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Thomasina Miers
Thomasina Miers: ‘Having a house of happy, well-fed people makes me happy.’ Set design: Alun Davies. Styling: Kate Sutton. Photograph: Jay Brooks/The Guardian
Thomasina Miers: ‘Having a house of happy, well-fed people makes me happy.’ Set design: Alun Davies. Styling: Kate Sutton. Photograph: Jay Brooks/The Guardian

Thomasina Miers: the ultimate roast chicken and six other easy recipes

The chef and former MasterChef winner is happiest cooking at home. In an exclusive extract from her new book, she shares her favourite starters and main courses

Over the years, I have spent thousands of happy hours – as a child, student, twentysomething singleton and now a mother of three – in the company of those I love, sitting around a kitchen table. I have thrown last-minute parties for 40 people to celebrate my birthday, dinners that have grown from six to 14 in the space of a day, and breakfasts when neighbours have just popped in for some eggs, pancakes and company. It’s how I nurture those closest to me: having a house of happy, well-fed people makes me happy, too.

These dishes are achievable for any home cook. I write not as a chef or entrepreneur, nor as a MasterChef winner, but as a busy working woman. These recipes should not only satisfy (and sometimes impress), but also fill your kitchen with great smells and a sense of adventure. It’s amazing how a few spices can transform a simple recipe; equally, sometimes all you want is a perfect poached egg to make yourself feel whole.

I want to inspire you, not put pressure on you. Much of the food we see on television or on Instagram is not about real life. The secret to great simple food is simple organisation. Mrs Beeton had it right: order in the kitchen is key. That hasn’t always come easily to me – I am more of a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants person, and guests at my house often find themselves mucking in. In the early rounds of MasterChef, John Torode would shake his head at my chaotic approach; the show taught me that preparation saves both time and stress. Now I lay out ingredients before I start cooking (sometimes in the right weights), and have a bowl on my work surface for trimmings, which saves me untold numbers of trips to the bin.

I advise always making extra of every dish, so that you’re well stocked for the week ahead. It’s such a relief to come home midweek and find you’ve already done most of the work towards a meal. Sometimes, the prospect of making dinner can feel a total chore: maybe I’ve got home from work late, or my daughters are in a bolshie mood, or I’m feeling run down. But I am always glad once I start; it has become my form of mindfulness, a precious opportunity to disconnect and live in the moment. It gets the necessary done (feeding myself and my family, and eating healthily), while fulfilling the need to chill out and switch off.

Cooking with friends and family has provided me with some of my favourite memories: that gentle lull between courses, the contemplative end of a long meal, the va-va-voom that a bottle of mescal plonked on the table lends to a weekend dinner. I hope these recipes deliver some of that for you. Enjoy.

Corn and double cheese muffins

Thomasina Miers’ corn and double cheese muffins. Photograph: Louise Hagger for the Guardian. Food styling: Emily Kydd. Prop styling: Jennifer Kay

Californians eat variations on cornbread with everything from rich meat braises to light salads and eggs. This basic cornbread recipe was developed from a recipe in an old Chez Panisse cookbook. The quantities given can be baked as a single loaf in a buttered 900g loaf tin; the addition of feta, cheddar and herbs, then baking the mix as separate muffins, turns it into a top-notch breakfast, with or without a few rashers of bacon. Feeds four.

For the basic cornbread mix
100ml whole milk
240ml buttermilk
3 eggs
165g sweetcorn kernels, frozen and defrosted (or cut from a fresh cob)
100g plain flour
180g fine polenta
30g soft brown sugar
1 tsp fine salt
1 tbsp baking powder
80g butter
3 spring onions, halved lengthways and very finely sliced

For the muffins
50g cheddar, grated
50g feta, crumbled
4 fresh thyme sprigs, picked
1 pinch cayenne pepper

Heat the oven to 180C/350F/gas mark 4. Blend together the milk, buttermilk, eggs and 100g of the sweetcorn. Put the flour, polenta, sugar, salt and baking powder in a large bowl and whisk to combine. Melt the butter in a pan and add to the dry ingredients, along with the egg mixture, spring onions and remaining sweetcorn. Mix briefly just to bring everything together.

At this stage, it’s ready to be poured into a buttered bread tin and baked for about 45 minutes, or until a skewer comes out clean; leave to cool in the tin for 30 minutes, then turn out on to a rack to cool completely.

Alternatively, to make the muffins, simply add the cheeses, thyme and cayenne to the basic mix, pour into muffin trays lined with paper cases, and bake for 25-30 minutes.

Salmon ceviche with roast beetroot, pumpkin seeds and tarragon

Thomasina Miers’ salmon ceviche with roast beetroot, pumpkin seeds and tarragon. Photograph: Louise Hagger for the Guardian. Food styling: Emily Kydd. Prop styling: Jennifer Kay

Cut 800g peeled, trimmed beetroot into slender wedges and toss in two tablespoons of olive oil, salt and pepper. Roast in a preheated 180C/350F/gas mark 4 oven for an hour, until tender. Meanwhile, toast 40g pumpkin seeds.

When the beetroot is cooked, toss it in a tablespoon of cider vinegar, a big handful of chopped tarragon and the pumpkin seeds. Cut two organic salmon fillets into wafer-thin slices and dress with lemon juice, finely chopped green chilli and a slick of pumpkin seed oil. Serve with the beets on the side. Feeds four.

Sichuan aubergines

Thomasina Miers’ Sichuan aubergines. Photograph: Louise Hagger for the Guardian. Food styling: Emily Kydd. Prop styling: Jennifer Kay

I find Sichuan food intoxicating: it’s the vibrant combination of fried garlic, ginger, dried chilli and Sichuan pepper. It has become so popular in recent years that the ingredients are now easy to find in larger supermarkets or online, so invest in a few dried chillies, a small packet of Sichuan peppercorns and a bottle of Shaoxing rice wine. Aubergines are the perfect sponge for these gutsy flavours. Rather than deep-frying them, I prefer roasting, which uses less oil and makes less mess. The result is a soft, silky heap of aubergines doused in a deeply fragrant sauce. If you like, scatter 150g crisp, wok-fried minced pork on top before serving. Feeds four.

For the aubergines
4 large aubergines (about 1.2kg), topped and tailed
100ml vegetable oil
400g fat udon noodles
4 spring onions, trimmed and finely sliced
1 small bunch coriander, leaves picked and roughly chopped

For the sauce
3 tsp cornflour
3 tbsp vegetable oil
2 tbsp Sichuan chilli bean paste
2 large dried red chillies, crumbled (you can use Sichuan, Mexican chile de árbol, Italian peperoncino or chilli flakes)
2cm piece fresh ginger, peeled and finely chopped
3 garlic cloves, peeled and finely chopped
250ml chicken or vegetable stock
2 tbsp Shaoxing wine (or manzanilla)
1-2 tbsp soft light brown sugar
1 tbsp brown-rice vinegar

Cut the aubergines into 1-2cm-thick rounds, then cut each round in half across the middle. Sprinkle with a little fine sea salt, put in a colander and leave to drain in the sink or on the draining board for at least 30 minutes, to draw out excess water.

Heat the oven to 220C/425F/gas mark 7. Tip the aubergines into a roasting tin, toss them in the oil and roast for 40-50 minutes, until temptingly golden on the outside and completely soft within.

Meanwhile, get the sauce ready. Mix the cornflour with two tablespoons of water. Heat the oil in a large wok and, when hot, add the chilli bean paste. As soon as it starts sizzling, add the chillies, ginger and garlic, and stir-fry for a minute or so, taking care not to burn the chillies and garlic (if necessary, take the wok off the heat briefly).

Pour in the stock and cornflour paste, cook for a few minutes, until the sauce thickens, then add the rice wine, sugar and vinegar, and simmer for a few minutes, to give the flavours a chance to meld.

Meanwhile, cook the noodles according to the packet instructions, then transfer to warmed shallow bowls. Top with the aubergines and sauce, scatter on the spring onions and coriander, and serve.

Simple Moroccan fish stew

Thomasina Miers’ simple Moroccan fish stew. Photograph: Louise Hagger for the Guardian. Food styling: Emily Kydd. Prop styling: Jennifer Kay

I spent the third year of my Spanish degree in Santiago, Chile, where I befriended a bunch of locals. One weekend, we met a Moroccan fisherman who cooked for us in a huge oil drum over a fire. He kept adding layer upon layer of garlic, onion, spices, herbs, potatoes, fish and shellfish, and the result was extraordinary: a stew fresher than anything I had ever tasted, and alive with the sea. All coastal cultures have their own version of it: France has bouillabaisse, with tomato, fennel and anise; Kerala has red fish curry, with coconut milk and tamarind; Mexico’s fish stew is made with crab and smoky chillies. Prepare the base early, then put in the seafood at the last minute. Feeds four.

For the stew
3 tbsp olive oil
2 onions, peeled and finely sliced
3 garlic cloves, peeled and finely sliced
1 tbsp coriander seeds
1-2 pinches chilli flakes
1 tsp dried oregano
½ tsp saffron threads, soaked for at least half an hour in boiling water
1 preserved lemon, pulp scraped away, rind finely chopped
800g tinned plum tomatoes (ie 2 cans), drained, rinsed and chopped
600g floury potatoes, peeled and cut into walnut-sized chunks
250ml white wine
600g cod loin, skinned, cut into 3cm chunks (or red mullet or gurnard)
500g mussels, scrubbed and debearded

To finish
1 small handful fresh dill or coriander leaves (or both), finely chopped
Greek yoghurt
2 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil mixed with 2 tbsp rose harissa (shop-bought or homemade)
Crostini (optional)

On a medium heat, warm the oil in a large frying pan for which you have a lid, then gently saute the onions, garlic, coriander, chilli, oregano and a good pinch of salt for eight to 10 minutes, until everything is very soft. Turn up the heat to medium-high, stir in the soaked saffron and its water, then add the preserved lemon, tomatoes, potatoes and wine. Simmer for 12 minutes, stirring occasionally to prevent sticking, until the sauce has thickened slightly, then season to taste. Turn down the heat to low.

Lightly season the fish, then very gently fold it into the stew. Scatter the mussels over the top and clap on the lid. Leave to cook on a low heat for four to five minutes, then check to see if the mussels have opened: if they have not, replace the lid for another few minutes, until they’ve all opened (discard any that don’t).

Spoon the stew into bowls and scatter over the herbs. Serve at the table with the yoghurt, harissa oil and crostini or fresh crusty bread.

Grilled broad bean and jamón salad

This is one for spring, when early broads come into season. Heat a griddle pan on a high flame. Top and tail 250g young broad bean pods, cut the pods in half lengthways and toss with a tablespoon of olive oil, a quarter-teaspoon of chilli flakes and half a crushed garlic clove. Sprinkle the pods with water, then griddle on both sides until they blacken slightly. Remove from the pan, squeeze over the juice of half a lemon and season. Transfer to a bowl and mix with 300g warm shelled cooked broad beans, 100g thinly sliced Serrano ham, two tablespoons of shredded mint leaves, one peeled and finely sliced banana shallot, three tablespoons of good sherry vinegar and six tablespoons of extra-virgin olive oil. Feeds two to four.

Simple spiced dal with spinach and yoghurt

Thomasina Miers’ simple spiced dal with spinach and yoghurt. Photograph: Louise Hagger for the Guardian. Food styling: Emily Kydd. Prop styling: Jennifer Kay

Lentils and dried peas used to have a reputation for being a bit dull, but once you’ve tasted the richly spiced dals of India, you realise they can be the base for magnificent mains. This recipe uses the classic Indian technique of tempering spices: heating seeds, leaves or chilli flakes in hot fat to release their flavours, then scattering them over the dal before serving. Feeds four.

For the dal
400g yellow split peas
4 garlic cloves, peeled: 2 left whole, 2 finely sliced
A few bay leaves (fresh, ideally)
2 Kashmiri, árbol or other dried red chillies, 1 left whole, 1 crumbled into flakes
A little vegetable stock (if needed)
200g spinach leaves, washed
A squeeze of lemon juice, to taste
Chapatis and natural yoghurt, to serve

For the temper
6 tbsp vegetable oil
1 large onion, peeled and finely chopped
2 tsp black mustard seeds
1 small handful fresh curry leaves
1 tsp garam masala
½ tsp ground coriander
½ tsp ground turmeric
2 ripe tomatoes, chopped (or 2 drained and rinsed canned plum tomatoes)

Put the split peas in a sieve and run under cold water until it runs clear. Put in a pan with the whole garlic cloves, bay leaves and whole chilli, and add enough water to cover by 5cm. Bring to a boil and cook for 40-45 minutes, until tender and falling apart, skimming the water occasionally. Discard the bay and chilli, then use a stick blender or potato masher to create a smooth-ish texture. Season to taste.

Heat the oil for the temper in a frying pan on a medium flame. When hot, add the onion and fry for five minutes, until it turns translucent. Increase the heat a fraction and add the mustard seeds. The moment they pop, add the curry leaves and fry for just a moment, until they turn translucent. Add the sliced garlic and crumbled red chilli, fry for a couple of minutes more, until the garlic starts to colour, then stir in the garam masala, coriander and turmeric. Cook for 30 seconds, until the spices begin to smell fragrant, then add the tomatoes and leave to sizzle for a minute.

Warm up the split peas; add a ladle of water or vegetable stock, if they need loosening. Stir in the tempered spices and the spinach, then season to taste. Add a squeeze of lemon juice and serve with chapatis and yoghurt. This dal is also good topped with a fried egg or as an accompaniment to other curries.

My ultimate roast chicken

Thomasina Miers’ ultimate roast chicken. Photograph: Louise Hagger for the Guardian. Food styling: Emily Kydd. Prop styling: Jennifer Kay

Lunches or dinners at home are often last-minute arrangements, where we are suddenly expected to feed a mass of people but have next to no time to shop and cook. Roast chicken is my fallback for any such occasion, mainly because you can always be creative with how you cook it. Given that the chicken is the star of the show, I’d advise getting a bird of good quality from the butcher or farmer’s market, or a top-notch online seller such as fossemeadows.com. If possible, buy one with its gizzards and livers inside; stash the livers in the freezer until you have enough to make a pate and use the gizzards for a stock. Feeds four to six.

For the chicken
1 whole chicken, about 1.6kg
½ lemon
8 sprigs thyme or 2 sprigs rosemary
4 bay leaves
2 white onions, peeled and halved
5 garlic cloves
1 tbsp olive oil

For the potatoes
1kg baby new potatoes, scrubbed and halved
5 garlic cloves
1 handful fresh thyme sprigs (or oregano or rosemary), leaves picked
4 tbsp olive oil

For the gravy
½ chicken stock cube
1 tbsp plain flour
150ml dry white wine

Heat the oven to its highest setting. Season the chicken inside and out, then stuff it with the lemon, half the herbs and half an onion. Roughly slice the rest of the onions, spread them over the base of a roasting tray, then scatter over the garlic and the remaining herbs. Rub the chicken with the oil and season generously.

Pull the legs slightly away from the body, then sit the chicken breast side down on top of the onions and transfer to the oven. Immediately turn down the heat to 190C/375F/gas mark 5 and cook for just over an hour (30 minutes per kilo, plus 15 minutes for good measure). The chicken is cooked when the juices from the thickest part of the thigh run clear when pierced with a skewer (if in doubt, cut the thigh away from the body to see if it is cooked in that crevice). For the most succulent meat, it’s essential to rest the bird in a warm place, covered in foil, for 15 minutes while you make the gravy.

When the chicken is in the oven, pop the potatoes into a large baking tray with the garlic and herbs, pour over the oil, season well and give everything a good toss. Roast in the same oven as the chicken, stirring occasionally and adding a little oil if they look a bit dry. They will be crisp and golden in about an hour.

For the gravy, skim off most of the fat from the chicken tray, leaving only a few tablespoons behind, then put the tray on the hob over a medium heat. Crumble in the stock cube and whisk in the flour, and leave to bubble for a few minutes, to cook out the raw flavour in the flour. Pour in the wine a little at a time, letting it bubble for a minute between each addition, then boil for a few moments before adding enough boiling water to thin the mix to your desired consistency (anything between 200ml and 400ml, depending on how thick you like your gravy). Simmer for five to 10 minutes, and check for seasoning; I like lots of salt and pepper in my gravy.

Pick out and discard the herbs, but save the delicious onions and garlic to serve with the chicken. Pour the gravy through a sieve into a warm jug (though if it’s just family, I don’t bother), carve the bird and dish up.


This is an edited extract from Home Cook, by Thomasina Miers, published next week by Guardian Faber at £25. To order a copy for £17.50, go to bookshop.theguardian.com or call 0330 333 6846.

Next week: brunch, cake and puddings

Set design assistants: Charlie Speak and Hannah Gill. Hair and makeup: Oonagh Connor. Sky dress, simplybe.co.uk. Jewellery, stylist’s own. KitchenAid Artisan, from Lakeland and independent stockists nationwide. Special thanks to John Lewis, Little Red Rooster, Hackney Carpets, fab.com and eastlondonmanwithvan.com

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