Za'atar-Topped Naan Breads

I have gone spice-crazy at my local Waitrose. Noticing that they stock the whole Bart spice range, I decided to spend some of my John Lewis (which you can also spend at Waitrose - who knew?) Christmas vouchers on the whole gamut of exotic delights adorning the racks of dried herbs, spices, rubs, marinades, potions, tinctures and unctions.

Ras-el-hanout (four-bloody-quid-thankyoumuchly) is some kind of translation for 'best spices in the house', and is a heady mixture of the pungent and fragrant. The mix can vary from place to place, but mine contained  cinnamon and clove, together with coriander and cumin - and rose petals, among other things. What a weird idea, but very very effective. A sprinkle on to a salmon fillet and a quick roast in the oven, and you have a feast, rather than a meal.

Sumac. Ahhh, sumac. It seems that every Londoner I have spoken to recently has told me about eating some houmous sprinkled with an amazing mystical sour-tasting orange-coloured spice, in a Lebanese restaurant, which justified the menu price of £6 for a starter portion. After their enquiry of the reluctant waiter, it became apparent that the secret is sumac. And what a find! £2 for a big jar means that my shop-bought houmous will magically taste six times more expensive. And guess what? It does.

Za'atar (yup, another four quid). A blend of dried wild thyme, sesame seeds and some of that spicy cocaine (err, sumac again) is the only thing to adorn freshly made bread. Mrs Ribeye and I live above a Middle Eastern grocer, who along with the dodgy baked beans ('Multipack. Not to be sold separately') and questionable brand toilet paper, does do a nice line in pitta bread with a fabulous thick dark herby coating. Until now, I had no idea this was za'atar.

So, with my bag of spicy delights in my eager-with-anticipation sweaty palm, I hotfoot it home to start cooking for my Saturday night dinner party. The only problem: Which spices do I use in tonight's menu? The answer: All of them. Problem solved.

I cooked ras-el-hanout salmon with a sumac and garlic yoghurt sauce, together with rice and salad. And these breads on the side. Bingo. All three purchases in one fell swoop. Did they go together well? Yes! The salmon was rubbed with the 'ras' a full day earlier to allow the flavours to fully intermingle and penetrate. The yoghurt sauce was subtle enough not to overpower the fish, but was still redolent enough with sumac to let my buddies know that there was something special going on, and the bread was - well the bread was incredible actually. In fairness, not incredible enough to entirely stop me popping downstairs to Mazur's shop to buy his pittas, but incredible enough to think twice.

Bread-making may be more time-consuming than a quick trot down the rickety staircase, but it is so much more rewarding to be able to tell your mates that you made the stuff yourself. Being a good bread buyer is not quite as cool than being a good baker. Even in central London.

Price-wise, home-made bread is a HUGE win. I made eight breads (1 each for my greedy guts friends, plus leftovers for lunch today) for the princely sum of £1.50. Even if za'atar is pricey for a whole tin, I only used a scant half-teaspoon per bread, which means that this recipe comes in at a less-than-fancy 20 pence per serving. Certainly cheaper than that Lebanese restaurant (but then, they probably put sumac on their bread too).

Serves 8

INGREDIENTS:

500g strong white bread flour
1 level tablespoon salt
1 tablespoon sugar
7g dried yeast
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 beaten egg
150ml milk, warm
150ml yoghurt
2 tablespoons sunflower oil, plus a little extra for the baking sheets and for glazing the breads before cooking
3-4 tablespoons of za'atar
1 tablespoon of rock salt, for sprinkling

In a large pot, mix all of the ingredients - not the za'atar or rock salt - together (much as I do for my Regular Bread Recipe) and prove it, then form into hamburger-shaped breads. Transfer to oiled baking sheets, smear the tops with more sunflower oil, then liberally with the za'atar and rock salt, and allow to prove for a second time. Preheat oven to the maximum setting (230-240c) and place the breads onto the highest shelf. Cook for about 20 minutes, or until the breads are golden, crispy and risen. Remove from the oven and serve still warm.

Lyonnaise Pizza

This recipe has got to be the ultimate comfort food.


Mrs Ribeye and I were on our way home from our summer holiday in Nice on the French Cote d'Azur and we decided to stop off in Reims for lunch before making our way towards the north coast, and the ferry home.

