Onion Soup with Cheddar Croutons

Up to the age of about 15, I was a bit of a fussy eater. I would often decide what to eat in restaurant by ruling out all the dishes that contained things I didn't like, leaving a choice of only one or two dishes. I got away with being fussy, because I was comparatively normal compared to my siblings. At least I ordered something from the menu. My brother would just demand new creations. Pizza Express was the restaurant of choice as they would happily make a pizza with no tomato, extra ham and extra cheese. I always ordered Mushroom or La Reine. ALWAYS.

Eventually I got bored of this and started eating like a normal person. I even went to the other extreme, picking the thing on the menu that I thought I would least like, just to get over the fussiness. I knew I'd conquered it the day I ordered a Four Seasons pizza (Olives! Capers! ANCHOVIES!)

However, the one fussiness that I couldn't seem to shake was cheese. Mozzarella, cream cheese and Boursin were the only cheeses I'd eat, and only then when combined with other ingredients, preferably strong enough to mask the flavour of the cheese. I remember a family holiday in France, where a particularly insistent waitress asked if I wanted to share a cheeseboard with my parents. No amount of reasoning in English would dissuade her, but a firm "Je deteste le fromage" got the message through. On a field trip at uni we were served macaroni cheese, and just the smell of it made me want to heave.

Onion Soup with Cheese Crouton

I still want to get over my dislike of cheese. I'm slowly getting there. I'm usually fine with cheddars, brie and mild goats cheese. Parmesan and blue cheese still freak me out, but maybe one day I'll get there.

I thought onion soup and cheesy croutons would be a good way to introduce cheese into my diet. I went with a recipe from "Roast Chicken and Other Stories" by Simon Hopkinson, even though I was initially skeptical of pureeing the soup and adding cream. I really liked the tanginess of the vinegar and the wine, and a crouton added interest to the otherwise boringly silky texture.

Smooth Soup and Crunchy Crouton

Onion Soup (from "Roast Chicken and Other Stories")
Makes 4 portions

3 large onions
110g butter
50ml white wine vinegar
250ml dry white wine
600ml chicken stock
300ml double cream

1) Chop the onions into fairly small pieces. Sweat them in the melted butter with salt and pepper in a covered saucepan on a very low heat. After about an hour, they should be very soft and mushy but not coloured.
2) Add in the vinegar, and simmer until it is almost completely evaporated.
3) Add the wine, and reduce by two thirds.
4) Now add the chicken stock. Bring the soup to a simmer and cook gently for 30 minutes.
5) Puree the soup, and return to the heat. Stir in the cream, and reheat the soup, but do not boil. Check the seasoning and serve with a toasted cheese crouton (or 4).

Borscht

After my recent trip to Russia, I have been craving borscht. I've made it once before a few years ago (and stained practically everything I owned red in the process) but it wasn't as good as the stuff I had in Russia.

After reading multiple recipes, and even tweeting about it, I picked the Valentine Warner recipe from "What to Eat Now". It was in two stages, firstly making a meat broth from vegetables, stewing beef and ham hock, and then adding in roast beetroots, parsnips and apples.

Borscht with Sour Cream

The soup should take about 3 hours to make, as the broth and the roasted beetroots both took 2 hours of slow cooking. However, I ended up taking more like 5 hours, as about 2.5 hours in, there was a power cut. Not only did all the lights in the houses go out, the street lights and traffic lights also went out. It was really strange to look out in to the street and see complete black. A couple of stairwells had emergency lighting, but apart from that the only lights I could see were flickering candles or torches. As both the hob and the oven are electric, I just had to abandon the borscht until the power came back on an hour or so later.

I'm not sure if it was this enforced hiatus or the recipe that meant the soup was a little lacking. The initial stages of frying off onions and garlic with dill smelt fantastic, as did the roasted beetroot and adding the meat. I was less convinced about the apples and parsnip and I would skip this if I was making the soup again. Krysia Boo suggested on Twitter to add the juice from re-hydrating dried mushrooms, which I didn't get the chance to this time but will definitely bear in mind in future. I also think next time I would grate the beetroot instead of cubing it, as I didn't like the thin broth with massive chunks in. I prefer my borscht more texturally homogeneous.

