We are finally closing the chapter on Notes from my Summer Kitchen. As summer has unfolded, I have been sharing recipes inspired by longer days, the garden and seasonal ingredients. I was amazed when working on this post at how many recipes we have cooked together and just what an incredible summer of food it has been. Thank you for reading, cooking and following along with me through the season of sunshine.

As a thank you to all my wonderful paid subscribers I have gathered every recipe from the season in one place. This bonus post is just for you, and I hope it will become a useful kitchen guide to return to whenever you are looking for a favourite summer recipe - this year and for many summers to come.

June

June was a month of tea parties and ice cream. It was a memorable month as the art of making the perfect tea sandwich went viral, by the end of the summer, I had shared ten different tea sandwiches and their fillings. I also shared a treasured family recipe for my mother’s homemade meringues.

As the heat waves rolled I shared a light and summery pasta salad which I made a lot as it required minimal cooking and kept well refrigerated. At times it was simply too hot to cook. I also plugged in my beloved ice cream machine and worked through all the classic flavours. My children and I definitely enjoyed our “summer of ice cream”.

1. Afternoon Tea Sandwiches and Peach Iced Tea

There were a lot of tea sandwiches and they were great fun to make: in part one I shared Cucumber Tea Sandwiches, Classic Egg Mayonnaise Tea Sandwiches and Chicken and Herb Tea Sandwiches.

Recipes | Substack

2. Strawberry Tart

I made a classic strawberry tart which was a chance to perfect a shortcrust pastry tart case and a classic crème pâtissière. This was gone in minutes of my family trying it…Usefully you can make all the component parts ahead and then assemble the tart (with your fruit of choice) just before eating. If I was making this today I would be using blackberries.

Recipe | Substack

3. Meringues and Cream

To complete a summer afternoon tea party of tea sandwiches and my strawberry tart I made my late mother’s recipe for homemade meringues. No recipe captures a taste of my mother’s cooking more to me than her meringues. She went through a real phase, a 30 year phase (give or take), where she made meringues monthly. Her kitchen wasn’t complete without a wicker basket full of meringues on the side somewhere. She would serve her meringues with berries and whipped cream. Here is the method.

Recipe | Substack

4. Summer Pasta Salad

It was time for something light, summery and easy to make. During the heatwaves that came one after another I made this pasta salad a lot: this recipe is the perfect amount of green goodness, crunch and of course pasta.

Substack

5. Homemade Ice Cream: Vanilla, Strawberry, Chocolate

In June I fired up the Gaggia Gelatiera ice cream machine, that my mother gifted me for one of my birthdays. I made all the classic Neapolitan ice cream flavours of Vanilla, Strawberry and Chocolate. They are classics for a reason as they offer the perfect mix of creamy, fruity, and decadent - allowing everyone a scoop of their favourite ice cream.

Recipes | Substack

July

In July schools broke up; keeping up with cooking, content and my children kept me very very busy. I planned and cooked family friendly recipes that we could all eat together. First up there was my summer roast chicken, this recipe completed a seasonal series of roast chickens. I then turned my hand to bread making with a homemade tomato focaccia and dipping oil. The dipping oil was a huge hit, as it brings all the wonderful flavours of antipasti together.

I then returned to the archive of my mother’s kitchen recipes and shared her very beautiful Summer pudding, full of nostalgia for me and just a wonderful summer dish. My children who love berries and hadn’t yet tried her recipe and that was a special moment. I looked to the garden for inspiration as the month came to a close and after a glut of courgettes at home I made a big platter of courgette fritters, served with a cooling homemade tzatziki. I have been making these fritters for years and they still remain one of my favourite ways to eat courgettes. I hope you will get a chance to try the recipe.

In amongst it all I shared more tea sandwiches and their popularity hit new heights with the most popular tea sandwich of the series tomato and cream cheese.