We had eaten the most repulsive lunch in Lyon a day or two earlier and were just starting to get over the 'tripe incident' when a lunch item on the menu in a beautiful pavement cafe caught my eye: Lyonnaise pizza. Could that mean cows entrails on bread? Is it a calzone filled with bull's testicles?

I dared not ask the waiter, but I was intrigued, so I ordered it without asking for any of the grizzly details (masochist? Moi?). Mrs Ribeye had played it safe by ordering spaghetti bolognese (wimp) but I had to be the big boy, didn't I.

Mrs Ribeye was presented with a steaming bowl of delicious pasta, and I was presented with this - an innocuous looking salami and cheese pizza. Or so I thought...

One slice into the pie was all it took to realise that you can't judge a pizza by its cover. The salami and cheese topping hid a bed of Lyonnaise potatoes over a pizza base. No tomato sauce. No herbs. No olive oil.

So, the Lyonnaise pizza is this: A thin stone-baked pizza base, covered in a layer of creamy garlicky potatoes, covered in cheddar (NOT mozzarella) cheese, covered in thick salami. What an invention. And... I LOVED IT!!!

This is an absolute abomination of a pizza and should not even be called a pizza - it is was it is : A hangover cure. Can you imagine how many calories are in this thing? Anyway, PLEASE make it. Just don't eat it for lunch.

This dish comes in just on budget at £5 for a large pizza, which is enough for two - meaning that you are under your Potless budget at £2.50 per serving. Bon appetit. Pass the Alka Seltzer.

Serves 2

INGREDIENTS:

1 large potato, peeled and cut into 5mm thick slices
100ml double cream
Half an onion, finely chopped
1 clove of garlic, finely chopped
Pinches of salt and pepper
Third of my bread dough recipe
Large handful of grated cheddar cheese
10 thick cut slices of salami

In a small pan, simmer the potatoes, onion and garlic in the double cream until cooked (20 minutes approx) and the sauce has thickened, then allow cool to room temperature. Preheat your oven to 220c. In the meantime, on an oiled baking tray, stretch the dough until it is of an even 1cm thickness. Spread the cooled potatoes over the base and top with the cheese. Arrange slices of salami over the top and bake in the oven for 20 minutes. Allow to cool for a minute or two before serving.

Pepperoni and Pineapple Deep Pan Pizza

I have no idea where I got this combination of toppings for a deep pan pizza from. It's a bit of a hybrid of a pepperoni pizza and a Hawaiian-style ham and pineapple pizza.

While I'm on the subject of Hawaiian pizzas, I'll bet you a million quid that if you went to Oahu or Honolulu and you walked into a pizzeria, you would not find an authentic ham and pineapple pizza on the menu. There may be one there in an ironic stab at self promotion, due to the Hawaiian pizza's fame abroad, but surely the invention of adding ham to pineapple and calling it 'Hawaiian' is a purely English thing?

It's like 'Cajun' seasoning. There are a thousand UK supermarket ready meals comprising a dust-covered chicken breast, calling itself 'Cajun'. I'm tempted to fly one down to New Orleans to ask the locals what they think of it.

Or 'Chicago deep pan pizzas'. Can it be true that it was in Chicago that someone thought of making a pizza base thicker than normal? What were they doing in Italy for all of those years? A huge wasted opportunity by the Italians to claim the deep pan pizza as their own, I must say.

Anyway, enough of my ranting, and on with the recipe. I had my friends Natalia and Fiona over last night for our first ever al fresco dining experience on our roof terrace. The weather was JUST about ok to eat outside, but I decided I could offer something to warm the fires from within - and this pizza was the perfect thing.

Just make sure you use a good wad of dough for the deep pan pizza base, and cook it on a moderately hot 210c to ensure the the base is crisp, while leaving the topping all golden and cooked - but not burnt.

So why the pepperoni and pineapple? Well, I suppose it was because I always quite enjoyed, as a child, the old Hawaiian pizzas that you can get from any old take away place, but felt that the blandness of the ham didn't quite offset the super-sweetness of the tinned pineapple chunks. Swap the ham for a spicy pepperoni, however, and the balance is perfect. Try it, you'll never go Hawaiian again.

I'm calling this combination 'Corsican'-style pizza. Why? Why not.

Pizza making at home is more delicious, easier, healthier, quicker and cheaper than buying one from your local takeaway. I knocked one up in 45 minutes, from making the dough to taking it out of the oven. £1.50 per serving is it will set you back - about a quarter/fifth of the price of the pizza delivery guys.

