hummus - its nutritional value, that my body is almost addicted to. I can eat the thick, pure sauce by the spoon, straight out of the jar. It's strange.

One of my latest experiments led to a very simple yet absolutely scrumptious result: a generous amount of ground cinnamon and a pinch of ground cumin. The spices enhance the dip's sweetness and give it a warm and earthy touch. You don't actually taste them, they merge with the other ingredients and create a new flavour, which makes me want to eat even more of it. To accomplish the sweet side of the hummus, I added sliced boiled potatoes (warm or cold, both work), fresh basil, and a few prawns. It felt like summer on a plate and reminded me of a similar Mediterranean meal we had in Malta last year.

Potatoes with Cinnamon Hummus, Basil, and Prawns

Serves 4

For the hummus

• drained and rinsed canned chickpeas, 240g / 8 ounces

• tahini 150g / 5 ounces

• water 120ml / 1/2 cup

• freshly squeezed lemon juice 4 tablespoons

• garlic, crushed, 1 large clove

• ground cinnamon 1/4 teaspoon

• ground cumin 1/8 teaspoon

• fine sea salt about 1 teaspoon

For serving

• olive oil

• prawns, the heads cut off, 8-12

• boiled potatoes (warm or cold) 8-12

• flaky sea salt

• black peppercorns, crushed in a mortar

• fresh basil leaves, a small handful

For the hummus, purée the ingredients in a blender and season with cinnamon, cumin, and salt to taste.

In a large pan, heat a splash of olive oil over high heat and sear the prawns for 1-2 minutes per side or until cooked through.

Arrange the sliced potatoes on 1 large platter or on 4 small plates, drizzle generously with the hummus and additional olive oil, and season to taste with flaky sea salt, crushed pepper, cumin and cinnamon. Place the prawns on top, sprinkle with basil and enjoy immediately.

Strawberry White Chocolate Breakfast Cake

This is such a kiddy cake: it's light and fluffy, sweet and juicy, and packed with soft strawberries and creamy white chocolate. And although my childhood days are long over, I love this cake. I would even call it my favorite spring cake (for the time being, until my next discovery). And the fact that it's so easy to prepare - you just have to roll out of bed on a lazy Sunday morning and throw it all together - makes it a perfect weekend breakfast cake.

The combination of the ripe red berries and the milky chocolate works unbelievably well in a cake. I'm familiar with this duo in ice cream and other sweet snacks, but it never struck me as much as in this composition. I was worried that the sweetness could be a little overpowering, but there was no reason to worry, it was still balanced. In fact, this cute little teaser tastes so good that it was gone in less than 24 hours. I wanted to freeze a few pieces - my new habit to eat a little less sweets - but it was hopeless. One piece after the other kept disappearing until the last crumbs were gone and the plate looked almost clean. I think if I could choose between a plate full of cake or a little less on my hips, I'd always go for cake.

Strawberry White Chocolate Breakfast Cake

Makes 1 cake

• plain flour 130g / 1 cup, plus 1 tablespoon for the strawberries

• cornstarch 30g / 1/4 cup

• baking powder 1 heaping teaspoon

• fine sea salt 1/8 teaspoon

• butter (at room temperature) 160g / 2/3 cup plus scant 1 tablespoon

• granulated sugar 100g / 1/2 cup

• vanilla bean, scraped, 1/2organic eggs 3

• fresh strawberries, cut into cubes, 150g / 5 ounces

• white chocolate, chopped, 100g / 3/1/2 ounces

For the topping (optional)

• icing sugar or finely grated white chocolate 1 tablespoon

• fresh strawberries 3-4

Preheat the oven to 180°C / 350°F (preferably convection setting) and butter a 20cm / 8″  springform pan.

In a large bowl, combine the flour, cornstarch, baking powder, and salt.

In a second large bowl, using an electric mixer, beat the butter, sugar, and vanilla seeds until light and fluffy. Add the eggs, one at a time, and mix well in between. Continue mixing for 2 minutes or until the mixture is thick and creamy. Quickly mix in the flour mixture until combined. Mix the strawberries with 1 tablespoon of flour and add, along with the chopped white chocolate, to the batter. Using a wooden spoon, gently fold in the berries and chocolate until just combined. Scrape the batter into the buttered springform pan, even it out, and bake for 40-45 minutes (slightly longer if using a conventional oven) or until golden on top. Check with a skewer, it should come out clean. Let the cake cool for a few minutes before you take it out of the springform pan.

Sprinkle the cool cake with icing sugar or grated white chocolate and decorate with strawberries.

meet in your kitchen | Somer Sivrioglu's 'Anatolia', Sydney, and Cheese and Egg Pizza

Some books make you fall in love with its captivating pages from the moment you lay your hands on it. Anatolia, by Somer Sivrioglu and David Dale, is one of them. This outstandingly beautiful cookbook is rich in pictures, stories, and recipes. It takes you to another world of flavours, ingredients, and unknown combinations and it makes you want to go straight to your kitchen to bring this exciting new discovery right into your home - or at least a bite of it.

The first recipe I tried from this book, was pide, thin Turkish pizza. Somer makes it with an aromatic minced lamb topping, which is divine, however, when I gave it a second go, I sneaked in a dark Provençal olive tapenade, and shared it on eat in my kitchen. Somer liked my version so much that he shared it on Facebook, we started chatting, and here's the result: Our cross-continental Berlin-Sydney meet in your kitchen feature!

My guest grew up in Turkey, in Istanbul, where he lived with his family until he was 25. But one day, the young man decided to explore life on the other side of the world and moved to Sydney. His dream came true and he started an impressive career in food that led to two fantastic restaurants and an award-winning cookbook. Somer runs the popular Efendy that opened in 2007, featuring contemporary Turkish cuisine in the Balmain district. Anason - his second 'baby' - was next, which only just opened its doors to the public world, but it's already one of Sydney's new culinary hot spots.

This man is busy and I don't know how he managed to write a cookbook on top of his packed schedule as a chef, but he did, and the result takes the globe by storm: Anatolia: Adventures in Turkish Cooking won the prestigious international IACP award (former winners are luminaries such as Thomas Keller, Claudia Roden and Julia Child). I'm sure it will keep its place in the front row of my book shelf for quite a while. Somer is a passionate chef, he loves food, and this shines through in every project that he pulls onto his table. Congratulations!

My weak spot for Turkish pizza made me go for another pide recipe from Somer's book, which I share with you today: slim pide filled with an aromatic cheese mixture of 4 different cheeses, green pepper, tomato, and a baked egg. This dish calls for a relaxed dinner on the balcony or in the garden, with a glass of chilled crisp white or rosé wine and a fresh salad on the side. May only the temperatures rise and summer begin!

Pide with Four Cheeses

Serves 4

For the dough

• dry yeast 1 tablespoon

• water, lukewarm, 50 - 100ml / 3 1/2 tablespoons - 1/3 cup plus 1 tablespoon

• granulated sugar 1 teaspoon

• plain flour 300g / 2 1/3 cups

• strong flour 150g / 1 cup plus 2 tablespoons

• whole milk, lukewarm, 50ml / 3 1/2 tablespoons

• salt 1 teaspoon

For the cheese filling

• 4 cheese-mixture, grated or crumbled, 100 - 140g / 3 1/2 - 5 ounces (depending on how rich you'd like your pide), such as feta, aged ricotta, blue cheese, and mozzarella or provolone

• egg 1

• chopped fresh oregano 2 teaspoons (or about 1/2 - 1 teaspoon dried oregano)

For the topping

• large tomatoes, thinly sliced, 2

• large green pepper, cut in half, cored, seeded, and thinly sliced, 2

• eggs 4

• vegetable oil 2 tablespoons (I used olive oil)

Dissolve the yeast in 50ml / 3 1/2 tablespoons of the water. Stir in the sugar and set aside for 5 minutes. It should start to form bubbles.

