A pear encounter

More and more I think it is ethically wrong to find strawberries in January, or cherries in November. And I get really grumpy when I discover that my butternut squash comes from Greece or potatoes from Kenya...without wanting to sound too Daily Mail we-don't- want-foreign- food- here but.... "don't we grow this kind of stuff here?" Humph, humph...

I don't expect people to eat cabbage and parsnips for 6 months a year, but at least that our kitchens get synchronised a bit more around seasons without mobilising planes from God-knows-where.

This week I was supposed to travel to Mozambique but to my joy I didn't - I know, I know, I am really ungrateful to the blessing I have. And this is the worst part because when I say to people "Oh yes I have to give a workshop at a beach resort in Mozambique" then of course everyone says "Oh wow how cool!" To which I feel a complete brat. But the point is that after a while you do it, you don't fancy that much packing again, spending at least 18 hours between planes and lounges (however swish the Heathrow T2 one can be), and stuffing yourself with what my colleague calls "medication" - makes me feel I'm nuts.

In any case, as I happened to be in rainy England I thought of taking advantage of a great spot we discovered last year for a proper back-to-nature harvesting. Within 50 metre distance you literally bump (ok maybe not literally) into walnut, apple, and pear trees. However, to our deep disappointment the walnut tree had already dropped all its shells and the apple tree to make no apples whatsoever. Very sad indeed.

Our search though was not all in vain. The pear tree was in full abundance. A bit high up - and not just for me.... but with some primitive tools that mother nature provided I hit enough branches (as well as almost killing my husband) and caused a generous fall. Our month's provisions has been secured.

Now with such an opulence, I have come up with all unimaginable recipes that involve this key ingredient. I looked through one of my favourite blogs (luculliandelights) and I thought that Pear and pine nut semolina cake sounded absolutely scrumptious. What is great about this cake, isthe crunchiness and coarseness of the semolina; and that is why I would highly recommend that you eat it when it's still warm - shouldn't be difficult if you are as greedy as I can be. Also the longer you leave it, the more the taste of cardamom intensifies.

Pear, Cardamom, Apples and Pine Nut Cake

For a 20cm baking tin

280g semolina;

70g self raising flour;

400ml milk;

3 eggs;

100g butter;

200g sugar;

1 tsp cardamom;

3 tbsp pine nuts;

2 medium soft pears

1 soft apple (cox)

1. Mix the flour with the semolina and the cardamom.

2. Melt the butter (thanks God you don't have to soften it up and mix it with sugar which is one of those horrid things that cake recipes ask you to do) and mix it with the sugar. Then add the milk and bring it to boil.

3. Whisk the eggs and add to the milky mix once it has cooled down a bit or you'll make an omelette. Mix well.

4. Pour the milk/egg mix onto the semolina (I know this will sound very unorthodox but it does work). Leave it for a minute so that the semolina absorbs the liquid and then mix well.

5. Peel, remove stalk, and cut the pears into slices.

6. Grease and flour the baking tin. Pour the mixture in it.

7. Arrange the slices of pear and apple on the surface of the cake, sprinkle the pine nuts all around the surface. Finish with a touch of sugar sprinkled on top which will slightly caramelise.

Parmigiano - get it right!

I am in a state of shock by Nigella's understanding of Italian dishes. Cannelini beans, salame, tomatoes and ditalini?? What is this supposed to be? Has anyone seen her latest programme? Nigella Kitchen - without the apostrophe s. I always wonder: when in the programme they go out, are those hired friends? Who knows.

I used to be a big fan of her Christmas show, so much that I have fond memories of slipping into bed with a cup of hot chocolate and be inspired by Nigella. But this one? I am deeply troubled. Under what type of heavy substances is she? And why does she always pretend she has been told by Italians? Which ones? Va beh.

I have just come back from Tuscany where I experienced some new great dishes. As I feel generous and in a sharing spirit, I have decided to let you have the recipe. Also because it is very easy but of great impact.

I think parmisan, actually not, parmigiano...why do we feel the need to translate it? Do we say ceddaro when we refer to it in Italian? No. Exactly. And I am not particularly nationalistic but I cannot stand violence to language. It's a bit like the fashionable word of panini; you're supposed to order a (singular) panini even though the word implies the plural so it would be two panini...while if it is only one, it should be one or a panino! Va beh.

So, my recipe. We were exploring a few places for my sister's wedding, and one of these was Dievole, near Vagliagli, at the real heart of Chianti. Beautiful. Especially now when the vineyards have decided to change colour to their leaves but haven't made up their mind completely going from green to gold, to rusty red to brown.

I do not intend to make any publicity of the place itself (although I would highly recommend it...) but one of the suggested menus had a spuma di parmigiano con pere, miele e aceto balsamico (parmigiano mousse with pears, honey and balsamic vinegar). I didn't go and interrogate and extort the chef - didn't think it would have gone down well. So I tried to guess and came up with a rough idea of the recipe.

I tried it twice while I was at my parents' in Siena and this is what I think you should do:

For 4 people

Ingredients

> 250g parmigiano Reggiano; 300g single cream; 500g pears (Williams); 10g gelatine; 1 tbsp of honey; 1 tbsp of granulated sugar; 2 tbsp balsamic vinegar.

Preparation

> In a saucepan boil the cream.

> In a plate with cold water, soak the gelatine, squeeze it and add it to the cream. Stir well.

> Add to the cream, the grated parmigiano. Mix well whisking gently. Pour the mousse into individual ramekin which you will have previously greased or otherwise the mousse won't come out of them (and you will get really angry!). Set them aside for a few minutes to let it cool down, and then leave it in the fridge for an hour until it is completely set.

> Peel and chop the pears into small cubes. Mash half of them to make a pure'. Use the other half cut into cubes and cook in a pan with the honey, sugar and vinegar. Let the vinegar evaporate slightly and make a think syrup.

> Distribute the pear pure' on the serving plate. Turn the mousse onto the pure' (which you will have removed from the fridge a few minutes earlier so that it warms up a bit). Top up with the pear cubes and the sauce.