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Rösti is a traditional Swiss-German food, so traditional in fact that the border between the French and This dissatisfaction led me to tinker a bit with tradition, and this, or variants of this, is the result Traditional with a twist. I find this take on the traditional dish infinitely more satisfying. There is veg in every bite and while retaining its traditional essence, it is lighter and more satisfying

A traditional Cheese Tart, or a Tarte au Fromage, is an old favourite. My dad has made it for years, and I absolutely love it, sometimes with a little twist.

One of my parents' neighbours was raising rabbits in their horse stall. Ever since Little Bit was a very small Bit indeed, we've taken him in to go watch the bunnies. Especially when he was very small, taking him into the warm semi-darkness of the bunny stall, with quiet noises and the smell of hay calmed him almost immediately. He could be a very upset Little One, only a few months old, and yet almost as soon as we unlatched the door, he would quieten. I have liked rabbit meat for years (which has no bearing on enjoying petting them) and had meant to get a bunny from the neighbour, and then he mentioned that a lot more people said they liked the idea than actually followed through and bought bunnies from him, so he was going to stop raising them. Aside from it being a shame for Little One, suddenly my chance was slipping away, so I asked for one. It was a while before I was organised enough to actually follow up, but he dropped off a freshly butchered rabbit for us last weekend. With a friend coming to visit during the course of the week, I decided to cook the rabbit for dinner. Previously, on the few occasions that I've cooked or eaten rabbit at home, it's been buried in ratatouille and slow-cooked. It now being winter and not the season for courgettes, fresh tomatoes and aubergines, I decided to try a similar strategy but with winter veg: butternut, pumpkin and carrots. For the flavouring, for some reason I decided to go with a mulled wine profile, using red wine, an orange and warmer spices for the sauce. I wasn't sure how everything was going to go, but the proof is in the eating they say and we all had seconds, so I think that is a rather good sign of things going well! Ingredients: 1 rabbit, in pieces 4 red onions, in eighths 3 big carrots, roughly chopped 1/4 of a small pumpkin, chopped 1/2 butternut, roughly chopped 1 apple, chopped 2 c red cooking wine 2 - 3 c (ish) chicken stock 1 orange, halved 2 tsp cinnamon 4 cloves 2 tsp orange peel 1 - 1 1/2 tbsp thyme 1/2 tsp rosemary 2 - 2 1/2 tbsp honey 3 tbsp olive oil Salt and pepper 1) Salt the rabbit and leave it for about an hour. After that time, rinse off the excess salt. Heat a cast-iron skillet to medium-high with the olive oil and when it is hot, place pieces of rabbit in the skillet. Glaze with honey, and sprinkle thyme over the top. Brown about 5 minutes on each side, then remove to the oven-proof dish you will be using for the stew (I used my biggest one and was a little stuck for space...) Brown the meat in batches, ensuring that each piece has sufficient space in the pan, and when you're done, tip the juices and glaze run off into the stew pot. I deglazed the pan with half an orange, too. 2) Add all other ingredients to the pot and mix well. Squeeze the orange and drop in the halves. Place in the oven at about 160°C and leave for the next 3-4 hours, stirring occasionally to ensure everything has equal juice bathing time. 3) Remove and serve over rice, polenta or bread. We opted for polenta ( for a recipe, see here). We all really enjoyed this. It would also work very well with chicken, but the gamier taste of the rabbit stood up nicely to the red wine. The salting was an attempt to apply principles from some of the food science reading I've been doing, and from Salt Fat Acid Heat for example. Salt apparently helps jellify the muscle tissue, trapping more moisture and making for more tender, moister meat. Longer salting is better, but my Little Bit wrangling skills and time management didn't allow for longer, so I was limited to about an hour as I dealt with other bits. We had lots of extra juice, so a good bread didn't go amiss to mop up. All in all very successful, but I must say, rabbit has a lot of bones! The stew has also stood up well to multiple leftover meals (we had rather a lot left over from that first meal). I plan on using some of the leftover juice to make risotto, so stay tuned for that! Book Pairing: Making this, as Little Bit napped, I was listening to A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens. It is a long while since I read it and I enjoyed revisiting it. Being shorter, too, I find that Dickens' wordiness bothered me less than it did in, for example, Great Expectations. Knowing the about-face that Scrooge was about to undergo, it was interesting hearing him be so entrenched in his grumpy misery and delightful to watch him turn. It was in keeping with the season, too, which is always a big favourite. Digesting our stew that evening, we lit the candles on our Christmas tree for the second time this year and watched them quietly glow as I caught up with an old friend. Candles, friends and good food (with some good books thrown in) do really make life - and Christmas-time more especially - delightful!