Not Quite Up To Russian Standard

I won't bother posting the recipe, as it needs a lot of work before I'm happy with it. I think next time I'll make the meat stock as a stock rather than a broth, and add the dill and onions later on. However, the soup did tick a lot of boxes, and I enjoyed it for my lunch with a good piece of bread and loads of sour cream. It didn't have an overly earthy flavour, and the sweetness of the beetroot was highlighted. A definite starting point for further adventures in borscht.

Scotch Eggs

A while back, my dad spent quite a while telling me that the perfect boiled egg was all about heating the white to a certain temperature, and that if you kept it at that temperature, it would never over-cook. As I've been reading more about the science of cookery, I've found that my dad was correct - an egg cooked at 65C will have a set white and a creamy yolk.

I've also been intrigued by the rise of the scotch egg from Greg's abomination to acceptable gastro-pub fare. They always seem to have a runny yolk, so maybe it was time to apply science to snacking.

Here comes the science bit!

Egg Number 1
Initially I thought the easiest way to keep an egg at 65C without using a fancy-pants waterbath (I don't even have enough worktop space to justify a stand mixer, let alone an water circulator) was in the oven. Although the oven was labeled 60C, it didn't seem particularly hot in there. I could comfortably put my hand in the oven and move the racks around without it burning. The oven thermometer starts at 100C, and the needle was hovering just under this, so I left an egg in there for about 45 minutes.

After the egg had cooled down a bit, I cracked it open. It wasn't firm enough to peel and so in that respect was an epic fail. However, I scooped the egg out of the shell and ate it, and it was amazingly delicious. The yolk was runny and rich, and the white was cooked but still creamy and soft. The only way it could have been better was if there had been some buttered soldiers to dip in it.

Egg Number 2
Next up I decided to try a water bath. Using a sugar thermometer, I heated a saucepan of water to 65C. I was surprised to find that by putting my hob on the lowest setting, that I could maintain this temperature very easily. I occasionally added a little cold water if the temperature started rising, but I only had to do this about twice in the hour or so that I cooked the egg for.

I cracked it open, and initially was quite pleased - the white was set enough to be able to peel the egg, but still wobbly enough to suggest that the yolk would be runny. However, as I continued peeling, it became obvious that the egg was far too fragile to put in to a scotch egg. As I took off the last pieces of shell, the egg collapsed completely.

By some fluke of science, I'd created an inverted egg. The yolk was completely set, and was like a little orange pebble in a pile of white gooey jelly. I ate this egg too. It wasn't as tasty as the first one, but the yolk, while set, was still moist. I'd be quite interested in using this method again to create set yolks that could be used as a garnish or as a component in a dish.

What had happened was that the yolk proteins had set at 65C, as had some of the white proteins. However, one of the proteins in the yolk doesn't set until 80C, so this egg obviously had a higher ratio of this high temperature protein and thus the white was still quite runny.

Egg Number 3
By this point, the leftover sausages that I was planning to use for the scotch eggs were dangerously close to their use-by date. So I wimped out and put two eggs in a cold pan of water, brought them to the boil, and simmered for 8 minutes. They were pretty standard hardboiled eggs.

In future, I think I'd go for a two stage process to find the perfect peelable boiled egg. First a lovely bath at 63-64C, to firm up the white, but keep the yolk runny. Then a quick dip (1-2 minutes) in a 90C bath to firm out the outer layer of the white, so it's possible to peel it without it falling apart. Then maybe a quick shock in iced water to ensure they don't over cook. Hmmm, several different baths and a peel, sounds like a day at a spa hotel.

Baked Scotch Egg

The actual scotch eggs were fairly simple to make - mash up a load of sausage meat (about 2 sausages per egg) and wrap this around the boiled egg. Then roll the egg in some seasoned flour, some beaten egg, and then breadcrumbs. I seasoned the breadcrumbs with a little cayenne pepper to give them a bit of a kick. As you can see from the photos, my wrapping wasn't entirely even, but that wasn't too much of a problem.

Uneven but tasty

As with most Scottish items, a proper Scotch Egg is deep fried. I didn't really want to do this, so I baked them at 200C for 30 minutes, and finished them off in the frying pan to get the breadcrumbs crispy. I think the sausage meat insulates the egg quite well, as when I finally got to scoff the eggs they yolk was still quite moist and not overcooked. They were also delicious later on when they'd been chilled for a while. Even though I'd baked them, you could feel the cholesterol destroying your arteries as you chewed. Perhaps this is not the recipe to repeat until I perfect it...

