Tapas party part 1

In an ongoing effort to get rid of the excess food accumulating in my fridge and freezer and wanting to pay back a friend for a recent dinner, I decided to throw a sort of tapas / mezze meal. Finding such exotic delicacies as crayfish from Ikea and beet vodka smoked salmon lurking in the freezer, I fancied the evening would have a wonderful Spanish vibe with me feeling domestic and plentiful bearing plate after plate of amazing tastes to grateful hungry guests.

As so many of these things turn out, the reality was somewhat different. Rather than be delightful and amusing, the mish mash of flavours was just confusing. Pot stickers, fennel and orange salad, middle eastern roasted vegetables with hummus and patatas bravas all have their place, but just not together. Nobody wanted to pick their way through my piece de resistance, the incredibly hard shelled and spiky crayfish, the meagre morsel of meat leaving everyone wondering "is it worth it"? while sucking on bleeding fingers and even the slightest tap of the claw shells sent jets of liquid shellfish shooting all over the kitchen!

There were some winners, however. The frico, (fried Parmesan) was a revelation, like concentrated cheese, incredibly intense and the ridiculously kitsch and retro cheese and pickle on sticks were a big hit, especially with their funky shell cocktail sticks. I made lots and lots of different things for this so I'm just going to give you some vague recipes under each picture. You'd probably be much more successful just choosing 3 or 4 to concentrate on, unless, like me, you have excess Christmas goodies bought with such promise but left to fester in the freezer.

Middle eastern inspired roasted vegetables. 

I have about 10 students from Saudi Arabia right now who often start soothing their homesickness by reminiscing with tales of the food back home. I sit and listen to them passionately describe roasted meats, kebabs, stews and vegetables, such as eggplant with hummus and their wonderful coffee and sticky dates. Salivating, we all eagerly await for 12 o'clock to run out and get some food from the local food court no where near as good as what they have been dreaming about.

I cut half a cauliflower into chunks along with 1 onion, quartered, 2 beets, halved, 1/2 zucchini, sliced into thick chunks and 4 whole, unpeeled garlic cloves. They were drizzled with a good quantity of extra virgin olive oil, 1 tsp salt, a few good twists of black pepper, half a teaspoon of paprika and 2 large pinches of saffron strands. Baked in the oven at 375oF for about 1 hour, they were slightly caramelized and had a faint honey fragrance from the saffron. I squeezed the garlic out of it's skin and added it to the other veg. Some spicy, store bought hummus spooned on top finished it nicely.

Frico (Fried Parmesan)

All I can say about this is that it is like Parmesan nirvana. If you like the salty, strong cheese, you will love it. Very tricky to prepare, it requires a very deft hand at turning over the slices while still molten, inevitably causing some buckling which only serves to increase the intensity. When cold, they become crispy and can be eaten like a cracker. Thank you to Canal House Cooking Volume 4 for this little treat.

My best attempt, which strangely enough, was number 1. I lost my touch thereafter.

Fennel, orange and pine nut salad with a honey mustard dressing

So often I buy fennel with little or no idea what I am going to do with it. I don't think I'm even that fond of the aniseed taste. Once I made a Jamie Oliver recipe which braised it in a bath of white wine and tomato, garnished with black olives. It was sublime. I vaguely remember using it in some sort of gratin with cheese and breadcrumbs, providing a crispy, tasty topping to the melting-ly soft fennel below, but that's about it. Neil's not a huge fan, so usually I skip it. Sometimes, however, I am seduced by it's beauty and buy one with good intentions. This time I decided to let the full aniseed flavour shine through, untempered by the mellowing that cooking it provides.

One bulb of fennel was sliced very finely and soaked in icy cold water for 1 hour to help it retain its crunch. Drained and dried, I added 1 naval orange, cut into segments, a handful of pine nuts, dry roasted in a pan for a few minutes, the feathery leaves from the top of the bulbs and 1 chili, sliced finely. For the dressing I mixed 1 tsp Dijon mustard with 1 tsp orange blossom honey, 1/2 tbsp red wine vinegar, 1 tbsp olive oil and 1/4 tsp salt. It was good enough but not outstanding.

Candied baby crabs. Bought from a kooky Japanese shop. The most peculiar mix of sweet, fishy crunch. We ate one each to show how brave we were and then put them back in the cupboard where they will probably never see the light of day again.

Cheese and pickled onions on cocktail sticks

Picture the scene. 1970's UK. The stereo playing Slade's Merry Christmas for the umpteenth time. Paper crepe and tinsel hanging artfully around the house, a Christmas tree twinkling with multi coloured fairy lights. All around are flares, psychedelic shirts and platform heels adorning everyone and cheese chunks, pickle or pineapple stuck onto cocktail sticks and arranged in a circle stabbed into half an orange wrapped in tin foil. Of course there would also be cheese footballs, twiglets, Ritz crackers and the obligatory sausage rolls. 

Neil so adores sausage rolls he still complains about the fact that we were not allowed to have them at our wedding. On his suggestion that they be part of the evening buffet, he was met with disgusted wrinkled noses and the proclamation that "they are not really fashionable anymore Mr Ambler"! He was devastated and still swears he should have smuggled a plate full in himself.

Fol Epi, Le Marechal and cave aged Gruyere. Three elegant cheeses made infinitely more graceful by being pierced with novelty cocktail sticks and snuggled next to a pickled onion.