Serves 4

INGREDIENTS:

500g Pizza Dough
4 tablespoons sun-dried tomato pesto, or tomato puree
100g mozzarella, grated
100g pepperoni
100g pineapple chunks
1 teaspoon of dried oregano
Pinches of salt and pepper

Preheat oven to 210c. Spread the dough out onto an oiled baking sheet, to an even 2cm thickness, and spread it with the pesto or tomato puree. Sprinkle the cheese evenly over the sauce and dot with the pepperoni and pineapple chunks. Sprinkle the oregano over the pizza and place it on the top shelf of the oven. Cook until the top is golden and bubbling (20-25 minutes approx). Serve hot.

Sun-Dried Tomato Pesto Bread

You gotta love irony. Drought warnings by the Environment Secretary, followed by the wettest April on record.

Does that mean that we will avoid a hosepipe ban this summer? Of course not. Water, like everything else at the moment is scarce - or that's what the Government likes you to believe. Me? I don't believe a word I hear in the papers, or by politicians on TV. Everyone has an agenda, mainly leading to the hardworking taxpayer working harder and paying more tax.

Let's start a new country like the guy a read about who owns an island in the Seychelles, called Moyenne. He paid £8000 for it in 1964 and now it's worth millions. Of course, if pirates tried to take it over he'd ask the mainland Police to intervene - which costs money, paid for out of taxes. Is there no end?

Anyway, I don't care about scarcity, because without it I couldn't validate my fabulous site offering meals for under £3 per serving. Long live austerity!!!

Today's recipe is a perfect example why the current system does not work. Regular supermarket bread is pappy, bland stodge. DON'T BUY IT!!! I started making my own bread a little while ago, and I haven't bought a loaf of medium-sliced since. Bread dough takes ten minutes to make, a half hour to cook and is a quarter of the price of shop-bought bread. Oh, and it tastes incredible. I bet you could make a loaf from scratch quicker than it would take you to go the shops and buy its inferior equivalent.

The sun-dried tomato pesto is so delicious and easy to make, that I keep a jar in the fridge to use in couscous or pasta dishes, or simply to use as a dip for crudites.

Cost? £1 per loaf, at the current rate of inflation.

Serves 4-6 (Makes a large 500g loaf)

INGREDIENTS:

50g sun-dried tomatoes, in 2 tablespoons of their marinating oil
1 tablespoon of parmesan cheese
1 tablespoon of pine nuts
1 teaspoon each of dried basil and oregano
1 clove of garlic
Pinches of salt and pepper
Half of my Easy Bread Dough Recipe, proved once only

In a blender, blitz the tomatoes, oil, cheese, pine nuts, garlic, herbs and seasonings until smooth, and set aside. On an oiled baking sheet, pound the dough into a rough oval, 5cm thick. Spread the dough with the sun-dried tomato pesto and allow the dough to rise for a second time. Preheat oven to 200c. After an hour or so of proving, bake in the oven until golden and crunchy and hollow on the bottom when tapped. Serve warm.

Glazed Cinnamon Rolls

Mrs Ribeye has arrived back from her annual parent-fest in Russia and I though I would detox her from all of the Seledka pod Suboy and other Russian culinary delights by making her some of these glazed cinnamon buns for her first breakfast back in her adopted homeland of the UK.

These rolls are not exactly traditional British fare, but there is a cinnamon roll kiosk at the Tottenham Court Road end of Oxford Street that has the most incredible aroma wafting out of it night and day, that I almost feel that the American/French/German/Who-Knows-Where smell has become as much of the authentic local landscape as my own wife.

These buns are so easy to make. I made the dough, using my No Fuss method, in ten minutes flat and then picked up Mrs Ribeye from Heathrow airport (in our lovely new car!!!!!!) while it was proving. By the time we got back, the dough was ready for flavouring and baking. Simple.

We managed to chomp four of them within five minutes of them coming out of the oven, and then ate the rest the next day split and toasted. I think they were even better as leftovers.

I have had another idea: These rolls would be great as the base for a delicious Bread and Butter Pudding - recipe to follow in the not-too-distant-future. One problem though, how am I going to make ANYTHING with the leftovers if we scoff these rolls before they've had a chance to make it into another dish? Er, make twice as many, silly! (Actually, I'm not 100% sure that that will work either).

As with most bread-y treats, these rolls are not only easy to make, but cheap too. Only 15p per roll - making the £2 per roll that the kiosk charges in Oxford Street seem like a joke, actually.

PS. Another happy 30th birthday wish to Andrea, from Mrs Ribeye and I. Your party last night was fab!

Makes 8 Cinnamon Rolls

INGREDIENTS:

Half of my Bread Dough Recipe, proved once only
50g butter or margarine, melted
100g granulated or caster sugar
1 tablespoon of ground cinnamon
50ml water

Roll out the dough to an area of 30x15cm, with a uniform 3cm thickness, and allow it to prove for a second time. After about an hour of proving, spread the dough with the butter, half of the sugar and all of the cinnamon and roll it up across the width until you have a long sausage. Cut the sausage into 8 rolls and place them cut sides up in a high-sided baking tray (see pic below). Preheat the oven to 200c. Bake the rolls for 40-45 minutes, until golden on top (if you like, you can turn the whole bunch of rolls over and leave them in the cooling oven to crisp up the bases). Mix the the remaining half of the sugar with the water and microwave it for 30 seconds to create a syrup. Glaze the rolls. Serve warm.

Quattro Stagioni (Four Seasons) Tray Pizza

There is no such thing as a traditional Italian quattro stagioni pizza.

When I was seventeen, I went on my first 'laahds' holiday to Rimini, on the Italian Adriatic coast. Twenty of us stayed at the 'Hotel Jumbo' - which was actually a lot nicer than it sounds (don't forget that this was 1989, before cheap lads holidays were in vogue, The Inbetweeners cast were still only mere glints in their fathers' eyes and well before hotels all started to be called 'Holiday Inn, Barbados' or 'Ramada, Hong Kong').

Anyway, within ten minutes of arriving at our hotel, my mates and I went out on our first huge piss-up at a place called 'Tube Bar' (actually not a gay bar, despite the name - however, the doorman looked and dressed like a muscly George Michael, and we didn't think that that was silly or weird or gay at all either), and decided to line our stomachs first at the nearest pizzeria. We sat down, failed to understand a word of the Italian-only menu and asked the waiter for a four seasons pizza. Blank stare. 'Umm, a kwat-row stajee-oney pizza, purr favooray?' Nothing.

So we pointed at the word 'Pizza' on the menu and we were brought a wooden board with a tomato and garlic sauce-topped 18 inch pizza, with a couple of small blobs of mozzarella cheese and a few basil leaves torn over it. It was heavenly, and only cost us a two or three pounds each in today's money (ah, listen to me sounding all old). We ate there every night.

I have discovered that Italian food is so much simpler in Italy than in England, as Chinese food is in China and as Thai food is in Thailand. I'm sure it's the same story in India, Mexico and Mars - three places I'm looking forward to visiting soon. Why is it that here in the UK we have to caricaturise all of our foreign food? Er, maybe because it's delicious, that's why.

I just love a quat stag, as I love sweet and sour pork and 'festival nachos'. I don't expect to eat those dishes abroad, but then I don't mind people in an English-style pub in Florida thinking we in England eat fillet steak and kidney pie, or battered mahi mahi with chips. It's not authentic, but who cares?

Excuse me for posting so many bread-based recipes lately - I made some Dough a couple of days ago and froze it, thinking it would last me a while - wrong. I got so excited about it, that I made Foccacia yesterday and pizza today. There's only one more portion of dough left in the freezer, so I'll probably post one more bready delight soon before I make another batch. Watch this space.

The cost of the dough is 25p per pizza, and the toppings can be as luxurious or basic as you like - this particular combination comes in at a total £2 per serving.

Makes one 30x15cm Tray Pizza (Serves 2)

INGREDIENTS:

A quarter of my Bread Dough Recipe, proved once only
3 tablespoons of sundried tomato paste
4 mushrooms, finely sliced
8 slices pepperoni
4 slices air cured ham, cut into 2cm pieces
8 pieces of marinated artichokes
8 black olives
1 ball of mozzarella, cut into 8 pieces
8 basil leaves
1 tablespoon of olive oil

Preheat oven to 200c. On a well-oiled 30x15cm baking tray, stretch the once-risen dough by hand until it covers the whole surface - it doesn't seem like it will fit at first, but it will. Spread the tomato paste over the base, leaving a 2cm exposed edge. Arrange the mushrooms on a quarter of the sauce, pepperoni on another, ham on another and artichokes on the last quarter. Sprinkle the olives, mozzarella and basil over all of the toppings, and olive oil over the exposed edges of the base. Bake in the oven for 20 minutes, or until risen and the exposed edges are golden and crunchy. Allow to cool a bit before slicing and serving.