For a long time, mead was something I had only ever read about in medieval literature, like Hrothgar's mead hall in Beowulf, or mead being toasted with in Arthurian lit. I only tried it a few years ago, initially in Brittany and then as mulled mead in Stuttgart. The first time I wasn't in love with it (but did like that is was called Merlin's brew or something), but then trying it hot and spiced in a German Christmas market, I really enjoyed it. When I saw Max Miller's episode on making his own mead in Tasting History therefore, I decided to try it out for myself. I ordered a 3l pickling jar with a water stop and gave it a shot. I only had baker's yeast rather than brewer's yeast. I thought this would prove too big an issue, but my sister said she had done the same and it worked, so I figured I would go ahead. I heated water, then stirred in the honey, brewed it for a few minutes and then allowed it to cool. When it was about 37°C, I stirred in the yeast, and then put it in the jar with the water-lock in place. I left it to ferment in out coat closet for about 5 days (the coat closet smelled strongly of fermentation). I then transferred out the mead and got rid of as much yeast as possible, and put it back in the jar for a couple more weeks to age a little. Ingredients: 600ml honey 1.8l water 15g yeast 1) Bring water to a boil briefly, and stir in honey. Allow the honey to dissolve and then bring the temperature down to about 37°C. Stir in the yeast. Place in a jar with a water-lock and then leave in a dark place to ferment for a couple of days. 2) Transfer the mead out of the jar, leaving to age for at least a few days. I pulled it out of the coat closet today to try it (I need to pick up a funnel before I can bottle it). I am afraid it didn't come out as well as I had hoped but better than I had feared. It is very acidic and has a little bit of a bitter edge to it. I'm not sure why it went so acidic - whether I fermented it too long, or if the fault is down to using the wrong yeast, or if I messed something else up...As a first attempt at fermentation, I am not too disappointed, but I am not sure what to do with it. It is not sipping mead, but maybe mulled? I will have to look into this and have a think. I've included the recipe anyway, so if you try it out, let me know it you have better luck! EDIT: I strained it repeatedly through about 16 layers of cheese cloth until the mead came out clear. I've put it aside for now, but I'll give it another taste soon to see if getting all the yeast out improves the flavour.

As mentioned on Day 79 of The Challenge Fondue is traditional here, and as old as our dear Alps. I always make my in a cast iron enamelled caquelon as is traditional here. Not what you might call traditional, but it works!

I first encountered clotted cream on a trip to Cornwall with my dad when I was 8, and I loved it. Living in Switzerland, it is unavailable here, so it was always only an occasional treat on trips to the UK. And then I moved to Scotland and discovered that I could have it whenever I wanted. And I learned to make scones. Hey Diddle Diddle! It never occurred to me though - growing up with it as a treat, with it commonly available for 6 years in Scotland, or since it has again become an occasional treat - that clotted cream was something I could actually make at home. With minimal faff or effort involved. And then I read somewhere about how simple it actually is and I had to try it. I read a couple of recipes and other people's accounts of making it, and the difference between making clotted cream and cornish cream, and then decided to try it for myself. The biggest impediment was picking a time when I could have it in and out of the oven at low temperatures for several days. Other than that though, it is the simplest "recipe" I think I have ever tried. Here goes. Heat cream at very low temperature for several hours (10-12). Turn off the oven and leave in, cooling oven overnight. In the morning, move the cream to the fridge. Allow to cool completely for several more hours, then scoop off the solid cream. There will be a slight skin or crust over the top, which is completely normal. It came out beautifully! I can't believe how simple it actually was once the veil was lifted. There are a few foods like that that I've enjoyed de-mythifying over the last few years, but this has to be the simplest....I am tempted to start playing around with this a little, like flavouring the cream beforehand for example. I would also like to try it as an ingredient in other dishes and see how it compares to using butter or regular cream. And then, of course, I had to make scones to go with it...

This is very basic, and hardly deserves to be called a recipe, but so very tasty and filling and the ultimate comfort food. Rather peasanty and a very good use for stale bread. It can easily be either vegetarian or meaty. This particular version is vegetarian, but the addition of either sausage or bacon (or bits of chicken, or you name it) could work very well. It is a cheesy, eggy, bready mess. Add any veg you want and just give it all enough time to soak, then bake it until the top is crispy and the inside is moist and messy. Ingredients: 1 loaf of bread, cubed (you can use any bread you want, but personally I like character in my bread, with seeds and dark flour and things) 1 leek, chopped 1 onion, sliced 2-3 tbsp butter 3 eggs, beaten 1 1/2 - 2 c milk 1 tbsp chives A handful of mushrooms, chopped 50-100 g Gruyère, cubed 2 - 3 tbsp parmesan (or other aged cheese), grated Pepper to taste 1) On the stove, melt the butter in an oven proof dish. Sauté the leek and onion. When they soften, add the mushrooms and then the bread, allowing some of the cubes to brown a little. 2) Beat the eggs and milk together and pour them over the bread and veg. Mix in the chives and the cheese. Leave it all to soak for at least an hour. 3) Sprinkle parmesan and freshly ground pepper over the top. Bake at 180° for 30-35 minutes until golden brown on top. This also works well with slices of bread, laid out like a savoury bread pudding. I haven't had it in a while and it was so satisfying on a cold evening. No fancy flavours, no fancy ingredients but honest and tasty.