Sift the flours into a large bowl, make a well in the middle, and pour in the yeast mixture and the milk. Knead the dough for 10 minutes, or until it reaches earlobe softness. Add more of the water if necessary (I used all of the water). Cover the bowl with a damp tea towel and let it rest and rise for 30 minutes.

Add the salt to the dough and knead for 3 minutes. Place the dough on a floured work surface and form it into a cylinder, then cut it into 4 equal pieces. Cover and let rest for another 10 minutes.

Meanwhile, preheat the oven to 200°C / 400°F. If you have a pizza stone or tile, place it in the oven. Or leave a baking sheet in the oven so it will preheat.

Combine the crumbled cheeses in a large bowl. Add the egg and fold and mix until combined; stir in the oregano.

On a floured working surface, stretch the pieces of dough into ovals, about 30 x 20cm / 12 x 8" and 5mm / 1/4" thick; or use a rolling pin.

Transfer the 4 pides to 2 pieces of parchment paper. Spoon a strip of the cheese mixture in the middle of each oval, leaving a 5cm / 2" rim all around the edges. Fold over the 2 longer sides so they touch the filling but don't cover it. Join the folded edges at the top and bottom to make a boat shape. Press each into a point and twist to close tightly. Arrange 6 slices of tomato and 4 slices of pepper on each pide and break an egg into the middle. If you don't want the egg to be cooked through, bake the pides without the egg for 7 minutes, then add the egg, and bake for another 7 minutes or until golden brown.

Brush the tops of the dough with oil.

If you're using a baking sheet preheated in the oven, take it out of the oven and pull 1 parchment paper with 2 pides over onto the hot baking sheet; or transfer 2 pides with the parchment paper onto the hot pizza stone or tile in the oven. Bake for about 15 minutes or until golden brown. Enjoy warm.

Growing up in Istanbul, Turkey, in the 1970s and 1980s, during a time of severe political unrest, how would you describe your life as a child and teenager? What are your memories of those days?

I was born and raised in Kadikoy, Istanbul, one of the last multicultural suburbs of Istanbul, where the few of the last descendants of Greek, Armenian and other non-muslim population lived after the rise of nationalist policies drove them out of the city they lived in for many generations. Although the 1970s were chaotic, we felt safe on the streets as the community values were very strong back then, everyone knew and looked after each other.

Why did you leave Turkey in your twenties and move to Sydney?

I came to study for my MBA degree and to live in another country to find my own voice.

What does having your own restaurants – Efendy and Anason – mean to you, is it a dream come true? 

My restaurant, Efendy, and the amazing team gave me the chance to represent Turkish food in a country where it was only known as kebaps and Turkish bread before we opened.

Your mother worked as a restaurant consultant, do both of you share a similar philosophy when it comes to food, cooking, and running a restaurant? Does she give you advice and do you listen?

She ran a number of restaurants /meze bars and I learned a lot from working with her, as to sharing the same philosophy fundamentally, yes, but I challenge myself to progress and she is a bit more conservative. I think we are both challenging each other in that aspect. She gives me advice, typically I would ignore, or pretend to ignore, but do it later on anyway (laughing).

Who is your biggest inspiration in the kitchen?

My grandma, Akife, was my childhood influence, as she was one of the first modern females to complete a home economics degree and she took cooking classes as part of it. She was a great example of how to create excellence from scarcity.

How did the Turkish cuisine influence your perspective as a chef? How do you develop new recipes?

Turkish food is all about seasonality, abundance and variety. As a chef, it made me think about using the right produce at the right season and applying various drying, pickling, and preserving techniques to my cooking. I used to create the recipes and get my chefs to cook them at Efendy, but now I ask them to create recipes that means something to them, from their heritage, and I learn and coach them to fine tune them to put in our seasonal menus at Efendy and Anason.

How long did you work on your cookbook Anatolia? Can you describe the creative process of this wonderful book, which you wrote together with David Dale?

Three years from concept to print. As a first time book author, I was lucky enough to work with one of the best food journalists, David Dale, and he coached me thorough the whole process. We have been to Turkey twice together visiting cities all over the country, talking to masters of craft and adapting the recipes to Australian and European readers where they can cook with common ingredients that can be found at any farmers' market.

What is your favourite Turkish and your favourite Australian dish?

Turkish: Kalkan - Black-Sea turbot. Australian: Mud crabs cooked over the BBQ.

What do you miss about Istanbul?

I am lucky enough to go back every year. Eating seasonal fish and drinking raki on the Bosphorus with family and friends is one thing I yearn for and do every time I am back. In fact, I am in Istanbul at the moment.

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

I remember helping my grandma buttering the layers of her lamb borek, she had the scariest looking electrical round oven where all the cables and elements were exposed.

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

My favourite shopping spot was at Growers Market at Pyrmont, unfortunately they closed, so currently it’s Eveleigh Markets every Saturday. Favourite cafés: Le Cafeier in Balmain and Edition Coffee pop-up at Barangaroo, both located next to my restaurants and keep me going all day and night.So many restaurants to mention but I love the next-gen Turkish restaurants in Sydney like Pazar Food Collective, Stanbuli and Sefa Kitchen.

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

I would love my babaanne (paternal grandmother) to cook something from her Albanian heritage, as we lost her when I was very young and never learned that part of my culinary culture.

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

It won’t be on the table but the spring lamb on a spit would be next to the table and complemented with some mezes and seasonal salad accompanied by raki or a few nice bottles of Öküzgözü (Turkish red wine variety).

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

I loved my anneanne’s karniyarik and borek, nowadays, I love having a simple grilled fish or a nice steak on a charcoal BBQ.

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

Of course cooking with others, I don’t like cooking by myself or eating by myself.

Which meals do you prefer, improvised or planned?

Improvised, as it has an element of surprise and spontaneity.

Which meal would you never cook again?

Bombe Alaska (Baked Alaska). Many years ago, when I was working in banquets at a hotel, I made it for a wedding of 1000 people not knowing how it is made. Lesson learnt.

Thank you Somer!

Rhubarb Tartlets with Cinnamon Oat Crumble

The combination of rhubarb and cinnamon crumble is so perfect that I dare to call it one of my favourite baked sweets. It's sweet, fruity-sour, and buttery, what more could I ask for? I could add oats, which I've never done before for some reason, so I gave it a try and the result was extremely pleasing. The first bite through the crunchy aromatic crust and soft fruit gave me the feeling that home-baked sweets are simply the best.

The past few days were a little rough and rocky and I often wished I had two Meikes to sort out all the tasks and problems piled up on my desk. Late night work led to sleep deprivation and a paranoid me, worrying that I wouldn't manage to finish everything in time. I call myself quite disciplined, I can work hard, but luckily, I also know when to pull the brake. It was a bright and sunny afternoon and I started to feel like I could see the light at the end of the tunnel - although not all problems were solved yet - but I decided to close my laptop. Trying not to think too much, I grabbed my bag and jumped on my bike. Cycling through springy Berlin and enjoying the bumpy ride over cobbled roads put a smile on my face as I saw nature's leaves and blossoms taking over the city again. I stopped at a café for a creamy cappuccino that felt like the best coffee I had in a while, and leafed through a cheesy magazine. Life can be perfect and sometimes it's so easy to get there, all you have to do is forget about your duties for a little while and follow whatever your mood calls for.

Rhubarb Tartlets with Cinnamon Oat Crumbles

Makes 10 tartlets

For the filling

• trimmed rhubarb, cut into 5cm / 2" pieces, 600g / 1 1/3 pounds

• granulated sugar, 100g / 1/2 cup

For the pastry

• plain flour 260g / 2 cups

• granulated sugar 80g / 1/3 cup plus 1 tablespoon

• a pinch of salt

• unsalted butter, cold, 160g / 2/3 cup

• organic egg yolks 2

For the oat crumble

• rolled oats 100g / 3 1/2 ounces / 1 cup plus 1 tablespoon

• plain flour 65g / 1/2 cup

• granulated sugar 90g / 1/3 cup plus 2 tablespoons

• ground cinnamon 1 teaspoon

• unsalted butter, melted, 80g / 1/3 cup

Preheat the oven to 200°C / 400°F (preferably convection setting).

For the filling, add the rhubarb and sugar to a large baking dish and toss to combine. Bake for about 25 minutes or until soft but still in shape. Set the rhubarb aside and let it cool completely.

For the pastry, in a large bowl, combine the flour, sugar, and salt. Cut the butter with a knife into the flour until there are just little pieces of butter left. Continue with your fingers and rub the butter into the flour until combined. Add the egg yolks and continue mixing with the dough hooks of an electric mixer until you have a crumbly mixture. Form a thick disc, wrap in cling film, and put in the freezer for 10 minutes.

Butter 10 (10cm / 4") tartlet pans and dust with flour. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.Divide the dough into 10 equal parts. Roll out the 10 pieces of dough between cling film into 12 cm / 4 1/2" circles. Line the tartlet pans with the pastry, push the dough into the pans, and prick with a fork. Bake for about 12-15 minutes or until golden, bush the dough down with a fork if it bubbles up. Take the tartlet pans out of the oven and let them cool for a few minutes. Using a metal skewer, loosen the pastry shell gently along the rim and turn the tartlets out onto the lined baking sheet.

Turn the oven down to 180°C / 350°F.

For the crumble, combine the oats, flour, sugar, and cinnamon in a medium bowl. Stir in the melted butter and mix until combined and crumbly.

Divide the rhubarb among the tartlet shells, sprinkle with the oat crumble, and bake for about 15 minutes or until golden brown.

Green Minestrone with Lime-Arugula Meatballs

Sometimes I am asked by a reader to come up with a certain recipe. Quite often it's a dish connected to a childhood memory of theirs, a food experience saved many years ago, and now they're hoping to find this specific flavour again. But it's a tricky thing, it's almost impossible to relive something as an adult and expect the same satisfaction that we felt back then when we were young.

I used to love Dutch coconut sheets for breakfast, which is as weird as it sounds. This is compressed dessicated coconut, pressed into thin sheets and, to make it even more appealing, they were either pink or pale white. I was obsessed with them. After a culinary break from this delicacy, I tried them again years later and I was so disappointed. But there's another Dutch classic, which still lives up to my memories, and I enjoy it with the biggest passion whenever I pull it out of my oven: sticky honey cake.

At the end of this winter, I got asked to share a traditional German hot chocolate recipe, which my reader, who lives in the US, connects with the time he spent in Germany as a child. Somehow, I never felt in the mood for it, and my hot chocolate is also a rather simple creation made of milk, unsweetened cocoa powder, and ground cinnamon and cardamom, which is not a traditional German take on this drink. I'm sorry, I'll try to write about it next winter.

But last week, someone dropped a comment on Instagram, telling me that I haven't made a soup in a long time - and this person was right! She lives in Asia and asked for a soup that she can have with her morning rice. I don't think that someone who lives in Asia, needs a German girl to tell her how to make a fragrant broth with ginger, spices, and lemon grass, so I thought about something that I could share from my background. Our summers spent in Malta made me fall for minestrone, and when I cook this warming soup with just green vegetables - like fresh beans, peas, and zucchini - it tastes like spring. To turn it into a full lunch, I add tiny meatballs refined with lots of chopped arugula and lemon zest. The strong aroma of the citrus fruit reminds me of the Mediterranean but at the same time, it adds the same lemony freshness that you know from a clear broth made with ginger. Enjoy!

Green Minestrone with Lime-Arugula Meatballs

Serves 2-4

For the meatballs

• ground beef 400g / 14 ounces

• fresh arugula leaves, finely chopped (with a knife or in a blender), 1 large handful / 50g

• zest of 1 lime (1 heaping teaspoon)

• garlic, crushed, 2 cloves

• fine sea salt 1 teaspoon

• a generous amount ground pepper

For the soup

• olive oil

• garlic, cut in half, 1 clove

• green vegetables (a mix of trimmed green beans, peas, and zucchini), beans and peas cut into bite size pieces, about 350g / 12 ounces

• vegetable broth, hot, 1l / 4 1/4 cups

• freshly squeezed lime juice 1 tablespoon

• bay leaf 1

• fine sea salt

• ground pepper

For the topping

ramp leaves, thinly sliced, 2 and / or spring onion, thinly sliced, 1

For the meatballs, in a large bowl, combine the ground beef, chopped arugula, lime zest, garlic, salt, and pepper and mix until well combined. Wet your hands and form the mixture into tiny meatballs.

For the soup, in a large saucepan, heat a splash of olive oil over medium heat. Add the garlic and cook, stirring, for about 1 minute. Add the vegetables, stir, and cook for 1 minute. Add the broth, lime juice, and bay leaf, season with salt and pepper to taste, and bring to the boil. Add the meatballs and bring to the boil again. Reduce the heat to medium, cover with a lid, and simmer for 4 minutes. Split 1 meatball to check if it's done. Season the soup with salt, pepper, and additional lime juice to taste.

Serve the soup in deep bowls, sprinkled with ramps and / or spring onion, and enjoy warm.

Cynthia Barcomi's Cheesecake with Mint and Aniseed Crust

This recipe comes from a woman who is a great inspiration in the kitchen and for life - and she's also one of the reasons why I live where I live. I used to visit Berlin quite often in my twenties and on one of those trips, I discovered Barcomi's Deli right in the heart of the city's old Eastern part. The moment I walked through the hidden Sophienhöfe for the first time, I fell in love with its peaceful backyards and the tall brick walls covered in vine. When I opened the glass door to Cynthia Barcomi's cozy café, I found my place (update: sadly, the café closed in 2021). Amazing coffee and the best American cakes, muffins, and sandwiches I had ever tasted, I was hooked. So I decided that if I ever moved to this city, it would have to be close to Cynthia's kitchen. And that's what I did.

Cynthia is from New York. In the late 80's, she came to Berlin to live and work here as a professional dancer. Today, she's one of Germany's most successful women in the food business. She started roasting her own coffee beans long before it became a trend, and she introduced the people in her new home city to all the scrumptious treats she grew up with: bagels, New York cheesecake, fruit pies, and luscious sandwiches made with the juiciest potato bread. It became a great success. When you meet Cynthia, you can see right away that she's not the kind of person who would rest if something works out. She's constantly on the move, her enthusiasm is impressive, and she jumps from one project to the next project. She started a flourishing catering business, became a popular TV host, sells her own bakeware collection (she has the most perfect pie dishes!), and she wrote six best selling cookbooks. And all this as a mother of four children - sometimes I wish I had her energy.

It's only a year ago since Cynthia published her last book Cookies, which includes the best brownie recipe I know: chocolate and peanut butter. They are divine. Her new masterpiece is just as packed with deliciousness and focuses on Cheesecakes, Pies & Tartes (in German). It's a very special book, as Cynthia, for the first time, shared her signature cake, the best New York cheesecake in town. Her fans have been bugging her for years to share it with them, but she declined. So finally, after 20 years, she had mercy on us and opens her new book with this exact recipe. When I decided to write about Cynthia's new creations, I felt so tempted to bake this cake and share the recipe here with you, but I wasn't even sure if I feel quite ready to bake this cake at home in my kitchen. I've ben enjoying it for so long at her café, do I want to know how this piece of magic is actually made? I think for now, I want to leave it this way, I just jump on my bike whenever my appetite calls for it and roll down the hill to her Deli.

But as I thumbed through the pages of her new book, reading about such tempting treats as Blueberry Pocket Pies, Peanut Butter Townie, Sweet Potato Spice Bars with Potato Chip Crust, and Honey Almond Goat Cheese Cheesecake, I got excited. And then I spotted a recipe that made it impossible to read any further: A Spanish Cheesecake or Flaó from Ibiza. The pie is made with ricotta and mascarpone and refined with lemon and mint - this is genius! The filling lies on an aniseed short crust base and it's the most aromatic, fragrant, and light cheesecake I ever had on a plate. Two days ago, I shared the last pieces of it with some friends and there was happy silence at the table. I never even thought of adding mint to a cheesecake and it's actually the best thing that could happen to it. Cynthia learned about this combination from a friend's aunt, Maria, an eccentric art collector from Spain, living in New York. I have to start thinking about what else I could do with the mint plant outside my kitchen window.

When I sipped on my creamy cappuccino at Barcomi's many, many years ago, it would have never crossed my mind that one day, the woman who created all this would become more than an inspiration in my life. Cynthia gave me the best tips for my book when I started working on it. She shared her experiences with me and helped me so much during the whole process in the past year. And then, when I asked her if she'd like to write a quote for my book, she didn't hesitate. I emailed her the pages of the Eat In My Kitchen book, and I have to confess that I felt a bit nervous to share it with her. When I read her words, it brought me to tears:

"Great food like great art speaks the truth. Meike’s recipes and photos are pared down, honest and revealing – I love what she does! She goes right for the sensory jugular leaving you wanting and needing more. Void of superfluous detail, Meike’s all about delicious food – brava!"

Thank you Cynthia!

Cynthia Barcomi's Mint Cheesecake with Aniseed Crust

Serves 6

For the pastry base

• plain flour 200g / 1 1/2 cups

• granulated sugar 2 teaspoons

• aniseed, finely crushed in a mortar, 1 1/2 teaspoons

• salt 1/2 teaspoon

• freshly grated zest from 1/2 lemon

• unsalted butter, cold, cut into cubes, 90g / 1/3 cup plus 1 tablespoon

• vegetable shortening, cold, cut into cubes, 30g / 2 tablespoons

• egg yolk 1

• olive oil 1 tablespoon

For the filling

• fresh ricotta 250g / 9 ounces

• mascarpone 250g / 9 ounces

• granulated sugar 200g / 1 cup

• eggs 4

• freshly grated zest from 1/2 lemon

• fresh mint leaves, finely chopped, 2 tablespoons

For the topping

• fresh mint leaves 12

• granulated sugar 1 tablespoon

In a large bowl, combine the flour, sugar, aniseed, salt, and lemon zest. Add the butter and vegetable shortening and rub them into the flour mixture with your fingers, or use the dough hooks of an electric mixer and quickly mix until you have a crumbly mixture. Whisk together the egg yolk and olive oil in a measuring cup and add water until the total is 100ml / 1/3 cup plus 1 tablespoon. Add to the dough and mix until just combined; don't knead the dough. Form a thick disc, wrap in cling film, and put in the fridge for 2 hours (or longer).

Preheat the oven to 175°C / 350°F and butter a 23cm / 9" pie or tart dish.

For the filling, in a large bowl, using an electric mixer, whisk together the ricotta, mascarpone, and sugar until creamy. Add the eggs, 1 at a time, and stir in the lemon zest and chopped mint leaves.

Take the pastry out of the fridge and roll our between cling film, large enough to line the bottom and sides of the pie dish. Line the pie dish with the pastry, press it into the dish, and leave about 5mm / 1/4" of dough hanging over the rim.

Pour the filling on top of the pastry and decorate with the 12 mint leaves (arrange them like a clock). Bake for 50 minutes or until golden. (Cynthia suggests that you check the cake after 30 minutes and cover it with aluminium foil if it gets too dark, I skipped this, the colour was fine.) Take the cake out of the oven, sprinkle with the sugar, and let it cool.

Spring Timpana - Maltese Pasta Pie with Asparagus, Peas, and Leeks

Yesterday's excitement called for lots of carbs - and a glass of wine! It was a day packed with too many emotions to handle. After sharing the cover of my book and the Amazon pre-order links here on the blog, I felt overwhelmed by all the sweet emails and messages I got from all over the world. I needed good, solid, rustic food for dinner to calm me down. I made a dish that is so packed with carbs that it actually feels a little weird, but it's also packed with flavour and comfort, so it makes sense. I baked a springy Maltese pasta pie, also known as Timpana. I introduced you to this Maltese street food classic a few months ago and the response to the recipe was crazy.

Timpana is basically short pasta stuffed into a buttery pastry shell. Usually, it's enriched with Bolognese, which is nice but it can get a little boring if you've eaten it for years, so last time I made it I went for a meat-free Mediterranean filling of zucchini, eggplant, tomato, and basil. It was so good that I thought I'd never need another filling ever again. But then spring came around the corner with all its pretty greens. Wouldn't it be nice to see green asparagus, sweet peas, and leek inside this pie beauty? I didn't have to think about it twice. I went to the grocery store, put all the vegetables in my bicycle's basket, and once home, I turned on the oven.

It's still a little weird for me to look at this combination of penne and shortcrust in a rational way but maybe this dish shouldn't be overanalyzed. It simply feels and tastes good, and after the first bite, my mind and emotions were at ease again: I felt so happy and thankful to have the eat in my kitchen blog and book in my life, both of them connect me with so many people all over the world and bring so many fantastic experiences into my life.

Spring Timpana - Maltese Pasta Pie with Asparagus, Peas, and Leeks

You'll need a 20 1/2cm / 8″ springform pan.

Serves 4-6

For the filling

• penne pasta 250g / 9 ounces

• green asparagus, trimmed, about 500g / 1 pound

• peas, fresh or frozen, 200g / 7 ounces

• olive oil

• leek, thinly sliced, 200g / 7 ounces

• Dijon mustard

• 3 teaspoons

• fine sea salt 1 teaspoon

• ground pepper

• organic egg 1

• Parmesan, freshly grated, 80g / 3 ounces for the filling plus 1 tablespoon for the topping (or 100g / 3 1/2 ounces for the filling if you prefer a richer pie)

For the pastry

• plain flour 300g / 2 1/3 cups

• fine sea salt 1 teaspoon

• butter, cold, 150g / 2/3 cup

• organic egg yolks 2

• water, cold, 2 tablespoons

For the glaze

• organic egg yolk 1

• milk 1 tablespoon

• a pinch of fine sea salt

For the filling, cook the penne in salted water until al dente, they should have bite. Let the pasta cool completely.

In a large pot, bring salted water to the boil and cook the asparagus for about 3 minutes or until al dente. Reserve 120ml / 1/2 cup of the cooking water. Drain the asparagus and rinse quickly with cold water. Let the asparagus cool completely, then cut into pieces as long as the penne.

In a small saucepan, cook the peas in boiling salted water for 1 minute. Drain and rinse with cold water; set aside.

In a large, heavy pan, heat a splash of olive oil over medium-high heat and cook the leek for about 10 minutes, stirring once in a while, or until golden and soft; let it cool completely.

Preheat the oven to 200°C / 400°F (conventional setting).

For the pastry, combine the flour and salt in a large bowl. Cut the butter with a knife into the flour until there are just little pieces of butter left. Continue with your fingers and rub the butter into the flour until combined. Add the egg yolks and water and continue mixing with the dough hooks of an electric mixer until you have a crumbly mixture. Form 2 discs, dividing the dough roughly 2:1, wrap in cling film, and put in the freezer for 10 minutes.

For the filling, in a large bowl, combine the pasta, the reserved asparagus cooking water, mustard, salt, and a generous amount of ground pepper. Season to taste with salt, pepper, and mustard, then stir in the egg and mix until well combined. To fill the pie, the filling should be completely cool.

For the glaze, in a small bowl, whisk together the egg yolk, milk and salt .

Take the dough out of the freezer and roll out both discs between cling film, the large disc, for the bottom and sides of the springform pan, should be about 32cm / 12 1/2″, and the smaller disc should be big enough to cover the pie.

Line the bottom and sides of the springform pan with the large pastry disc. Spread 1/3 of the pasta mixture on top of the pastry, sprinkle with 1/3 of the Parmesan, 1/3 of the vegetables (asparagus, peas, and leek) and season with salt and pepper to taste. Continue making 2 more layers. Pour any remaining liquid from the pasta mixture over the filling. Close with the pastry lid and gently push the rim with your fingers to seal the pie. Using a toothpick, prick a few holes into the top of the pie. Brush the top with the egg glaze and sprinkle with the remaining 1 tablespoon of cheese.

Bake the pie for 15 minutes, then turn the heat down to 175°C / 350°F and bake for another 50 minutes or until the pie is golden and the pastry is baked through. Let the pie cool for at least 15 minutes before you cut it into pieces.

What it means to write a cookbook - the EAT IN MY KITCHEN book is ready for pre-order!

It's coming to life: my book cover is out, the pre-order link is out, and I'm the happiest person in the world!

Writing a cookbook feels like being on a rollercoaster for months. It reveals emotions that I didn't even think I'd be capable of. Creating a book throws you up to the highest highs and drops you back to the ground, it makes you crawl into the deepest holes to bring out the best that you can possibly do - because it's a book. But it's all worth it, as it's one of the most exciting and satisfying experiences I've ever had in my life.

Usually, a book starts with an idea, a script, that the author thinks is worth sending into the world, or at least to an agent or a publisher. In my case, it was different, I was so busy with my blog eat in my kitchen, to keep the constant flow of a new recipe every day in the first year, that a cookbook didn't even come to mind. It felt strange seeing myself as a blogger, let alone calling myself an author. Some of my readers mentioned a book, or kept asking when I'd start working on a physical version of the blog, but I never saw myself as a cookbook author. I wrote about my recipes, that felt natural, as I've always been inspired by food, so coming up with new ideas in my kitchen is quite an easy task for me. My love for good food keeps the ideas flowing. So when Holly La Due from Prestel Publishing send me an email from her New York office a bit over 1 year ago to ask if I'd like to write a cookbook, I felt surprised, shocked, and overwhelmed. But then, after a few days, when the idea had sunk in, there was just happiness and gratitude for this great chance, and so I started working on what has become my first book:

EAT IN MY KITCHEN - To Cook, to Bake, to Eat, and to Treat is a collection of 100 mainly new recipes plus a few blog classics and six meet in your kitchen features (with Molly Yeh, Yossy Arefi, the Hemsley sisters and some more). I cooked and baked everything myself, alone in my kitchen at home, I took all the pictures, and wrote the book in two languages, in English and in German. To see it come to life more and more every day is rather overwhelming, and then, when I read the quotes about my book from two people whose work I admire so much, I was close to tears:

• "Eat in my kitchen is a wonderful selection of recipes, bursting with colour, beauty and flavour. Each page offers a new temptation". - Sami Tamimi, head chef, Ottolenghi restaurants, co-author of Ottolenghi: The Cookbook and Jerusalem

• "Great food like great art speaks the truth. Meike’s recipes and photos are pared down, honest and revealing – I love what she does! She goes right for the sensory jugular leaving you wanting and needing more. Void of superfluous detail, Meike’s all about delicious food – brava!"- Cynthia Barcomi, pastry chef, founder of Barcomi's, and author of six cookbooks

The EAT IN MY KITCHEN book will be published by Prestel on the 4th October (in English and in German) but if you're as impatient as me, you can already pre-oder it online:

• Amazon.com

• Amazon.co.uk

• Amazon.de (the German pre-order link will be available on 8th May)

In the past 12 months, my life has been more than crazy. I pity my boyfriend and I can't thank him enough for sticking with me, despite my countless nervous breakdowns and the fact that he put on weight due to my excessive cooking and baking. But we managed, all together, with my fantastic publisher team in New York, Munich, and London, and first and foremost, with my inspiring, patient, visionary Holly. I can't thank you enough.

What it means to write a cookbook:

I had lots of doubts at the start of this process, not so much about my recipes, but mainly about my photography. I'm not a professional photographer, I've always been far more passionate about the food, and I hate editing pictures (thank you so much Jennifer Endom for taking over this job for my book). So in the first days of shooting recipes for the book, I questioned every little detail and I was sure it wouldn't be good enough. Luckily, I got over it at one point, I had to, and then it became much easier. I developed all the recipes in a relatively short amount of time, it felt like they've always been inside me, just waiting to be turned into a book. After a few skype calls with my mother - the best food consultant I could ask for - and with Holly, my recipe collection was set.

Being well organized is essential when working on a book, and luckily, that's how my mind works. I can be a bundle of emotions, but if needs be, my head is clear and focussed. It helped that I studied architecture, those days at university taught me how to structure my working steps well and keep an overview (at least most of the time). Lots of lists, excel files, and notes lead to a cooking and shooting plan, including information when certain ingredients are available, which tableware I would use, and which recipes I would cook together in one day. The cooking/ shooting process took me 6 weeks and I was done - and exhausted. I had a strict weekly plan for grocery shopping, working on the blog, as I still posted 3 recipes a week at that time, test cooking, final cooking and shooting, and for writing. There were two moments during the whole process of working on my book when I felt like I crossed my limits, physically and mentally. Taking pictures of food means you're constantly rushing, to shoot the dish quick enough so that it still looks fresh, and to catch the right light (I only work with daylight). I felt constantly stressed, running out of time, and I was willing to keep the weirdest positions for the prefect shot for longer than my back would normally manage. After those 6 weeks I felt 10 years older.

Believing that the worst - or let's say, the hardest part was over - I went to Malta for 4 weeks, as I wanted to write the stories and final recipes in my Maltese mama's house in Msida. It was a great time, not very productive, but we had fun. I went snorkeling every day, we met our friends and family, and my mother came to visit for my birthday. I couldn't complain. And then I finally met Holly for the first time in person. She came to Malta to make the final selection of the pictures for the book together with me and while I had her on the island, I showed her around. It was beautiful and I wish that working on a book would always feel this way. But my rather relaxed Mediterranean schedule soon came to an end.

Writing didn't work out as easily under Malta's burning hot sun as I had expected, too many distractions, day trips, dinner parties, and the sea of course, left me with a manuscript that I wasn't that happy with. Back home in Berlin, I had to sit down at the desk - our dining table - and re-write almost everything. But then after a few weeks back in the North, I was happy with the results and my boyfriend was happy, who's the most critical when it comes to my book, which helps me a lot. So I sent everything to Holly and our copy editor Lauren Salkeld, who helped me put the recipes in a proper, professional cookbook approved, form. And this - to my surprise -  took months. We emailed back and forth, changed grams to cups and rucola to arugula, rewrote instructions to avoid misunderstandings, added spaces and deleted spaces, and then after 3 months, we were done and I felt close to a breakdown. From the start, I've been quite paranoid that there could be mistakes in the book. Be it in the writing, measurements, conversion, or whatsoever. Like a maniac, I read these pages countless times to avoid mistakes, and then every time we changed something again, I was so worried that more mistakes might sneak in (which did happen). The fact that I did the German translation right away didn't make it any better. Now, I worried about two books and not just one. You don't write a book that often in your life, and if you get the chance to do it, you want to do it right. People have expectations, they will be willing to spend their money on this book, and I want to give them something that they enjoy working with in their kitchen, a book that is inspiring, and that's also nice to look at. Everybody has been telling me from the start, "Meike, there will be mistakes, like in any other book," and I'm aware of this, but I want to keep them as rare as possible. Thanks to my proof-reading friends in LA and Berlin, we made it: Kisses to you, Pattie and Ursula!

There is one part of working on a book that I actually enjoy a lot, and that's when the designer comes in. I'm so glad to have the amazing Jan Derevjanik at my side, I trust her eyes and taste, we seem to speak the same visual language. Whatever she does, feels right and I never had to explain any of my visions to her. Be it the fonts she chose, the layout of the pages, colours, or the cover - which I love so much, it feels so much like me - Jan took a lot of weight off my shoulders as I knew I wouldn't have to worry about anything she does. Thank you for that!

So finally we're almost done and I slowly understand that there will be a printed book soon, my book. It still feels a little strange, and the moment I truly understood that "it's a book", was the moment when Holly sent me the cover design. When I saw EAT IN MY KITCHEN and my name written on the cover, and the picture of this salad that I can still taste in my mouth, I knew that we had created something great all together.

In autumn, we'll have book launch events in New York, Washington, London, Malta, and Berlin and there might be a few more, we just started working it out. So the journey continues, and wherever it may take me, I'm grateful for every single experience.And now, the biggest thank you goes to you, you wonderful eat in my kitchen readers, for being a part of this adventure! You made all this possible and I wish that you'll enjoy my book as much as I already do.

Meike xx

I've never shared a post on my blog without giving you a recipe, and although I intended not to write about food this time as the book is already so exciting, I can't help it:This is not really a recipe but it's my favourite food - although some people can't believe it. I love juicy white bread with olive oil, or dark German bread with butter. I need my daily dose of bread, I can't live without it. So to celebrate my appearance on Amazon as an author, we popped open a bottle of Champagne, broke chunks off a soft loaf of ciabatta, and drizzled them generously with fine Italian olive oil - I couldn't have asked for more!

Serves 2, when 2 want to celebrate

• the best ciabatta bread you can get hold of, 1 loaf

• the best olive oil you can get hold of, a few tablespoons

• the best Champagne you can get hold of, 1 bottle

Enjoy with a special person!

Grape and Olive Oil Friands with Caramelized Rosemary

I don't know what drove me to come up with a grape-recipe in April, but it must have had something to do with the fact that I desperately felt like baking with fruits and there was nothing else in sight that sparked my interest. I went to the shop around the corner to find some inspiration, but there were just a few tiny baskets of unripe strawberries, I spotted plump blueberries, which seem to have become available all year round, and some very delicate - and artificial - looking raspberries. I didn't get excited by any of them.

I usually try to follow the (local) seasons, but there was a bag full of South African grapes that seemed to fit perfectly to the bunch of rosemary that I had already picked. So they became the main flavours for my French olive oil friands. If we leave out the fact that it's not the fruit's season in the northern hemisphere where I live, it's a cozy sweet treat that is just right when the weather is too moody to go outside, or there's too much work on the desk, and you're forced to stay inside. A nibble of this aromatic beauty and the world looks much nicer again.

In case you've never heard of friands before - I must admit I was one of them - they are sumptuous small cakes, a patisserie classic. They look similar to muffins but the texture is actually more fine and delicate. They are made with ground almonds and just a little flour, and a generous amount of beaten egg white that helps the batter to rise instead of baking powder or baking soda. Traditionally made with melted butter, I just followed my mood and replaced the dairy product with mild olive oil. It was a good choice, especially in combination with the sweet fruit and fragrant herb.

Grape and Olive Oil Friands with Caramelized Rosemary

Makes 12 friands (in a muffin pan)

• For the friands

• organic egg whites 6

• fine sea salt 1/8 teaspoon

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

• ground almonds (or hazelnuts) 200g / 1 2/3 cups

• plain flour 80g / 2/3 cup

• freshly grated orange zest 2 teaspoons

• mild olive oil 140ml / 2/3 cup

• small dark grapes, preferably seedless (or seeds removed), 36 (3 grapes for each friand)

• icing sugar, for the topping

For the caramelized rosemary

• granulated sugar 3 tablespoons

• water 2 tablespoons

• the tips of 12 sprigs of rosemary (with about 4-5 needles each)

Preheat the oven to 200°C / 400°F (conventional setting). Grease a 12-cup muffin pan with olive oil, dust with a little flour, and place in the fridge. Cut 12 circles of parchment paper, large enough for the bottom of each muffin cup; set aside.

In a large bowl, using an electric mixer, whisk the egg whites, salt, and 1 tablespoon of the sugar for about 1 minute until it forms soft peaks.

In a second, large bowl, combine the remaining sugar, ground almonds, flour, and orange zest. In alternating batches, fold in the beaten egg whites and the olive oil, about 1/3 at a time. Stir gently until just combined.

Take the muffin pan out of the fridge, lay 1 parchment circle into each muffin cup, and divide the batter between the cups. Place 3 grapes on top of the batter in each muffin cup and bake for about 20 minutes or until golden. Check with a skewer, it should come out clean. Let the friands cool for a few minutes, then, using a small sharp knife, cut along the sides of the muffin cups and lift the friands out of the muffin pan. Remove the parchment paper.

For the caramelized rosemary, place a piece of parchment paper on the counter top. In a small, heavy pan, heat the sugar and water on high heat, without stirring. When the sugar is golden and caramelized, stir in the rosemary until coated in caramel and transfer to the parchment paper. Let it cool for a few minutes before you peel it off the parchment paper.

Dust the friands with icing sugar and garnish with the caramelized rosemary. They taste best on the first day.

Swiss Potato Roesti with Ramp Feta Dip

It's back! Before I even saw it, I could smell it: the oniony, fresh, green aroma of ramp.

I can't say what excited me more last weekend, Berlin's summery temperatures that brought city life back into the parks, cafés, and restaurants, or my beloved ramps. Large bunches of the springy leaves tucked into little buckets waited for me at the market and I couldn't stop myself - I already used more than a dozen of them. Mainly for pesto, as it tastes so unbelievably good and my boyfriend is convinced that it calms his pollen allergy. Soups are next, seafood, burgers, sandwiches, ramp's season is short but my inspiration to use it is unlimited.

Another one of my spring classics is roesti (or Röschti). It's a rustic Swiss dish made of grated raw and preferably young potatoes fried in a heavy pan like crisp latkes, there's no flour or egg, only salt and pepper for seasoning. Last year, I shared a recipe with you that added lemon zest and rosemary, which made it feel quite summery. This time I go for a rich dip: feta whipped with lots of chopped ramp leaves and a squeeze of lemon juice. The spicy green melts into the cheese's saltiness, it's divine. I made a large batch of the dip as it's also fantastic in combination with juicy ciabatta or crusty dark bread.

Swiss Potato Roesti with Ramp Feta Dip

Serves 2 for lunch

• peeled waxy potatoes, cut into small match sticks, 400g / 14 ounces

• flaky sea salt

• black peppercorns, crushed in a mortar

• olive oil

For the feta dip

• feta 150g / 5 ounces

• fresh ramp leaves 30g / 1 ounce

• olive oil 3 tablespoons

• freshly squeezed lemon juice 1 tablespoon

• ground pepper

For the dip, in a food processor or blender, pulse the feta, ramp leaves, olive oil, and lemon juice until smooth. Season with ground pepper to taste.

Heat 5 tablespoons of olive oil in a 22cm / 9″ cast iron pan on high heat, add the potatoes, quickly spread them evenly, and push them down with a spatula. Turn the heat down to medium / medium-high and cook for about 5 minutes, mind that the potatoes don’t burn. Using a spatula, loosen the roesti from the sides of the pan and lift it gently from the bottom, but don't flip it over yet, it should be golden and light brown at the bottom. To turn the roesti, cover the pan with a large lid and flip the pan over, carefully but quickly. You should end up with the roesti on the lid. Put the pan back on the heat, add 1 tablespoon of oil and let the roesti slide off the lid into the pan. Cook for 5 minutes or until golden brown and crisp on the bottom side. Loosen the roesti from the sides and the bottom of the pan and slide it onto a large plate (if you prefer, flip it over onto the lid first). Season with flaky sea salt and crushed pepper to taste and serve with a generous dollop of the feta dip. You can eat the roesti romantically from 1 plate or cut it in half and serve it on 2 plates.

Pomegranate Pavlova Tart with Pistachios and Rosewater

In the past week, I experienced the highs and lows of kitchen life, a fact that a curious baker has to live with when jumping into new recipes. Let's start with the uplifting experience: I baked 3 cakes and 2 were fantastic, which isn't that bad. One of them will stay a secret until I share it with you next week, but the other one was this bomb of a cake. It's a voluptuous beauty, full of flavour, sweetness, crunch, and fluffiness. I call it a pavlova tart - not just a pavlova, which never really managed to rouse my excitement. Baked meringue sandwiched with whipped cream can be nice but it's not enough for me. So I decided to transfer the whole thing onto buttery shortcrust pastry and now it has my attention. This combination is so good that I believe the pastry base should have been an obligatory part of this sweet classic named after the Russian ballerina Anna Pavlova from the start. But never mind, I'm happy with my new discovery. The light meringue is soft in the middle and crunchy on the outside, it's refined with a hint of rosewater just like the rich whipped cream that crowns the whole composition. Sweet-sour pomegranate seeds and their juices turned into a concentrated syrup lay graciously on top, side by side with nutty pistachios. Simply wonderful!

However, my disappointing kitchen experience was an epic fail - ready for the bin. I decided to give puff pastry a try again and I regretted it the moment I pulled the result out of my oven. I spent 2 days reading about the perfect croissant and up until they were in the oven I was quite optimistic that I'd manage to bake light, crisp apricot croissants, made for a Sunday brunch table. But my hope was destroyed as I opened the oven door and witnessed a rather sad result that looked like my flaky sweets got run over by a truck. It took me 2 years to recover from my last puff pastry disaster - I tried to make Maltese pastizzi, it's the flakiest treat, basically the queen of puff pastry - which ended in a buttery, floury soup on a baking sheet. I must say that, this time, it didn't actually look and taste as bad as my last attempt, but it's definitely far from making an appearance on the blog. It's a work in progress I guess.

Pomegranate Pavlova Tart with Pistachios and Rosewater

Makes 1 23cm / 9″ tart

For the short crust base

• flour 200g / 1 1/2 cups

• granulated sugar 65g / 1/3 cup

• a pinch of salt

• unsalted butter, cold, 110g / 1/3 cup plus 2 tablespoons

• organic egg yolks 2

For the meringue

• organic egg whites 4

• fine sea salt 1/8 teaspoon

• granulated sugar 200g / 1 cup

• cornstarch, sifted, 1 1/2 teaspoons

• cider vinegar 1/2 teaspoon

• quality rosewater, preferably organic, 2 teaspoons, plus more to taste

For the topping

• heavy cream, whipped, 200ml / 3/4 cup

• 2 tablespoons granulated sugar

• quality rosewater, preferably organic, 1 teaspoon, plus more to taste

• seeds from 1/2-1 pomegranate

• pomegranate juice 60ml / 1/4 cup

• unsalted pistachios, chopped, 1 small handful

For the pastry, in a large bowl, combine the flour, sugar, and salt. Cut the butter with a knife into the flour until there are just little pieces of butter left. Continue with your fingers and rub the butter into the flour until combined. Add the egg yolks and continue mixing with the hooks of your mixer until you have a crumbly mixture; this takes a few minutes. Form a thick disc, wrap in cling film, and put in the freezer for 12 minutes.

Preheat the oven to 200°C / 400°F (conventional setting).

Roll the dough out between cling film and line a 23cm / 9″  tart pan with the flat pastry. Prick with a fork and bake in the oven for 12 minutes or until golden and crisp. Take the pan out of the oven and let it cool completely.

For the meringue, in a large, clean bowl, using an electric mixer, whisk the egg whites and salt for 1 minute. Continue whisking for 10-12 minutes, adding 1 tablespoon of the sugar at a time. The meringue should be stiff and glossy. Whisk in the cornstarch, vinegar, and 1-2 teaspoons of the rosewater. Add more rosewater to taste.

Turn the oven down to 180°C / 350°F.

Scoop the stiff egg whites onto the pre-baked pastry, spread it lightly but don't push it down. Swirl it a bit for an uneven surface. Bake in the oven for 5 minutes, then turn down the heat to 135°C / 275°F and bake for about 60 minutes or until the meringue is light golden and crisp. Switch off the oven, open the door slightly, and leave the cake in the oven for 15 minutes. Take the cake out of the oven and let it cool completely.

In a medium bowl, using an electric mixer, whip the heavy cream, sugar and 1 teaspoon rosewater. Add more sugar and rosewater to taste; set aside.

In a small saucepan, bring the pomegranate juice and 1 1/2 tablespoons of sugar to the boil. Cook for 1 1/2 minutes or until it starts to thicken.

To assemble the tart, spread the whipped cream in the middle of the meringue, leaving a wide rim, drizzle with the syrup, and sprinkle with pomegranate and pistachios.

Grilled Persimmon, Ham and Cheese Sandwich with Basil

Cheese sandwiches have long been one of my favourite lunchtime snacks. The most basic version features dark German bread, thin slices of young hard cheese, cucumber, salt, and crushed pepper, you could call it my first sandwich creation, born in my early childhood days. But over the years I got a little more experimental: various fruits sneaked in to add their sweetness to ripe cheese, soft cheese, or blue cheese. Mozzarella di Bufala or ricotta are great to bring in some creaminess, and sometimes, I like to take whatever herb or vegetable my eyes catch in the kitchen and turn it into a runny pesto or smooth dip to dollop lusciously on a crusty bun.

When Leerdammer asked me to create a cheese sandwich for them, I decided to go back to my sandwich roots and think about what a great sandwich should be. I always say that I prefer to focus on a few strong flavours rather than distract my taste buds with too many ingredients. It's all about the right play of contrast and harmony, in taste and texture. I like Leerdammer for its mild and nutty taste, it's almost sweet, and it melts fantastically under the broiler. A grilled ham and cheese sandwich felt like the perfect choice but another German sandwich classic came to mind: Toast Hawaii. This child-pleasing creation was a hit in my early sandwich years, pineapple and ham covered in cheese on a slice of toast and grilled. People loved it, including myself. I like pineapple but the market has far more to offer at the moment, so I went for honey-sweet persimmon. The fruit has to be ripe and soft as jelly, in combination with the ham and melted cheese, it almost felt like jam, or a chutney without the sourness. A few basil leaves sprinkled on top give it the spring feeling that I crave so much and make this sandwich feel light and fresh. 

Grilled Persimmon, Ham and Cheese Sandwich with Basil

Makes 2 sandwiches

• rustic white buns, cut in half, 2

• ham 4 thin slices

• large ripe persimmon, peeled and torn into chunks, 1

• Leerdammer cheese 4-6 thick slices

• black peppercorns, crushed in a mortar

• fresh basil leaves 6

Set the oven to broiler or preheat to the highest temperature.