Five Minute Foccacia

I lie occasionally. See, there's another one. I lie a tiddly bit more than occasionally. Mostly it's to get out of doing something I don't feel like doing, or to save hurting someone's feelings (aaand, there's another one).

For example, it would be uncool to tell your friend that they've 'chubbed-up a bit', for instance - although I do give the odd reproving glance at my once-svelte friend's third reach for a doughnut - but only if I feel I am safe from receiving one back, for similar reasons.

But the biggest reason for regular porky-pie telling is that I love to exaggerate. I exaggerate a bazillion times a day. I do it to make a point, emphasise a point, make something banal into something funny, or to brag to my friends about the size of my... I'm kidding, I don't need to brag - mine is huge (well, what size of car did you think I owned?).

Today's recipe is a bit of a whopper actually. You can't actually make foccacia in five minutes from scratch. The dough takes an hour or so to make and the cooking time is about twenty minutes, but the forming and flavouring bit in between those stages is only about one minute in length (oh yeah I forgot, the second rising after the forming stage takes thirty minutes). Er, so in fairness, if you average out these times, then this is a five minute(ish) recipe. I call this 'rationalising' - all liars do it.

But why bother lying at all? Well, I needed to distinguish this recipe from my all-singing-all-dancing, takes-ages-to-make, Foccacia Recipe I posted a while back. This quicker one is such an amazing recipe, that really does only take minutes to prepare, that I didn't want you to think it would be so much work that you couldn't be bothered.

Make some Dough and freeze it and then when its defrosted you can spend literally seconds making this bread. If you eat it raw, then this recipe should really be called 'One Minute Foccacia'. I call this 'joking' - all liars use this as a defence.

I served this with my Sunday Night Antipasti Platter - delicious. But you could cut this bread into strips and serve it with drinks, without any accompaniment at all.

This bread might be quick, but it's also also very cheap. 75p per bread is all. This is not a lie. I Promise.

Makes one 30x15cm Foccacia (Serves 2-4)

INGREDIENTS:

A quarter of my Bread Dough recipe, proved once only
4 tablespoons of olive oil
1 tablespoon each of garlic powder, dried rosemary and black pepper
1 teaspoon of sea salt

Preheat oven to 200c. On a well-oiled 30x15cm baking tray, stretch the once-risen dough by hand until it covers the whole surface - it doesn't seem like it will fit at first, but it will. Make dents all over the dough with your fingertips and pour the olive oil all over the surface. Sprinkle the garlic powder, rosemary, black pepper and salt evenly over the dough and allow it to rise for a second and final time. Bake in the oven for 20 minutes, or until risen and all golden and crunchy. Allow to cool a bit before serving.

The Sunday Night in with a DVD, Antipasti Platter

What a delightful weekend. Friday night's two parties were excellent. Happy birthday to Sandy, again, and bon voyage to Magda, again.

Saturday and Sunday were far more relaxed affairs, with the weekend culminating in me making a delicious Sunday night dinner for me and the missus, while watching Meet the Parents for the squillionth time on DVD. I made some Bread Dough on Friday and froze most of it, ready to make my quick foccacia recipe, to serve with this dish, a completely inauthentic (you know I don't play by anyone else's rules, baby) antipasti platter.

I piled coleslaw in the centre of a large serving plate and basically surrounded it with everything I love to eat. I had Black Forest ham and salami from Germany, Pecorino cheese and marinated artichokes from Italy, olives from Greece, coleslaw from who-knows-where (with bacon bits from nowhere at all), and my own foccacia from Marylebone in London. A European Union(ish) of flavours!

I know that antipasti, strictly translated means 'appetiser', but you won't want to eat anything else after this beast. Even Mrs Ribeye got well beat - and she's a 6 foot Russian.

As you can see from the picture, the platter makes an attractive, easy to prepare feast (the plate above is a single serving- don't judge).

As for my Five Minute Focaccia recipe, I'll post the recipe very soon. It's a winner. It's now posted - just click on the link!

Cost-wise, this dish is right on budget at £3 per serving.

Serves 2

INGREDIENTS:

200g coleslaw with 50g bacon bits on top
100g Black Forest ham, thinly sliced
100g German salami, thinly sliced
150g marinated artichoke hearts
100g Pecorino cheese
100g stuffed olives
4 pieces of home-made Five Minute Focaccia

Place the coleslaw in the middle of a large plate and sprinkle the bacon bits on top. Arrange the other ingredients attractively around the sides of the plate and serve.

No Mess, No Fuss, No Worktop, Tiny Kitchen, No Room to Knead, Bread-Making

Mrs Ribeye and I live in a tiny little flat with a miniscule kitchen. The reason we took this place was that it is located in the best part of central London, which means the best part of the world, and it has an enormous roof terrace (which we haven't yet used, naturally).

The only problem with our tiddly little kitchen is the lack of worktops, which means that I sometimes use the hob as workspace. This is OK for any jobs apart from bread-making, where you need a sanitary flat surface to knead dough.

Up to this point I have got around the 'no space to knead bread' problem, by making a Soda Bread instead - which requires no kneading. That is, up to this point. But I really fancied some traditional yeasty bread this weekend, so I decided to rack my brains for a place to knead.

Could I use our oak table? No - it has an antique wax stain, which I'm not sure I want flavouring my bread. Can I use the hob with a plastic chopping board on it? Mmm, a bit too small and slidy. What about the one small work surface we have with the toaster and kettle on it? No, too manky - I'm not sure how well we clean behind the Dualit, and I cannot be bothered to start boiling water and getting the antibacterial wipes out.

Ah, but what about my 28cm diameter Le Creuset casserole pot? Would it be possible to make bread in that? Potless readers know how much my Le Creuset pot means to me, and it is never far from my mind when it comes to kitchen shenanigans, but can it save the day today?

So I got all of the bread dough ingredients together and dumped it all together in the pot. After a quick stir with a spoon to lightly mix the wet and the dry stuff together, I used my hand to knead the dough around the pot. After one minute, the dough was very sticky and I quickly glanced over at the oak table, to see whether it would be possible to clingfilm it - but I carried on kneading regardless. After two minutes the dough was less sticky, but not yet leaving the sides of the pot. Three minutes in, and the dough was starting to leave the sides of the pot. I left the dough and washed my hands. When  I returned with clean hands and fresh resolve, I gave the dough a two minute proper pounding around the sides of the pot.

Bingo, perfect dough made! No mess, no fuss, and with somewhere handy to allow the dough to prove - the pot! I just bunged on the lid and waited for an hour for the dough to double in size before knocking it back and allowing it to prove for a second and final time before baking.

I don't care if our next place is a mansion with a 10,000 sq ft kitchen. I'm making my bread in a casserole pot forever. The most important thing, is that the amount of flour you would expect to be lightly covering all your kitchen surfaces in the normal course of bread-making is not there. Try it, it's brilliant.

Asda has 1.5kg bags of strong white bread flour on offer for 60p at the moment. You only need 1kg for this recipe, so that works out at 40p per loaf. Factoring in the yeast, sugar and salt, and this bread still only comes in at £1 per huge loaf, or 50p for two normal sized ones, or 10p per pizza base or roll.

My old faithful Le Creuset pot saves the day, yet again! Quite frankly, I'm not surprised.

Makes a huge 1kg loaf, or 2 regular 500g loaves, or 10 pizza bases, or 10 rolls

INGREDIENTS:

1kg strong white bread flour
20g (or 3 x 7g sachets) easy bake dried yeast
2 tablespoons sugar
1 tablespoon salt
1 pint of tepid water

Mix all of the ingredients together, with a spoon, in a bowl or large pot, and then knead the dough in the pot for five minutes until it is springy and elastic. Cover and allow to prove for an hour. After an hour, knock the dough back and knead for three further minutes. Place the dough onto a floured baking sheet, form it into an oval bread shape and allow to prove for a second time. Bake in a 200c oven for 45 minutes, or until the crust is golden and crunchy and the inside sounds hollow when tapped.

Here are some flatbreads I made to accompany my personal all-time favourite Chilli con Carne recipe. Just roll out golf ball-sized pieces of dough until they are 2mm thick, and dry fry them in a hot pan - delicious.

Foccacia with Mozzarella, Sweet Red Onion, Rosemary and Garlic

Charity begins at home.