Mexican Style Spinach and Chicken Wraps

Although I've moved out of my student flat, I don't get the keys to my new flat for another week. My worldly possessions (including my beloved Le Creuset casserole dish and all my baking equipment) are currently languishing in a self storage unit on the outskirts of Edinburgh. In an attempt to actually get our deposit back, I spent 3 days cleaning the flat. A lack of equipment, energy, time and a kitchen meant I hadn't eaten properly for several days.

I'm currently camping at T's until we can move in to the new flat together, so I decided I should attempt to get something vaguely healthy inside me and recover from the last few days so that the next move won't be so stressful. I'd been planning on some kind of avocado and chicken salad, but the avocado was a bit brown and over-ripe. Instead I mashed it up with some chilli, lemon juice and garlic to make a sort-of guacamole.

Spinach and Chicken Wraps

I poached half a chicken breast, and then wilted a couple of handfuls of spinach in a dry pan. The shredded chicken was put in a wrap, alongside the spinach, guacamole and a drizzle of yoghurt. I would have liked some fresh tomatoes in there too, but there were none in the fridge.

The guacamole and chicken were delicious, and the varying greens when I cut the wraps open made me think I should call this something like "tortilla fresca", but my knowledge of Mexican cuisine is only marginally better than Jamie Oliver's, so I thought better of it.

Letting the side down was the spinach. It was a bit healthy tasting for my liking. The taste of iron was overwhelming, and masked the flavours of the guacamole and chicken too much. Perhaps using baby spinach with a milder taste would have been a better plan.

Anyway, this was a tasty little lunch time treat, and has 2 of my five-a-day. Hopefully all those vitamins and minerals will have me raring to go for another round of hardcore box moving next week...

Eating at The Fringe Festival

For the last 20 days, Edinburgh has been busy with the various festivals that are held here during August. There's books, opera, dance, theatre, and a nightly RAF flyover at 9pm on the dot. The biggest of all the festivals is the Fringe, which tends to be mostly comedy with the odd hint of amateur theatricals.

Much of the Fringe takes place in the University Unions. It's very strange to see the bar where you'd go for a cheap drink after lectures packed full of "real" people. Weirder still is that Pleasance Sports Hall is a major venue. Normally, queuing outside Pleasance equals an exam. Queuing with a beer in hand to see stand up messes with my mind.

Most Fringe tickets are unreserved, so you have to stake your place in the queue 30 minutes or so before the show starts if you want a choice of seats - otherwise you can find yourself split up if you are in a big group, or sitting in centre front row for a comedian who likes to pick on the audience. This isn't really a major problem, but for those seeing several shows on the same day, it can mean that once you have traveled between venues, you have little or no time to eat. (Ok, I realise that this is probably only a problem for me, but it is a serious one! You try sitting through an hour of hip-hop theatre when you desperately need some food!)

Assembly Rooms on George Street has a pretty standard cafe on the premises, and the Pleasance complex has a small barbecue van that does ok burgers and sausages, and a small cafe. Pleasance Dome also has the guys from the Mosque Kitchen serving decent curries for bargain prices.

However, the most interesting eating at the Fringe is to be had in Bristo Square, in the courtyard of the Guilded Balloon (otherwise known as Teviot to the locals). With all the American blogs and food sites going mental over gourmet food trucks, it's good to see a few food vans that aren't just burger and chips here in the UK. They're great to grab a snack at in-between shows, and everything is portable should you need to queue and nosh simultaneously.

La Creperie - Not that exciting, but sometimes you *need* a pancake with Nutella.


Wee Hut - Serves several types of wurst, I am going to try the smoked wurst next.


La Favorita Pizza Oven - Features a real wood fired pizza oven (you can see the black chimney at the the top of the photo). Generally very tasty and stays open late. (Although they had a sign today proclaiming themselves "Athur (sic) Smith's Favourite Pizza")


Well Hung and Tender - Comedy name, but seriously good burgers. T was put off by the open air relish station, but I enjoyed using coffee stirrers to sample all the condiments before deciding that the mustard mayo should grace my burger.

Fish Mussels - Not quite in Bristo Square, but around the corner at Hullaballoo. Doesn't serve fish, but does serve mussels in a classic white wine and garlic type sauce.

It also serves these bad boys...


I wasn't sure whether I liked oysters or not. I can't remember ever eating a raw one, and when I can remember eating one, they've always been deep-fried. The oysters are freshly shucked as you order them, and garnished with a squeeze of lemon and a drop or two of Tabasco. However, since plucking up the courage to try one the other day, I've been back for more. Very delicious and a really unusual streetfood option!

Graze - Plus a Free Box!

I heard about Graze from Jess, and signed up to look round the site. As usual, I got distracted and totally forgot about it. The other week, I got a reminder email from Graze, pointing out that although I'd signed up, I'd never actually ordered anything. To tempt me back, they also included a code for a free box.

Graze is basically a healthy snack box, with a large portion of fresh fruit, and two smaller portions of dried fruit, nuts or olives. You can select a nutritional "theme" for your box, such as immunity boosting (I picked this one as I still feel a bit run down and sickly after having pneumonia a few months ago), pre or post-workout*, and energy boosting.

Graze Box

My first box was meant to turn up last week, but I think it got lost in the post (or the postman stole it. A suspiciously large amount of our mail never turns up...) so this was my debut box. When I noted on the Graze website that my box hadn't arrived, I was immediately given the next box for free to make up for it. I was so excited when the postman rang the bell this morning! The box contained: a large punnet of crunchy apples (I can confirm they were indeed crunchy), a punnet of "fire nuts" (chilli almonds, cashews and wasabi peas) and a small punnet of raisins. I wasn't keen on the chilli almonds, but the cashews were amazing! Wasabi peas were a little too hot, but I still happily munched my way through the box. The raisins were also good, being some of the fattest and juiciest I have had in a while.

Fire Nut Selection - chilli cashews, almonds and wasabi peas

Although a Graze box isn't cheap (£2.99 a go) it is very convenient. I don't tend to buy things like dried fruit as I don't eat it often enough, and it just sits in the cupboard. Having a nutritionally controlled portion (1 of the 5-a-day) was good, as normally I would eat about 2 raisins and then wonder if it counted!

Graze are promoting themselves quite heavily at the moment, and seem to be very generous with the free boxes. If you'd like to try them yourself, this code gets you a free box, and £1 will be donated to the Rainforest Alliance.

Enter 5CCT231G at GRAZE.COM

*I have also recently returned to the gym after knackering my old running shoes, messing up my feet and having to get a new pair that was gait analysed! I like that I could get an immunity box one week and then a workout box the next. I am so healthy it hurts.

Khushi's Diner

Many years ago, when I first moved to Edinburgh, T and I went to see March of the Penguins (it was my birthday and I demanded the cuteness). On the way back we stopped at Khushi's by uni for a curry. We had a nice evening and made a note to go back again some day. A few weeks later while on my way to class, I noticed it was boarded up.

Later that term, we went out on Victoria Street and saw that Khushi's had relocated. T was very excited as he loves a good curry. We hurried along to try out the new Khushi's. The back of the menu explained the history, with each incarnation of the restaurant (Victoria Street was the 5th location) the business had adapted and grown.

The interior of the Victoria Street restaurant was almost palatial, with huge chandeliers and glass staircases. It was far more upmarket than your average Indian restaurant, with no flocked wallpaper or dodgy sitar music. Although it was a bit pricier than your average Indian, it was smart enough to impress visitors without totally breaking the bank. Virtually every relative, friend and randomer that turned up to visit us got dragged along to Khushi's.

Last Christmas, I saw on the news that there had been a massive fire in central Edinburgh. I'm always curious to see if it is somewhere I know, but usually it's a warehouse in some random suburb. This time, it was Khushi's.

When T and I returned to Edinburgh after Christmas, we walked past the shell of what remained of Khushi's. It was completely burnt out and didn't look like opening any time soon.

We'd heard rumours that Khushi's were planning to move on and open in a new premises, and while scouting for lunch near uni one day, I saw that Belgian themed Centraal had become Khushi's Diner.

Unlike Victoria Street, the Diner is more cramped, and without luxurious chandeliers and plush banquettes. It's based around the principle "jaldi jaldi" (or "quickly quickly") with cheap and cheerful decor in a clash of bright colours. While Victoria Street sometimes seemed styled by a subcontinental Bond villain, the Diner is more along the quirky Indian style portrayed by the Darjeeling Limited poster in our hallway. The menu is slightly smaller than before, but all our favourites were there. The smaller space also meant we had to wait around 10 minutes for a table, but we were directed to a neighbouring pub to pass the time. The waiter came and found us in the pub when our table was ready!