Divide the ham between the bottoms of the buns. Lay the persimmon on top and cover with the cheese. Grill the sandwich in the oven until the cheese starts melting and sizzling, mind that the cheese doesn't burn or slip off the fruit. Sprinkle the grilled cheese with crushed pepper and basil, close the bun, and enjoy.

Maltese Zeppoli - Fried Cream Puffs with Vanilla Ricotta and Fresh Berries

My Maltese family has been telling me about zeppoli - or zeppole in Italian - for many, many years. Countless stories about these puffy, tiny balls of choux pastry, fried to golden perfection, and filled with ricotta, fed my curiosity and made my mouth water. In Malta, the little sweets, also known as sfineġ, are traditionally made on the 19th March to celebrate the feast of St. Joseph. The filling is rich, refined with chocolate and candied peel and fruit, and topped with chopped hazelnuts. In other parts of the Mediterranean, like southern Italy, Sicily, and Sardinia, you can also find them plain, rolled in sugar, dipped in melted chocolate, or topped with vanilla custard. There wasn't the slightest doubt which version I'd go for.

The problem is, when you have an idea of a classic dish without actually ever having tried it, it becomes a dish of its own. In my mind, I always imagined the little puff balls filled with pretty berries. I couldn't really see the chopped chocolate bits but lots of vanilla freshly scraped out of its pod, sweet orange juice, and fragrant Maltese honey stirred into the creamy ricotta. I have an excuse, I've never been to the Maltese archipelago on St. Joseph's special day, so I have never tried a single original zeppoli. Therefore, I just used my imagination and my critical Maltese man, and gave this project a go in my kitchen. I'm not the biggest fan of deep-frying - and some zeppoli recipes even allow you to bake the pastry in the oven - but I didn't want to move away from its origin too much. I made 26 of the crisp balls and to my surprise, they all turned out well, apart from the usual 2 to 3 first trials to find the right temperature setting. It should be relatively low, on medium, so that the inside can cook long enough without burning on the outside - golden and crisp should be the goal. The filling was delicious, fine and aromatic, and a couple raspberries and blueberries on top made it summery fresh. I was more than pleased with the result, and so was my Maltese man, the last zeppoli 'disappeared' after dinner.

There's also a savoury version of this dish, filled with anchovies, however, my imagination fails to give me an idea of how this would taste. I guess I have to go to Malta for this culinary experience. If you're into deep-fried sweets, you can also try my Greek Loukoumades, made with yeast dough.

Have a Happy Easter with your loved ones and enjoy lots of chocolate eggs! xx

Maltese Zeppoli - Fried Cream Puffs with Vanilla Ricotta and Berries

Makes about 26 cream puffs

For the filling

• fresh ricotta 250g / 9 ounces

• flowery honey, such as orange blossom, 1 tablespoon

• freshly squeezed orange juice 1 tablespoon

• vanilla pod, scraped, 1/2raspberries, 1 small handful (about 100g / 3 1/2 ounces)

• blueberries, 1 small handful (about 100g / 3 1/2 ounces)

For the choux pastry

• sunflower oil, about 1 1/2l / 6 cups, to fry the pastry

• unsalted butter 120g / 1/2 cup

• granulated sugar 50g / 4 tablespoons

• fine sea salt 1/8 teaspoon

• water 120ml / 1/2 cup

• plain flour, sieved, 130g / 1 cup

• organic eggs 3

For the topping

• icing sugar

For the ricotta filling, in a medium bowl, whisk the ricotta, honey, orange juice, and vanilla seeds until creamy. Season with honey and vanilla to taste. Keep the ricotta in the fridge until you fill the choux pastry.

In a large, heavy pot, heat the sunflower oil on medium-high heat. Line a large baking dish with kitchen paper.

For the pastry, in a large pot, bring the butter, sugar, salt, and water to the boil. Turn the heat down to low, stir in the flour vigorously with a wooden spoon, and mix until smooth and the dough comes away from the side of the pan. Transfer the dough to a bowl and let it cool for about 10 minutes. Beat the eggs in with a spoon, 1 at a time, only mix in the next one when the one before is well combined.

When the oil is hot - dip in the bottom end of a wooden spoon, little bubbles, should form around it - scoop out 1 heaping teaspoon of the dough and carefully scrape it with a second teaspoon into the hot oil. Start with 2 balls of dough to adjust the temperature, you might have to turn the heat down to medium or a little bit lower. The pastry has to cook for 4-6 minutes for the inside to be cooked through. The outside should be golden and not dark brown. If they become dark after 2-3 minutes, turn the heat down. Transfer the cooked zeppoli to the lined baking dish and continue frying the remaining dough. Let them cool completely.

Using a sharp knife, cut a wide slit in the top part of each zeppoli and fill with a spoonful of the vanilla ricotta. Top with 2-3 berries, sprinkle with icing sugar, and serve. Once the zeppoli are filled, they should be enjoyed within the next hour as the ricotta soaks the pastry.

Spaghetti with Pea Pesto, Roast Garlic, and Fresh Marjoram

So now that spring has officially begun, the leaves on the tree in front of my living room window should start sprouting in fresh crisp greens, the birds should sing all day, and the rosé wine should fill the glasses to welcome the new season. But - apart from the pink wine - there isn't the slightest sign of bright sunshine and rising temperatures in the city. It makes no sense to despair, so I use the kitchen to create the atmosphere I'm after instead. The wine is chilled, the spaghetti's cooked, and a bright green pesto of sweet peas (frozen, I must admit), and fresh marjoram puts me in the right mood. I also roast whole cloves of garlic in their skins in the oven to turn them into a sweet paste. The golden cloves are mashed with a fork and mixed into the pasta - this dish looks like spring, tastes like spring, and makes me forget about grey skies, leafless trees, and my constant lack of sunshine.

This is the last of three recipes I created for Westelm. You can find all three recipes including my Mozzarella, Tapenade, and Preserved Lemon Sandwich and Pumpkin Quiche with Taleggio and Sage on their blog. This post was sponsored by Westelm to make my kitchen a little prettier!

Spaghetti with Pea Pesto, Roast Garlic, and Fresh Marjoram

Serves 2

For the pesto

• peas (fresh or frozen) 200g / 7 ounces

• fresh marjoram leaves 2 teaspoons, plus 2 tablespoons marjoram leaves for the topping

• water used to cook the peas 3 tablespoons

• freshly squeezed lemon juice 2 teaspoons

• olive oil 3 tablespoons

• fine sea saltg

• round pepper

• large garlic cloves, unpeeled, 12-16

• spaghetti 200g / 7 ounces

• black peppercorns, crushed in a mortar

Preheat the oven to 220°C / 425°F.

For the pea pesto, in a small saucepan, bring salted water to the boil and blanch the peas for 1 minute, reserve about 6 tablespoons of the water. Drain and quickly rinse the peas with cold water. Purée the peas, marjoram, 3 tablespoons of the water used to cook the peas, lemon juice, olive oil, salt, and pepper in a blender or food processor until smooth. If the pesto is too dry, add more of the pea-water. Season with salt and pepper to taste and set aside.

Spread the garlic cloves in a baking dish and roast, turning the garlic occasionally, for about 25 minutes or until the garlic is soft enough to mash with a fork - mind that it doesn't burn. Take the garlic out of the oven, let it cool for a minute, then peel the garlic cloves out of their skins and mash with a fork.

In a large pot, bring plenty of salted water to the boil and cook the spaghetti until al dente, drain, and stir in a splash of olive oil.

Divide the spaghetti between plates, sprinkle generously with the pea pesto, crushed pepper, and fresh marjoram leaves. Lay the mashed garlic on top and serve immediately.