Go into a branch of Waitrose supermarkets, and you may find three, metre-high, clear plastic cases near the exit door containing differing amounts of bright green, 2cm circular counters - just as I did at the Edgware Road branch. On closer inspection, the three cases have a small placard above a slot, which tells you something about a charity which is being represented. The idea is that after you have done your shopping, the cashier gives you a counter to place into the case of your choice. Each counter is worth £1, which will be donated, on your behalf, by the store.

A fantastic idea, until you notice that one of the cases is almost full, one is half-full and one is nearly empty. So, which was the almost empty one? Well, it was a homeless shelter for Bangladeshi women. And the full one? Cancer Research.

It may be that most people think that if they are being forced into making a decision to invest into something, that it would be better to be something they might (although, hopefully not, obviously) benefit from, rather than something they definitely won't.

If so, that's all well and good, but why the hell are the cases transparent? Instead of three charity boxes, which under normal circumstances should be a heart-warming sight, all I could see was yet another display of typically uncharitable human behaviour. But before you say that it may well be that people actually think that cancer sufferers are a worthier cause than homeless people, I say: OK, but why publicise it?

Oh, and what was the charity represented by the middle case? I can't remember - I was too busy putting my counter in the Cancer Research container to notice. You can't be too careful, you know.

Today's dish really is a heart-warmer, even if my little pre-recipe rant ain't. I first had this foccacia in a restaurant in north London about ten years ago. I haven't made it myself until now, and I'm so glad I did. It is, by far, the best foccacia I have ever had.

A quick tip: Make sure that when you push the pieces of mozzarella into the dough, that they stay at least partially there after the proving process, and before you put the bread in the oven. You don't want then sitting on top of the bread, otherwise they'll just burn and the crust won't get crunchy and golden. Just before the bread goes into the oven, very gently push your finger onto the mozzarella pieces to submerge them, but without knocking the air out of the rest of the bread.

Bread-making is so rewarding. It is therapeutic and the results almost always turn out far better than you would imagine. There are a few stages to this recipe, but they are all very easy and quick. £1 per serving is all it costs.

Serves 8 (makes 2 foccacias) 

Focaccia Dough

INGREDIENTS:

500g strong, white bread flour
500g semolina flour
20g dried yeast
1 tablespoon of salt
1 tablespoon of sugar
50ml olive oil 
450-500ml water, as needed

In a large bowl, mix the two flours with the yeast, sugar and salt, and make a well in the centre. Add the olive oil and most of the water and stir, until the liquids and dry ingredients have become a sticky, lumpy dough. If it's too wet, add a little more water. Turn the dough onto a floured board, and knead vigorously until the glutens in the flour have developed, and the dough is a flexible, smooth, single ball (20 minutes approx). Set aside until needed.

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Sweet Red Onion Topping

INGREDIENTS:

1 large, or 2 small red onions, sliced into fine half moons
1 tablespoon of olive oil
1 tablespoon of balsamic vinegar
1 tablespoon of demerara sugar

Mix the ingredients in a small pan, and cook on a low heat until the onion is soft and translucent (1 hour approx). Set aside until needed.

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Rosemary and Garlic Oil

INGREDIENTS:

Handful of fresh rosemary leaves, coarsely chopped
3 cloves of garlic, minced
75ml olive oil

Mix the olive oil, garlic and rosemary in a bowl and set aside until needed.

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To Make the Foccacia

INGREDIENTS:

2 balls of mozzarella, cut into 1cm dice
2 tablespoons of rock or sea salt, for sprinkling

Preheat the oven to 200c.Cut the dough into two equal pieces and set one aside. Roll out one of the balls of dough to a 1cm thickness and place on a floured baking tray, stretching it so that it fits perfectly. Make deep holes in the dough with your fingers and place a piece of mozzarella into each. Strew the dough with half of the sweet red onion topping and then evenly sprinkle half of the rosemary and garlic oil over the entire surface of the bread. Repeat with the other ball of dough, or freeze/refrigerate it for later use, along with the unused toppings. Leave the breads to rise in a warm place for an hour, or until the mozzarella pieces are half submerged in the dough. Carefully, so as not to lose the air in the risen dough, place the breads in the oven and bake for 20 minutes, or until the crust is golden and crunchy and the cheese has melted. Sprinkle with rock salt, cut into 4cm wide lengths and serve warm.

Beef Rendang with Flatbreads (Roti Prata)

Roti prata cafes are working people's restaurants dotted all over Singapore. But it's not unusual for the city's cognoscenti  to meet on the weekend at these vibrant, old-fashioned establishments at 3am, after a night of bar-hopping and clubbing, to eat flatbreads with different curries, washed down with local beer. And one of the best loved curries is beef rendang - an Indonesian, coconut flavoured, rich dry curry with a fragrant, sour edge. Incredible.

In my pre-Mrs Ribeye days, I would love nothing more than to take a trip to a Far East destination and experience life off the tourist trail, at one of these types of places. I miss them. Who knows, I may even take Mrs Ribeye one day...

At my local Oriental cash and carry, beef shin is selling at an amazing £3.75 per kilo. Ideal for this dish, and meaning that this dish comes in (including the flatbreads) at a hard-to believe £1.75 per serving.

Instead of the flatbreads, you may wish to serve the rendang with my coconut rice recipe, topped with fried onions.

Serves 4

Beef Rendang

INGREDIENTS:

For the spice paste:

The flesh of a quarter of a coconut
2 stalks of lemon grass
Thumb of ginger or galangal
1 large shallot or onion
3 cloves of garlic
2 red chillies
2 dried chillies
1 teaspoon each of ground turmeric, ground cumin, ground coriander seed and ground cinnamon
Zest and juice of 1 lime

Other ingredients:

1kg of beef shin, cut into 2cm dice
1 can of coconut milk
200ml water
1 tablespoon of tamarind paste
2 stalks of lemon grass, bashed
2 tablespoons of demerara or palm sugar
Juice of 1 lime

Blend the spice paste ingredients and place in a large pan or wok over a moderate heat. Add the beef and lightly brown, until the spices become fragrant. Add the other ingredients and turn heat down to low. Cook until the liquid has almost entirely evaporated (3 hours approx). serve with the roti prata, or coconut rice.

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Roti Prata

INGREDIENTS:

300g plain flour
1 teaspoon of salt
50g melted butter, plus 50g extra for coating
100ml milk at room temperature
4 tablespoons of sunflower or vegetable oil

Mix the flour salt and butter in a bowl until you have breadcrumbs. Work in the milk until you have a sticky, pliable dough. Transfer to a board and knead until the dough has lost its stickiness (approx 10 mins). Divide into 8 balls and coat with more butter. Leave to rest in a cool place (not the fridge) for 4-5 hours. Preheat a pan with a half tablespoon of oil, per flatbread, until blisteringly hot. Roll each ball to a paper thickness and fry one-at-a-time on each side until the bread is puffed-up and toasted. Drain on kitchen paper before serving.

The Easiest Bread in the World

Bread is cheap, filling and delicious when homemade, expensive when bought from an artisan bakery and rubbish when bought from an English supermarket. We don’t tend to regularly make bread at home, much because it seems like such an arduous task – all that kneading, rising and proving etc.

Wrong. 

This recipe is not hard to follow, difficult to accomplish or boring to do. When done, you feel like a baker, which, for some reason, feels very very cool. And nothing like working at Greggs.

No yeast, no kneading and no proving. What’s not to love? In fact, the less you do, the better the result.

The cost? £1.50 for the best loaf you'll ever taste.

INGREDIENTS:

300g of any type of flour (but not self-raising)

1.5 teaspoons of bicarbonate of soda

1.5 teaspoons of salt

300ml buttermilk or plain yoghurt

Preheat oven to 200c. Place the dry ingredients in a mixing bowl. Add the wet ingredient and mix very quickly with a fork. Tip contents onto non-stick baking sheet and shape into a single rough mound. Bake on middle shelf for 30mins. Cool on a wire rack.

NB. The dry and wet ingredients should be mixed for no more than 30 seconds, so that the bicarbonate of soda is all fresh when it goes into the oven. The mound on the baking sheet should look like a pile of doughy lumps. Do not smooth it. The oven will make it beautiful.

Variations:

It does not matter which liquid you use, as long as it’s interesting. Try Guinness for a grown up Irish variation or fruit yoghurts for a sweet version – great with butter and jam for tea. As long as you use the same number of grams of flour to millilitres of the wet ingredient (basically a ratio of 1:1), and adjust the bicarbonate of soda and salt accordingly, you will have quick delicious bread you can make every day.