Three continents in a pan: stir-fried spinach with chorizo and onions

Considering what I stash in my cupboards, it's no wonder most of my cooking is some kind of fusion. Whether 'improving' French stews with Thai fish sauce or spiking hommous with dried lime powder, the Post-Modern culinary pastiche is the order of the day.

Today's lunch was whipped up at the epistemic crossroads of Thai, Spanish and West African cuisines: the classic Thai phat phak fai daeng was made with Asturian chorizo as well as African spinach, onions and Scottish bonnet peppers, proving a very happy marriage.

1. Slowly saute a lot of crushed garlic with a tad of finely chopped Scottish bonnet pepper.
   
2. Add sliced chorizo and fry on a medium fir until it makes the oil red.
   
3. Add some chopped tomatoes and red African onions, fry until the onions are soft.
   
4. Add a lot of chopped African spinach (it's more robust and sweeter than the regular one) and fold into the mixture. Fry until the spinach retain just a bit of crunch.
   
5. Season with Thai fish sauce.
   
   
6. Serve with steamed rice.

Pisto manchego (the best recipe)

The most satisfying recipe for that simple and hearty Manchego farmer treat, the pisto.

1.  Sautee  crushed garlic in olive oil.
2. Add chopped onions, red bell peppers and tomatoes.
3. Season with salt, black and red pepper.
4. Serve on top of slices rustic bread, topped with fried bacon dices and fried egg.

Givry Le Bois Chevaux Grand Cru vs. La Casita: Emperor's new clothes

he two bottles on the picture could not have come to me via more different routes. The left, Givry Le Bois Chevaux Grand Cru - from a bloomingly swell party in the City. No surprise, its estimated market value is around 50 quid.

The right one, the humble Spanish La Casita in a plastic bottle - from bmi's Cairo flight, economy class.

I was planning on quaffing the former for dinner and use the latter to deglaze a steak. In reality, it was the reverse that came to pass. The Givry turned out to taste like a very tannic Beaujolais Nouveau would have (cringe!), while La Casita proved very quaffable, if unpretentious, indeed.

What a case to demonstrate that most of human consumption is symbolic!

Patatas bravas: improved Spanish recipe

antasies can sometimes be better than real life. It happens to me very often that I come up with a better recipe than the original one when trying to recreate dishes I have tried (like my impoved jeyuk bokkeum) and especially those I never have.

I remember skimming through the Eyewitness Spain Guidebook before my first trip to Spain. The colourful page dedicated to "flavours fo Spain" got my attention for a while. Patatas bravas was described as potatoes in a tangy tomato sauce with parlsey and white wine. Wow, that description alone got my creative and stomach juices flowing.

Little knowing that in reality they are miserly French fries drizzled with bottled chili sauce, I got down to figuring out the recipe. Here is the fruit of my imagination that beats the orignal version hands down with a huge spiked stick.

1. Sauté sliced garlic and red onions in olive oil until golden brown.
2. Add chopped tomatoes with juice, one finely chopped chili pepper and a glug of white wine.
3. Mix well and allow to simmer until the smell of alcohol evaporates.
4. In the meantime, slice potatoes Pont-Neuf style (thicker and chunkier than usual) and cook in the microwave (or oven if you got time for that!) until almost ready with just a wee bit of crunch left.
5. Fold the potatoes into the tomatoes and leave to soak in the juices.
6. Serve with chopped parsley, freshly ground black pepper and grated extra mature cheddar or parmiggiano.

P.S. 01/09/2014 I just realised I actually re-invented a recipe for Arab batata kharra absolutely independently. Wow. Kudos to me.

Patatas Bravas: an improved recipe

Pejines salados: maternity ward's most wanted

n Russia, conventional wisdom has it that if you have a craving for salted fish, you must be preggers. I must be permanently knocked up then, because the craving never goes away. If allowed, I could eat a pack an evening. Luckily, it is not that widely available in London because African dried fish that they sell in Brixton needs to be cooked before consumption. Not your beer snack, in other words.

However, God is faithful, God provides. Just when I had run out of cured tyulka that Victoria brought me from Moscow, most serendipitously, I stumbled upon these beauties called pejines. It took a 4-hour flight from London and a trip to Tenerife's Auchan (called there Alcampo) to get hold of it, but serendipity tends to happen to those on the move.

Much saltier and somewhat leaner than Russian tyulka, pejines should be given out for free in pubs to make people drink inordinate amounts of beer.

Merci Monsieur Lindt: Crema Catalana chocolate

hat a better souvenir from Barcelona can you bring than a bar of Crema Catalana chocolate? Monsieur Lindt was gracious enough to even add crunchy bits of caramelised sugar that normally forms at the top of crema catalana. Scrumptious!

Asturian fabada: pork and beans stew

Fabada is an Asturian dish from Northern Spain made of beans and pork. I was lucky enough to buy the pork mix - tocino, morcilla, chorizo and ham - in Madrid and the fava beans you can buy in any market in Amsterdam.

Beans are always a bit of a pain to cook but I managed to restrain myself from buying canned ones and went through the whole nine yard of trouble cooking them myself. Considered the amount of gas I burnt doing that, meat might have been a more enviromentally responsible option after all, whatever the tree-hugging mafia may claim.