It is dead easy to make and super flavourful, and a traditional food from this area.

As mentioned in Day 34 of The Challenge Mushroom season is here now too! (I know, so many seasons... plums, pumpkins and now mushrooms, but that is the beauty of autumn and the harvest season. My tomatoes are coming in too, as are little cucumbers on my balcony garden). Chanterelles are ridiculously over priced most of the year, but suddenly in September and October they aren't! They are almost like a normal food! So we got a little wooden basket of them from the store and made... a tart! Ingredients: Crust: (you can use a store bought crust if you want, but this is also very quick and easy, I promise! It is better if you have a half hour to let it chill before rolling it out, but it still works if you don't) 3/4 c flour 1/2 c cold butter, cut into pieces pinch of salt 1/4 (approximate) water Tart: 250g of fresh chanterelles 1 1/2 c fresh cheese (the eat with a spoon-fresh like quark or blanc battue) a few sprigs of fresh thyme 1 tsp of dried sage 1 tsp butter salt and pepper to taste 4 zucchini flowers 1/2 tsp dried mint 1 tbsp parmesan 1 tsp olive oil Salt and Pepper to taste 1) To make crust, mix flour and salt. Cut in pieces of butter and mix together with fingertips until it forms a crumb like texture. Add water and mix with a fork, then knead into a soft dough. 2) Wrap in cling film and chill in the fridge for 30 minutes. 3) Mix the fresh cheese, reserving 1/4 c of it, with the thyme, sage, salt and pepper. Add 1 tbsp of water. 4) Roll out the crust to approximately 1 cm thick and line the bottom of a pie plate with it, and stab with a fork to create breathing holes. 5) Spread the fresh cheese over the crust in a thin layer. 6) Sauté the chanterelles briefly in the butter to allow them to give up their liquid (we didn't the first time making a mushroom tart and it was tasty, but swimming), then drain them (reserve the liquid if you want for use elsewhere) and sprinkle them over the cheese layer. 7) Take the remaining fresh cheese and mix it with the mint and some salt and pepper. Using a teaspoon, gently fill the zucchini flowers with it. 8) Place these on top of the tart and drizzle the olive oil over them. 9) Salt and pepper to taste and bake at 200°C for about 20 minutes. Serve warm with a side salad. Light but warm, it made a good lunch for an early autumn day, and easy to assemble too.

I've been making brownies for as long as I can remember. My mom used to bake them with my sisters and me when we were little, using them to teach us fractions and to occupy us in one place, with one mess - and once they were baked, to teach us self-control. and moderation. I used to think that brownies were an all-afternoon affair. And then I discovered that in actual fact they take all of 5 minutes to mix and then a half hour to bake. Given this, I am not sure why brownie mixes exist, but then I make everything from scratch. In high school, I went through a phase of making brownies multiple times a week with a friend. The recipe I grew up with is excellent, but it was then, and afterwards in University, that I began playing with it, adding fruit here, or a spice there, or tweaking the ingredients slightly. With a teething baby, I needed something easy to make and chocolatey the other night, so I decided to make brownies. It being blood orange season, one thing led to another and... Ingredients: 4 eggs 2 c sugar 1 c oil 1/2 c cocoa 1 3/4 c flour 1/4 c blood orange juice (the juice of 1 blood orange, really) Orange peel of the orange you juiced, the pith removed and sliced into thin strips. 1 tsp (generous) of vanilla 1/4 - 1/2 c milk 1 blood orange, thinly sliced 1) Beat the eggs and sugar together. Add oil, and combine. Add the cocoa and flour and stir. Add orange peel. 2) Mix in vanilla and juice. When WELL combined (you don't want to curdle the milk) stir in the milk. Start with a small amount and add more until you get the desired consistency. 3) Pour into a brownie pan, or a cast iron skillet will do very well, which is what I used. Arrange orange slices over the top and bake for 25-35 minutes at 175°C (or until done but still gooey in the centre). These are the best brownies I have ever made. The flavours, intensity, texture and consistency were all perfect, both when they were fresh out of the oven and the next day. I baked them in my heirloom skillet, which belonged to my grandmother and great-grandmother. I have been promised that I will be haunted by them both if I mistreat the skillet. Well, I think in this case they would have enjoyed it, so the haunting is not set to begin yet! Book Pairing: This recipe I associate with listening to Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil by John Berendt. It is about Savannah, its society and characters (of which there are some fantastic ones!) and an Occurrence during the author's time there. I thoroughly enjoyed listening to this (and can't wait to see the movie now), and while making the brownies, I was listening to the very end of the book. Coming to the end of a good book is always bittersweet, and this was. It is satisfying getting to the end, but then where does that leave you? You've left the people and places behind and emerged out the other end. As an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchases.