Meera Sodha’s vegan recipe for tarka dal

There’s a lot to love about ceramicist Maham Anjum. Her hands that move with well-practised grace on her pottery wheel, moulding large, unfriendly-looking boulders of clay into elegant bowls and biryani pots. Her rickety, wooden studio in the midst of an overgrown garden that’s filled in summer with hollyhocks, butterflies and a curious little fox.

Her work, of course, out of which we ate this heavenly dal. And the manner in which she introduced it: ‘I just put it all in a pot and stir it.’ It’s that simple, and now it is one of my favourite things to make and eat most weeks.
Maham’s dal

This dal, which has been photographed in one of Maham’s handmade bowls, is made with the very quick-cooking mung dal, which are the de-husked, split yellow insides of green mung beans – look for it in big supermarkets or Asian food shops. Since this recipe was first published in East, I’ve adapted it by cooking out the tomatoes and garlic first, though Maham just throws them into the pot with everything else.

Prep 10 min
Cook 45 min
Serves 4

Rapeseed oil
3 fat garlic cloves, peeled and minced
2.5cm piece fresh ginger, peeled and grated
250g vine tomatoes, (ie, 3 medium ones), chopped
300g mung dal
½ tsp turmeric
1 tsp chilli flakes
12 fresh curry leaves
1½ tsp salt
1 tsp cumin seeds
½ tsp black mustard seeds
1 green finger chilli, very finely chopped
1 handful fresh coriander, roughly chopped, to serve

In a large saucepan, heat two tablespoons of oil over a medium heat and, when hot, add the garlic and ginger, and cook for three minutes, until they turn a pale shade of gold. Add the tomatoes, cook for five to six minutes, then add the dal, turmeric, chilli flakes, four of the curry leaves and a litre and a quarter of water. Put a cocked lid on top of the pan and bring to a boil. Turn down the heat to a simmer, leave the dal to cook, stirring every now and then, for 30-40 minutes, until soft and fairly thick, then stir in the salt.

When the dal is nearly cooked, make the tarka. Heat two tablespoons of oil in a small frying pan over a medium heat and, when it’s smoking hot, add the cumin seeds, mustard seeds, green chilli and remaining eight curry leaves. When the leaves crisp up and the seeds crackle, which should happen within the first minute, take the tarka off the heat and pour into the dal. Stir to mix, sprinkle over the coriander and serve with freshly steamed basmati rice.

Rachel Roddy’s recipe for lamb ragu with pasta

As my butcher bones out a leg of lamb and cuts the meat into pieces with a precise “thwack thwack”, or joints a chicken, we talk. About the lamb or chicken; how old it is and where it came from; the nature of the cut and the goodness of fat. We talk about what I plan to do with whatever I have bought when I get home. She is generous with advice when I ask for it, in that moment shifting roles from butcher to the sort of confident home cook who inspires trust. We also talk about being the mums of difficult eight-year-old boys, and swing between big headlines and the minutiae of every day: dry hands and cold mornings.

Manuela’s hands are worth watching: like her brother, mother and grandmother before her, she is incredibly skilled, with the strength of a lumberjack and the precision of a surgeon. The other day she cut a gallina (boiling fowl) in half to reveal eggs; one almost at full size in its opaque sack, the rest a bunch, like tiny grapes, only bright yellow. It was a shock, to be honest; I wanted to turn away. It was Manuela’s reaction that made me turn back, her practical admiration of the animal before her and then the way she carefully cut away the cluster of eggs and lifted them into a tub and told me to poach them in the broth I was about to make. Again, I was shocked by her suggestion; the familiar comfort of my morning shop and cooking plans disturbed by the reality of the meat I chose to eat.

It was the same the other day as she carefully boned a leg of lamb and reminded me that the animal was four months old. But then, as she worked carefully, her knife easing the meat from the bone, we talked about the trusted farm the animal came from and how the price reflects the nature of the way that farm works. In that moment, I was reminded of Hattie Ellis’ book What to Eat?, and her reminder that meat is not just any food, but a tricky business that requires much self-questioning; that it should be more of a cherished treat than convenience.