We started with complimentary poppadoms, and we ordered a selection of chutneys to go with them. The poppadoms were dryly crisp, and the mango chutney nicely chunky. The spicy onions were potent, but tasty in small doses. It's still BYOB, and the beers we had brought with us had been kept refrigerated while we waited for our table.

Tandoori Fish with Raita

T browsed the menu, but it was pointless as he ordered his favourite dish anyway; tandoori mushrooms. When it arrived a few minutes later, he tucked in eagerly, proclaiming it was as good as he'd remembered and that he'd missed it! I went for tandoori fish which had a lovely charcoal crispy crust, and juicy flesh inside. The only downside was that the fish was a little mushy (rather than flaky) in places. It came with a cooling raita and some moreish shredded cabbage.

Next up we shared some plain rice and a garlic naan to accompany our main courses. The naan had a crisp "crust" with a doughy inside, with just a hint of garlic. T had a lamb jalfrezi, while I went for Methi Palak Gosht. Everything came in little bowls, so it made sharing easy, although I found that my second helping was a bit cold by the time I got round to scooping it on to my plate. The lamb was so tender you could cut it with a spoon, and the sauce had enough spinach in it to pretend that it was healthy, but the spices were a bit lost at times.

Methi Palak Gosht, Garlic Naan and Boiled Rice

I have never been much in to Indian desserts, but decided to give them another try. I ordered Gajar Ka Halwa, a carrot pudding with cream, cherries and nuts. The carrot element was promising, but I was put off by the lumps of cooked cream spread throughout the dish. The cherries and almonds went well, although they were quite sparse. I preferred the baklava style pastry T got with his coffee, but next time we go I will try buttermilk dumplings instead.

Gajar Ka Halwa

They also do a lunch menu, with Indian style sandwiches made with puri. It's a shame I've finished uni now, otherwise this would be a regular lunch time stop off, especially when it's to rainy and cold for the Mosque Kitchen.

Press Coffee, Edinburgh

Press Coffee, Buccleuch Street

Press Coffee is in what used to be a second hand bookshop, with a rather dubious hippy cafe underneath. Given that their nachos comprised of some doritos with ketchup on top, I wasn't surprised when it shut down.

I was initially a bit suspicious the first few times I walked past. There was no decor to speak of, with plain white walls and a rather forlorn looking chiller counter in the middle of the floor. For several weeks nothing seemed to happen, and I wondered if it was one of those places that shut down before it even got going.

A week or so later, while eating lunch in Kilimanjaro (a rather nice coffee shop near to uni), I saw on their news bulletin sheet that Press Coffee was essentially a second branch of Kilimanjaro. Having been reassured that it wasn't some dubious ketchup nacho affair, I decided to give it a try.

I ordered Moroccan chicken soup and a cappuccino. I was instantly impressed that I was asked whether I wanted my coffee with the meal or after. I still find it a bit strange drinking coffee with a meal, but as I was pushed for time I opted to have both together. Just as I sat down, the guy at the counter came over to tell me that they'd run out of chicken soup, but had some Thai vegetable instead. I was fine with the switch, although I little disappointed as I do love a bit of Moroccan chicken!

The cappuccino arrived and had an attempt at latte art on it. My flatmate E usually works as a barista during the holidays, and reckons that latte art is always a good sign. Apparently you need several variables to right before you can do it properly, and it indicates that a certain level of care goes in to the coffee.


Although Peter's Yard does the best latte art I've seen in Edinburgh, this was a pretty decent attempt, and the coffee underneath was pretty tasty too. Also, I really liked the spoon. A minor thing, but well designed cutlery always scores bonus points.

The soup came with a massive section of baguette, and a pot of butter. It was generally tasty, although not that memorable. I have visited subsequently and had the paninis, which again, while good, aren't so great that they are worth the visit alone. I think Press Coffee's real strength is that they are very close to uni, and the only places that are cheaper than them serve really bad food and drink. I've already been several times, just because they are easy to get to, good value and I know I'll get a decent meal, unlike the union-run cafes!

I think the biggest disadvantages Press Coffee has are the location and the decor. (I know I just said they had a good location but hear me out.) The coffee is better than most places nearby, and the food is good value, but not so great as to make it worth a special trip for. While they are close to uni, I suspect they could struggle during the summer when that part of town isn't so busy. However, if their business plan revolves around making money during term time to tide over the quieter holiday periods, then they could do ok.

