This is the third of three recipes developed in partnership with Parmigiano Reggiano

I had no idea how prominently pizza would feature in my lockdown experience. I used to frequent my local pizzeria (Theo’s in Camberwell) at least once a week for a bubble-crusted beauty topped with scotch bonnet ‘nduja, or anchovies, olives and capers. Occasionally, I’d go classic and order a Margherita, but I’d always have a plate of mortadella and pickled chillies to start and finish by swiping the last piece of dough through a pool of their famous chilli sauce.

When the pizzeria closed I was left pining along with so many others, missing their own regular haunts. Photos of homemade attempts (good and bad) appeared on Instagram as we all tried to recreate a slice or eight of our favourite carbohydrate.

Then one day, Theo’s reopened for delivery! Even better, my boyfriend, recently unemployed thanks to the virus, began delivering pizzas to the local hospital for them, as part of a public donation scheme. Soon, we had a steady supply not only of pizza but of *free* pizza. We found our happy place amid the Corona-chaos.

One evening my boyfriend called me during his shift; he’d come off the bike thanks to a nasty pothole, flown over the handlebars and broken his collarbone (and three ribs for good measure). His pizza delivering days were over, but at least he’d been right outside the hospital when it happened.

Someone else delivers the pizzas now, and although we still order them, I’ve also started making some at home, as a kind of make-peace-with-pizza activity. They’re great cooked on the barbecue where temperatures are high, but I wanted to crack an indoor version, just because.

 

 

It’s cooked in a cast-iron frying pan, which can get suitably hot before it’s popped under the grill to brown the top. It has a bubbly crust, crisp bottom and soft insides and I’m very happy with it. It’s topped with creme fraiche, spiked with a generous amount of garlic, which is creamy yet fresh, and somehow lighter than cheese but with a comparable mouthfeel. Almost like a pizza that learnt to self dip.

The lack of mozzarella also makes way for plenty of Parmigiano Reggiano to finish, which is grated over at the end so it stays fluffy. Interestingly, any Parmigiano Reggiano which is sold pre-grated must take place in the area of origin, which is admirable dedication to protecting PDO status. I promise I’m only grating mine for personal use, officer. I’d love to visit the region one day and see the cheese being made; it’s produced in only a small area of Northern Italy including the provinces of Parma, Reggio Emilia, Modena, Mantua to the right of the river Po and Bologna to the left of the river Reno, over a surface area of approximately 10,000km. Specific enough for ya? Thankfully, there are no restrictions on area of consumption.

Garlic Creme Fraiche, Mushroom and Parmigiano Reggiano Pizza Recipe

Makes 2 pizzas

250g ‘00’ flour
1 teaspoon dried yeast
½ teaspoon salt
Large pinch sugar
160ml water
500ml creme fraiche
3 cloves garlic, grated or crushed
250g mushrooms, thickly sliced
Big knob of butter
A couple of tablespoons fresh thyme leaves
Plenty of Parmigiano Reggiano

Mix the flour, yeast, sugar and salt, then add the water and mix until you have a dough. Knead very briefly until just smooth, then cover and allow to rest overnight at room temp.

The next day, tip the dough onto a lightly floured surface, divide into two balls, cover loosely and leave for about an hour.

Combine the garlic, creme fraiche and a couple of teaspoons of thyme leaves in a bowl, seasoning with salt and pepper.

Melt the butter in a frying pan over medium heat and add the mushrooms. Cook, with minimal stirring for 5-10 minutes, or until there’s no liquid left and the mushrooms have started to colour. Stir the mushrooms, season, then set aside.

Heat a cast-iron frying pan/skillet over medium-high heat for 5 minutes. Preheat your grill to medium.

Use your hands to stretch one ball of dough into a pizza shape, leaving it a bit thicker at the crust.

Place the dough into the frying pan and cook for a minute or so until the top begins to dry out. Add your creme fraiche and mushrooms. Cook for a couple of minutes more, then add a little more thyme, a good grating of Parmigiano Reggiano and pop under the grill under starting to turn golden in places.

Garnish with plenty more Parmigiano Reggiano and serve.

This recipe is the first of three produced as part of a paid partnership with Parmigiano Reggiano.

Turns out lying around on the sofa isn’t all that great for your mental health, then. Who knew? People need purpose, which is usually what employment brings. It’s the same with cleaning your living space or doing some exercise – those tasks we put off generally make us happier in the long run.

Creating something is nourishing – be it a painting or a plate of food – and keeping things simple maximises the chances of positive reward. Even the most straightforward cooking, like mashing potatoes or boiling an egg to plomp on top of instant noodles can be the difference between a good day and a forgettable one.

I know there are lots of you who enjoy cooking but aren’t interested in spending hours over it, or queueing outside a specialist shop on the off chance they’ll have the right ingredient. I wanted to come up with some simple recipes that still have big flavour, as you know I don’t do timid when it comes to cooking.