There is convenience, though, in having a butcher bone and dice your lamb. More convenient is the rosemary bush in the park on the way home, when the one on the windowsill has not survived the winter. As well as resinous rosemary and sweet marjoram, this week’s recipe for lamb ragù includes sage, whose domineering and musty scent and astringent flavour are well matched by the rich and distinct braised lamb.

The recipe has much in common with the classic Roman abbacchio alla cacciatora, lamb hunter’s-style – so braised with wine and many herbs. Today’s version also contains tomato and chilli, and is cooked until soft and collapsed enough to use as a pasta sauce for both dried shapes – rigatoni, paccheri or conchiglioni – and fresh ones – tagliatelle, pappardelle or gnocchi.

As my pan of ragù splutters and burps like a drunkard, I pull What to Eat? from the shelf and re-read Hattie’s conclusions to the meat chapter. She suggests that if we choose to eat it, we should eat less but better quality. That, when we can, we should shop at butchers and visit farms; meat is a privilege and a pleasure.

Lamb ragù

Prep 15 min
Cook 1 hr 30 min
Serves 4

1 onion, peeled and finely diced
1 small carrot, peeled and finely diced
1 stick celery, finely diced
6 tbsp olive oil
2 sprigs marjoram
2 sprigs rosemary
8 sage leaves
Salt and pepper
450g boneless lamb suitable for stewing, cut into 2cm cubes
200ml white wine
1 x 400g tin peeled plum tomatoes
1 small dried red chilli
500g pasta (rigatoni, paccheri, tagliatelle, pappardelle)
1 handful grated pecorino

Put the diced onion, carrot, celery and olive oil in a large, heavy-based pan. Finely mince half of each of the herbs and add to the pan along with a pinch of salt. Gently fry over a low heat until soft and fragrant – about seven minutes.

Raise the heat a little, add the lamb, and cook, stirring, until browned on all sides. Raise the heat another notch, add the wine and let it bubble for two minutes.

Add the tomatoes, remaining whole herbs, chilli and a good pinch of salt, lower the heat, cover and simmer gently for an hour and a quarter, lifting the lid to stir from time to time and adding more wine if it seems dry.

Toward the end of cooking time, cook the pasta in plenty of fast-boiling salted water. Drain, tip into a bowl, sprinkle over a handful of grated pecorino, tip on the sauce, toss well and serve immediately, handing round more cheese to top.

Liam Charles’ recipe for New Year’s Eve banoffee trifle

Let’s set the scene: you’re hosting a New Year’s Eve party. You still have hours until the big countdown begins, but you’ve forgotten to make a dessert. Never fear: there’s hardly any cooking involved in this banoffee trifle, and it’s all about the celebration – just stick a few sparklers in it and get back to the party. Have an easy, happy new year.

Prep 20 min
Cook 20 min
Serves 12

For the toffee sauce
150ml double cream
40g unsalted butter
50g light muscovado sugar
¼ tsp fine sea salt

For the brittle
230g caster sugar
20g unsalted butter
150g mixed nuts, roughly chopped

For the trifle
600g extra-thick double cream
100ml Baileys
400g chocolate digestives, broken
5 large bananas, peeled and sliced
2 x 500g ready-made vanilla custard

To finish
75g dark chocolate, grated

Melt the cream, butter and sugar in a medium-sized saucepan, then leave it to bubble and turn a toffee sauce-like colour. Add the salt to taste, and set aside.

Put four tablespoons of water into a saucepan and slowly add the caster sugar, stirring with a whisk or spatula, until combined. Cook over a medium heat until the sugar turns a deep amber colour. Remove the pan from the heat and quickly stir in the butter. Tip in the nuts and stir until they’re well-coated in the sugar.

Carefully pour the sugary nuts on to a silicone mat or a tray lined with baking paper and leave to cool. Once cool, smash into shards.

Mix the cream with three tablespoons of Baileys and set aside. Divide the broken biscuits over the bottom of a large dish. Drizzle more Baileys over the biscuits, top with the sliced banana, custard and Baileys-infused cream. Squiggle over some caramel sauce and finish with grated chocolate. Pop in the fridge until needed. When ready to serve, top with shards of brittle (and some sparklers).