While the decor is not offensive, it isn't exciting either. The white walls, plain seating and strangely placed chiller cabinet make it seem a bit clinical, and it needs to be full to get any kind of atmosphere going. Given that it used to be a book shop, I would have perhaps played on this and made the interior slightly more cosy. The big windows will be spectacular in summer, but seeing as Edinburgh is grey and dull most of the year, I'm not convinced that people want to feel that exposed. Certainly, when I'm looking for somewhere to eat in winter (and most of autumn and spring too), my key factor is warmth. They'll have to really have the radiators on full blast to counteract the "coldness" of the decor when the two days of summer are over!

I'll be interested to see how Press Coffee fairs over the next few months, and it's currently slightly ahead of Kilimanjaro in my opinion, mainly as Kilimanjaro is often too busy to be comfortable. I'd also keep it in mind if you are planning to visit for the festival, as it's close enough to the action (Gilded Balloon and Pleasance Dome are 5 minutes away) to be convenient, but hidden enough that you might actually get a seat.

Dining alone

I am probably one of the few people in the world who prefers to eat out alone. I know this makes me sound like a misanthrope, but let me explain...

I tend to eat out for lunch, partly because I can't afford dinner, but mainly due to my forgetfulness on the packed lunch front. I have good intentions, but I prefer to come home for a hot lunch, especially in the cold weather. However, the distance I live from uni, plus cooking times, means that to get a decent lunch I need a two hour gap. What tends to happen is that I forget about a project meeting, a tutorial overruns, or I end up spending longer than planned looking for a book in the library. Suddenly my two hour gap is gone and I decide to get lunch out. (Actually, it's probably raining and I'm grumpy and can't be bothered to walk home.)

I've realised in the last year or so that going for lunch alone is usually better than trying to get people to come with me. I like to try new places, whereas a lot of my friends always want to go to the same place (a rather nice falafel take away, but there is only so many chickpea based dishes I can take). I also don't like having to deal with other people's food issues. My sister has a lot of food allergies, and my brother is picky, so as a family there were only a few restaurants we visited. It's marginally better now we are all grown up, but when they came to visit me in Edinburgh last summer I spent at least an hour online researching menus to find somewhere everyone could eat something.

The other day I went out for coffee with my flatmate. The cafe is one of my favourites, and I was looking forward to relaxing with a cappuccino and and a delicious baked good. Instead, my flatmate went up to the counter, decided it was too crowded, and ordered to take away. We sat outside in the drizzle and wind, trying to eat cake out of a cardboard box. Then she complained that the icing from the cake had made her hands sticky and that the cake was too hard to eat as it was crumbly. If I'd had my way, we would have waited two minutes for a table, and enjoyed our cake from a plate with a fork.

I also hate it when people complain about the price. If I wanted to eat with the bare minimum of cost, I wouldn't be eating out in the first place. Obviously some places are better value than others, but for me, the price consideration includes the quality of the food. Peter's Yard in the Meadows is probably more expensive than many other coffee shops, but the coffee is easily one of the best in Edinburgh, and the food is much higher quality (and more interesting) than the many other coffee shops serving up ham and cheese paninis and mediocre coffee. When the difference between the total bill is a pound or two, the extra quality in the food is worth that to me. I don't want my enjoyment of a well cooked meal with good ingredients being ruined by someone who just sees food as "fuel" complaining that Burger King does a 99p deal that would have been better.

I suppose it's not really because I don't like eating with other people, it's more because lunch is an important thing for me. I don't have enough money to eat out as much as I would like, so when I do go it's a treat. I don't want my treat spoiled by other people not appreciating it in the same way I do. It's the same kind of feeling as when somebody hates your favourite book or film. I want to enjoy my lunch, and I want the people I'm with to enjoy it too. I don't want to worry about money or other "real world' problems. I want to eat a bowl of soup with some bread, drink a decent coffee and dream that one day I could do something foody instead of just overly savouring my lunch breaks.

I need to find myself a lunch buddy. In first year, I went out for lunch every week with a friend, but that has tailed off a bit now as our schedules don't match up in the same way they did. I guess I should also make the most of lunch out while I can, the job I have got for September is in an office in a business park so opportunities for eating out are limited to a burger van and the on-site canteen. Then I really will have to work the packed lunches!

Jerusalem Artichoke and Carrot Soup

I have become slightly addicted to the Oxfam bookshop, and frequently go in to the one by uni to check out the cookery book selection. The one in Morningside has a better selection of fancy books though, I guess because the people of Morningside have a bit more cash to splash and will give away books that are still pretty current and in good condition. The other day I nabbed the Green & Blacks' Chocolate book for £1.50!

About a year ago I got the New Covent Garden Soup book. My dad has it and I had been trying to decide whether to buy it or just steal my dad's copy, but it was in Oxfam for £2 so I went for it. I've been trying to work my way through but I've probably only done about 10% of the book so far.

I got some Jerusalem artichokes at the famers' market on Saturday, and I'd never eaten them before, so I didn't really know what to expect. As I was making the soup, I sneaked a piece out and tried it. It had the texture of a potato, but a nuttier taste. I still have a couple left so I might make them in to a mash or a mixed vegetable gratin.

I have had mixed results with the NCG book, with some being totally delicious (Chicken, lemon and tarragon) and some being quite disappointing (pappa al pomodoro). This one was quite successful, and I liked the flavour of the Jerusalem artichokes sweetened with the carrot. It also uses milk so it wasn't overwhelmingly creamy.

Recipe (adapted from New Covent Garden Soup Co's Book of Soups)

25g unsalted butter
1 small onion
1 clove of garlic
400g Jerusalem artichokes, peeled
240g carrots, sliced
50g carrots, finely grated
1l chicken stock
110ml milk
salt and pepper

Saute the onion and garlic in the butter on a low heat for 5 minutes until soft, but do not colour them. Add the chopped artichokes and carrots, and give it all a good stir.

After a couple of minutes, add the stock (I used the chicken stock I'd frozen earlier, I used 600ml stock and 400ml water as the stock was quite strong) and simmer for 20 minutes.

Blend it all up, and then add the milk. Stir in the grated carrot to add to the texture. Season the soup to taste.

Et voila!

I found this made about 5 smallish portions, but mine was quite thick, so you could probably water it down a bit if you prefer a thinner texture or need more portions.

Farmer's Market and Scallops

Bright and early on Saturday morning, E, H (two of my flatmates) and myself ventured to the weekly farmers' market in town. Although it was freezing cold, it was better than last time we went as it wasn't raining. It's very rare that you don't encounter some kind of precipitation in Edinburgh, and it did rain later in the day.

I took this photo while we ate breakfast. We did consider the Stoats Porridge van (I am particularly in love with the cranachan variety, although the cold on Saturday was tempting me toward the whisky and honey flavour), but in the end we went for a roast hog roll, with crackling and apple sauce from the Oink van. I love the way they only have one product (a big pig, complete with head and trotters, that slowly gets eaten at the market goes on) and that your only choices are crackling and sauce. No vegetarian option, no low-carb rolls, just pig. Delicious.

We went round the stalls and picked up quite a few goodies. E got a massive red mullet, weighing in at almost half a kilo. He's planning to stuff it with fennel and roast it whole. H got some lemon curd from the dairy woman, and I bought some butter in preparation for the impending butter tasting session.

I also got some Jerusalem artichokes and carrots. I'm planning to make them into soup. I've never had Jerusalem artichokes before so I wonder how they will taste. All the vegetables were still muddy from the field, so when I got home I gave them all a good scrub. It was very satisfying to scrape off the mud and dirt to reveal bright orange carrots underneath. The Jerusalem artichokes were less handsome to look at but they are getting pureed so it doesn't matter!

Lastly, H and I bought 8 scallops to have for lunch. I love scallops but have always been too scared to cook them myself in case I poison someone or just make them taste horrible. We fried off a little garlic in butter, and then added it to some more butter to make garlic topping. The left over garlicky butter in the pan was used to fry the scallops. I was terrified of overcooking them, but also eager to get them a bit brown and warmed through.

We served them on a little bit of pesto with the garlic butter topping. The pesto went well with the corals, and I had my scallops really garlicky, as I love garlic a little bit too much! It was great to have really fresh seafood, and I was pleased that we managed to sear the scallops without making them all rubbery. I think next time I would get the pan hotter as I felt they were a bit too cooked, but some of them weren't caramelised enough.

There are a couple of really good fishmongers around here, plus the farmers' market has 3 or 4 stalls that sell seafood (some of it still alive), so there is no excuse for not eating more fish. It's a shame Scotland has such a bad reputation for food, a lot of the produce is amazing, especially the seafood and game, but it all seems to get exported in favour of deep fried Mars bars...

Scallops with garlic butter and pesto