Dinner Party Triumph

In the midst of my house smelling like an authentic Italian home (picture one of those picturesque little places, nestled deep in the lush hills of Tuscany) home to an Italian mumma who looks strangely like me, only slightly more harassed and more-than-a-little sweaty...it is here that some truly wonderful dinner party creations have been born over the last fortnight; through blood, sweat and tears.

For the past two weeks my boyfriend I have been having a Come-Dine-With-Me-Off with my brother and his girlfriend, with some memorably wonderful and unforgettably bad outcomes, and today I'm going to share the peaks and troughs with you. 

As you know, I'm always in the market for stress-free and taste-full, so this was a perfect opportunity to stretch my kitchen-legs, to flex those admirable cooking biceps, if you will; it could have all gone horribly wrong, especially with such feigned self-belief as that.

This wondrous cook-off idea was mine…after I had cooked a distinctly average spaghetti bolognese accompanied by garlic bread and a little vin rouge (okay, more than a little vin rouge) and a rather-better fruit-bowl crumble, the recipe for which can be found by clicking here. However, this idea led to rather more exciting times than my first and best attempt at feeding everyone, on a rather fragile and slow-moving Sunday. While not particularly exciting, the best advice I can offer you when cooking a spaghetti bolognese is that ketchup, HP Sauce, Lea & Perrins and red wine (one for the dish, two for you, naturally) are the key to worldwide fame in the spag bol department. Not particularly like-a-mumma-used-to-make, but a serious goody nonetheless.

Following this was the first week's trials which firstly saw my (irritatingly lazy/good at cooking when he bothers, instead of ordering a chicken chow mein) brother cook up and absolute storm, with one of the best soup's I've ever tried, later deemed Max's Marvellous Mushroom Soup. To make this truly marvellous creation (I urge you to do this) here's the recipe and method for you, it's enough to serve 4:

Ingredients:

800g button mushrooms
4 spring onions, finely chopped
2g of chive stalks, chopped
2g basil leaves, chopped
Salt and pepper to taste
600ml of double cream
1 vegetable stock cube, made into broth
Chilli flakes, optional

Method:

1.) Put your spring onions, chives and basil in butter for a couple of minutes on a high heat, before placing all your mushrooms into the mix. Be sure to add olive oil to ensure you don't burn your mushrooms, cook until reduced a little, then add more butter.
2.) Once reduced, add your prepared stock, then cover and reduce the mixture by half (approximately 10 minutes.)
3.) Blend the mixture, place back into the pan, add your cream, chilli flakes and salt and pepper to taste and cook for a further five minutes, with the lid back on until reduced further.
4.) Blitz for a final time to ensure it is completely smooth and place back on the heat, until suitably warmed before serving.

As you can imagine this simple, rustic but smooth, luxurious soup went down an absolute storm and has been requested/created again since, I have a feeling it will be a firm household favourite in years to come, much to the annoyance of the part of me that still suffers from the curse of lifelong sibling rivalry on an almost daily basis.

The following day saw my boyfriend cook-up a heart attack for each of us, including chicken burgers in cheesy rolls with what we like to call 'fake cheese', we all know what we mean, those perfectly shiny squares of bright orange 'cheese'. I'd hate to see what kind of crazy cow it's made from.
His dish was finished off with mozzarella dippers and sweet potato fries, you know, just in case we hadn't all had enough carbs. Alas, his final dinner more than compensated for this slight oversight and temporary lapse in judgment. Oh the indigestion. Oh the meat sweats.

The next night my brother's girlfriend cooked up a healthy delight (thank goodness) including cooked peppers with overflowing spicy rice, chicken in a garlic and herb sauce and some homemade sweet potato fries. This was finished by the last triumph-of-other-people dish I will mention, before moving on to a well-kept family secret recipe. 

She made adorable puff pastry hearts, packed full of crème fraîche and topped with drizzly chocolate, with gorgeous little chocolatey strawberries served chilled, to the side. 

Adorable, girly and not completely awful for the waistline. Bravo.

Here's how she did it, again, it's enough to make 4:

Ingredients:

Ready-to-roll puff pastry (it's not lazy, it's efficient)
1 egg, beaten
1 pot of crème fraîche 
300g of milk chocolate
250g fresh strawberries
A sprinkle of sugar

Method:

1.) Cut your puff pastry into hearts and use a pastry brush to brush the beaten egg over each heart, before dusting with a little sugar and placing into the oven, on greaseproof paper for 10-15 minutes at 180 degrees, based on a fan assisted oven.
2.) Once cooked through, remove and leave to cool, before slicing each heart in half.
3.) Once sliced, add your crème fraîche and then, when ready place the two halves back together before drizzling yummy chocolate over them.
4.) Lastly, heat up your remaining chocolate and dip the whole strawberries into it, before leaving to one side to cool on some baking parchment.
5.) Serve together and enjoy.

Lastly, on the final and closing night, the fun and frolics fell to me and I decided to do a three course-er, no pressure whatsoever was put on oneself as, of course, one doesn't like to put pressure on oneself at all, does one? Sod that, the pressure was sodding high. Sod, sod, sod.

Growing up my favourite thing in the world, which I genuinely believed God created just for my pleasure (I'm not even religious, but feelings such as that would wash over me like a heavenly cloud with each spoonful) was my Grandma's Lemon Syllabub. Or, as I like to think of it, my Grandma's soaked-in-sherry, oh yeh, right up to the top, it's-lemon-but-that-doesn't-make-you-healthy-it-still-makes-you-a-total-lush-because-it-is-so-full-of-sherry syllabub. 

For my dessert, guess what, my interpretation happened - an interpretation that left everyone hiccuping naughtily and with satisfied, lemon-fuelled, smug looks on their faces.

Begrudgingly, I share the recipe with you now. I say begrudgingly because I fear we will now have a mass exodus of the following items listed in supermarkets all over the world this summer, once you mix all the ingredients together and experience something I suggest you all do, sooner rather than later. 

This recipe offers enough to serve eight people (who have a normal sized appetite for such dishes) or one person (for those, such as myself, who can be utterly dangerous with a large bowl of such yumminess and only one spoon.)

Ingredients:

One pint of double cream
175g caster sugar
Juice and rind of three large, unwaxed lemons
10 tbsp of medium dry sherry (I used Harveys Bristol Cream)

Method:

1.) Firstly grate the rinds of your lemons and place into a large mixing bowl, before squeezing all the juice you can out of the lemons and into the same bowl. 
2.) Then add your sugar, cream and sherry and beat with an electric whisk until thick. Don't over-beat this mixture or it will spoil. You want it like a thick, almost mousse-type consistency.
3.) Place in the fridge for approximately two hours, until set, and serve. I served mine with shortbread rounds which worked perfectly.

After all was eaten and drunk and I felt like I had just completed the London Marathon, I opted to force everyone to have a shot of Schnapps (a-la-after a meal on a European summer holiday style) and we all had the best sleep of our lives. THE END.

PS - if you do take me up on any of these dinner party highlights, then I salute you. Good luck. Go forth and make/break friendships, sweats and crockery. It's a whole lot of fun, if nothing else.