This brings me to Parmigiano Reggiano, who I’m working with again because I love their product but also because it’s a particularly useful cheese to have around right now – it keeps for ages and adds lots of umami, even in small amounts. The intensity comes from the minimum maturation period of 12 months (fun fact: it has the longest ageing period of any PDO cheese) and it can mature for up to 48 months, by which time it has a strong, spiced flavour. It’s incredible to think that something so flavourful is made from just three ingredients: raw, unpasteurised milk, rennet and salt.

I’ve used it here in scones, which as we all know are so simple a child can make them. In fact, the success of scones really lies in not getting involved with them too much at all, barely handling the mix before cutting. I’ve kept the flavour simple by adding chives to the cheese and topping with chilli butter, but you could add nigella seeds or dried herbs maybe, depending on what you have in the cupboard. They’re light, crumbly and properly comforting with a big, deeply-brewed mug of tea.

Parmigiano Reggiano and Chive Scones with Chilli Butter Recipe

Makes 12-14, depending on size

450g plain flour
4 teaspoons baking powder
120g cold butter
1 teaspoon salt
200g Parmigiano Reggiano, finely grated
300ml milk
3 tablespoons chopped chives
1 teaspoon English mustard powder
1 egg, beaten, for glazing

For the chilli butter

Butter
Chilli flakes

Preheat the oven to 220C (fan) and grease two baking trays.

Combine the flour, baking powder, salt and mustard powder in a mixing bowl.

Grate the butter into the mixture (this is easiest if you hold it using a piece of the packet, so it doesn’t melt in your hand), then rub it in using your fingertips until the mixture resembles crumbs.

Add the chives and grated Parmesan and mix well.

Make a well in the centre and pour in the milk, bringing the dough together until just combined – it should still look shaggy. Don’t handle it any more than necessary.

Tip the dough onto a very lightly floured work surface and gently pat it into a rectangle around 2cm thick.

Use either a circular cutter or something round such as a glass to cut circles (or use a knife to make squares if you prefer).

Place on the baking trays and brush with the beaten egg. Bake for 12-15 minutes, until golden. Place on a wire rack to cool a little – they’re good when they’re still slightly warm.

Make the chilli butter by mashing the two ingredients together, to taste. Spread on the still warm scones!

This is a recipe I’ve developed as part of a paid partnership with Parmigiano Reggiano.

It’s only in recent years I’ve begun to throw myself into seasonal cookery as part of my plan to reclaim Christmas as something more my own, rather than focusing on all the aspects I don’t enjoy (see: the whole religious festival thing, the stress, tinsel). Obviously, the social side is fun, and it’s nice to have a break – even if I didn’t bloody choose to have one thankyouverymuch – but for me, it’s about trying to enjoy myself in non-traditional ways and not get annoyed with gaudy lights and forced participation.

I’ve chosen to buy a non-traditional tree, for example. I was always whining that I didn’t like the green pointy variety, so why did I ever consider buying one? Mine’s a willowy silver number covered with food-themed baubles and a crab on top instead of an angel. So there.

Please don’t for a moment think I am judgemental about the ways in which others enjoy Christmas because nothing could be further from the truth. I think there is a lot of pressure at this time of year to do things a certain way, and what I’m trying to say is that it’s helped me a lot to find my own path.

Food can become oddly competitive too, which is a shame because it’s arguably the best thing about Christmas {insert caveat about family time here}. Over the years I’ve developed some recipes which have become firm favourites (these sausage rolls with whisky caramelised onions for example) and some which are popular newcomers (looking at you, Brussels sprout kimchi).

I think one thing we can all agree on is that it’s necessary to ensure a steady stream of snackage, and these croquettes are a perfect little bite. They’re just mashed potato, bacon, Brussels and plenty of Parmigiano Reggiano made into balls and deep-fried, and you could easily swap in some leftover ham or other greens if you felt like it.

The Parmigiano Reggiano brings moreish savouriness and depth of flavour, plus it’s very handy to have around at this time of year – try grating it onto puff pastry and twisting into straws before baking for the easiest last-minute party snack for example, or use as a filling for palmiers with anchovy. It would be great in some miniature tartlets with crab as a smart starter, or try adding to stuffing for a savoury note that will keep people guessing.

The most important thing is not to stress, and I think one of the nicest ways of hosting at Christmas is to invite people round, tell them to bring their own bottles, make a big pile of literally just one snack and have them dig in. These are cute and filling enough to keep everyone satisfied and you don’t have to faff about with multiple tasks. They work nicely with a quick n’ dirty dip made with mayonnaise, a touch of yoghurt, chives, garlic and more Parmigiano Reggiano. Dive in, kick back and try not to worry about what on earth you’re going to buy that cranky old uncle you don’t particularly care for.

Parmigiano Reggiano, Bacon and Brussels Sprout Croquettes Recipe

Makes 25-30 croquettes, depending on size

700g potatoes for mashing such as Maris Piper
2 egg yolks, plus 2 whole eggs for coating
100g grated Parmigiano Reggiano
120g Brussels sprouts, stalks removed and finely shredded
240g bacon (8 thin rashers), large pieces of fat removed and finely diced
Flour, for coating
Breadcrumbs, for coating
Oil, for frying

Cook the potatoes in salted water, then mash them until very smooth.

Add the bacon to a hot, dry frying pan and cook until just beginning to crisp, then add the sprouts and stir well. Cook, stirring, just until the sprouts have softened.

Mix mashed potatoes, Parmigiano Reggiano, sprouts, bacon and some salt and pepper. Taste for seasoning, then add the yolks and mix well.

Roll into walnut-sized balls and chill for at least 2 hours.

When you’re ready to cook the croquettes, cover one plate with flour, another with beaten egg and another with breadcrumbs. Using one hand for dry ingredients and one for wet, coat each ball in flour, then egg, then crumb.

Heat oil for deep frying to 180C. Turn an oven on low (50C or thereabouts).

Cook the croquettes in batches of 4 or 5, turning often, until golden brown all over (2-3 minutes should do it).

Drain on kitchen paper and transfer to the oven to keep warm while you cook the rest.

For the dip, I just mixed few tablespoons of mayo with a couple of yoghurt, a squeeze of lemon, a clove of garlic and plenty of grated cheese. Garnish with a few chives and you’re all set.

This the second of two recipes I’ve developed for a paid partnership with Parmigiano Reggiano. 

‘Have you ever made gnudi before?’ D dared to joke when I suggested this recipe. He’s referring to the time I made hundreds of them for a supper club and by the time I’d done a couple of practice runs and the actual event (220 required) I’d really had enough. The upshot is that I’m really good at making gnudi though, so you can now reap the benefits.

I served them with crab and pickled wild garlic buds but this time kept things more classic in an effort to show off the Parmigiano Reggiano. Now, let me tell you what I have learnt about gnudi. Firstly, there’s a lot of talk on the internet about how difficult they are to make. They are not. Second, you don’t need to leave them for days in the fridge to form a skin around the outside – a few hours will do just fine; basically, you can leave them in the fridge for anything between three hours and three days. After that, they tend to go a bit tough. Finally, it’s true that using expensive ricotta will save you time and taste better but it’s rubbish that the gnudi simply won’t work with supermarket ricotta (but you will need to strain it overnight). I made these gnudi with supermarket ricotta and frankly it makes a nice blank canvas at which to throw huge flavours.

One of those is the Parmigiano Reggiano, which you know is going to be excellent because its manufacture is governed by a strict set of rules, right down to the diet of the cows whose milk it’s made from. The rules specify that 50% of the cows’ diet must consist of ‘forage’ grown on the dairy farm and 75% of it must be local. It’s the forage that determines the positive bacterial flora, establishing a link with the land and therefore the cheese’s PDO status. The milk is raw when it’s used to make the cheese, and it’s combined with just natural calf rennet and salt. Rules like this please me greatly. See also: Neapolitan pizza and Parma ham.

What doesn’t please me is ‘rules’ people post on the internet which are simply incorrect. I urge you to try making gnudi then, particularly if you’ve been intimidated by them, as I once was! They’re incredible: fluffy cheese balls which are served with a sauce made entirely from butter. If that doesn’t get you excited then you’re on the wrong website.

Parmigiano Reggiano, Ricotta and Spinach Gnudi with Anchovy-Garlic Butter Recipe

Makes approx 28

300g ricotta
300g spinach
100g Parmigiano Reggiano, grated finely
3 egg yolks
40g plain flour
Coarse semolina, for coating and storing

8 anchovy fillets
4 cloves garlic (or more! Up to you)
100g butter
A squeeze of lemon juice

For the crumbs

200g stale sourdough (a day or two old, not rock hard)
3 tablespoons oil from a jar of anchovies

Place the ricotta into a brand new jay cloth or piece of muslin and tie it up at the top with string. Suspend this over a bowl in the fridge and leave overnight.

The next day, wash the spinach and put it in a saucepan with water still on the leaves. Gently wilt over medium heat with the lid on, stirring halfway through. Spread out to cool and then squeeze out as much water as possible. I find this is easiest using a clean cloth to squeeze it.

Chop the spinach finely and mix it with the strained ricotta, Parmigiano Reggiano, egg yolks, flour, and some salt. Roll into balls a bit smaller than a ping pong ball.

Make a bed of semolina on a plate and roll each ball in it. When all the gnudi are coated, pour more semolina on top and put them in the fridge, uncovered for at least 3 hours and up to 3 days.

Make the crumbs by blitzing the sourdough in a blender and frying in the anchovy oil until crisp. Drain on kitchen paper.

Make the sauce by melting the butter and gently melting the garlic and anchovies into it. Squeeze in some lemon juice to taste.

To cook the gnudi bring a pan of water to the boil and gently lower them in. They’ll take just a couple of minutes to cook and are ready when they float to the top. Pop them into the pan with the butter to take on a little colour and serve, scattered with the crumbs.