6. Summer Roast Chicken and Couscous Salad

There had been an Autumn Roast Chicken with Thyme, Apples and Shallots, then a fiery Winter Harissa Roast Chicken with Red Onions, a nourishing Spring Pot Roast Chicken with Leeks, Fennel and Thyme cooked in a broth. The Summer Roast Chicken was simply roasted and then dressed with a bright and beautiful herb dressing and a favourite recipe for a summer Couscous Salad.

Substack

7. Tomato Focaccia and Dipping Oil

Focaccia is a good place to begin bread making as the dough is reassuringly forgiving and surprisingly straightforward to make. The warmer days meant the dough rose easily and I chose to flavour the focaccia with herbs and seasonal cherry tomatoes. The antipasti dipping oil tasted fantastic, I will definitely be making this again next summer.

Substack

8. Afternoon Tea Sandwiches II and Raspberry Lemonade

In July I shared the second instalment of afternoon tea sandwiches and a delicious pink lemonade made with fresh raspberries. The new tea sandwiches were: Smoked Salmon and Lemon Butter Tea Sandwiches, Beef, Horseradish and Watercress Tea Sandwiches, Cream Cheese and Tomato Tea Sandwiches.

Recipes | Substack

9. Summer Pudding

Summer Pudding was the centrepiece of so many of our family gatherings when I was growing up. This is my mother’s recipe for the pudding that holds so many memories. You need 1kg of berries for this fruity delight.

Substack

10. Courgette Fritters and Tzatziki

These fritters are the perfect way to make the most of a summer glut, when the plants seem determined to produce more courgettes than anyone knows what to do with. You will need new-season courgettes for this recipe, and a mixture of colours and varieties works beautifully.

Substack

August

Life seemed to really slow down in August it was still extremely hot and the garden began to suffer from a lack of rain. Raspberries started in earnest and I used them to make a truly delicious raspberry ripple ice cream and a classic raspberry jelly. I wrote more recipes for afternoon tea sandwiches which continued to draw a crowd online and lots of questions followed about the proper way to serve an afternoon tea. I am hoping in September to expand this series and show how to build a proper English afternoon tea.

I wrote about my mother’s lemon trees and how their legacy in the garden brings us much comfort but also connects us to her. I made a light and summery lemon linguine dish with very few ingredients for such a delicious summer dish. The apricots and peaches ripened in the gardens and were one of the winners of the heat waves. So I used the apricots to make flapjacks and the sweet apricot compote worked really well with the buttery richness of the flapjacks. The final dish of the summer was this week’s aubergine parmigiana. A cozy comforting gratin of aubergine, mozzarella and sweet tomato sauce: it tastes like summer but has one foot in the comfort of autumn.

11. Homemade Raspberry Jelly and Raspberry Ripple Ice Cream

There is something wonderfully joyful about making homemade jelly: it is one of those simple cooking methods that never fails to bring a smile, whether served to children or adults. I served the raspberry jellies alongside my raspberry ripple ice cream below, however they are also lovely served with some softly whipped cream. Make the jelly the day before so it can sit in the fridge overnight and set.

Substack

12. Afternoon Tea Sandwiches Part III

Finishing the series of perfect afternoon tea sandwiches for the summer I made: Radish and Salted Butter Tea Sandwiches, Ham, Cheddar and Mustard Tea Sandwiches and sweet version with Strawberry Jam Tea Sandwiches. I also bought my recipe for Coronation Chicken Tea Sandwiches out of the archives and added it to the collection. The question I am debating now is whether or not we need a Part IV for this series in September… to be continued.

Recipes

13. Lemon Linguine

In August I wrote about my mother’s lemon trees who have thrived in the hot weather. I used them as inspiration for this recipe based on Spaghetti al Limone. However, I much prefer to use linguine, as its flatter shape holds the delicate sauce beautifully. This recipe transforms a handful of humble ingredients into a memorable summer dish, I served it with a peppery rocket salad on the side.

Substack

14. Apricot flapjacks

This recipe makes a quick apricot compote as a filling to the flapjacks. This bake ticks all the boxes for something cozy and sweet; an afternoon pick-me-up as September arrives. It feels like a final taste of summer, with one foot in autumn.

Substack

15. Aubergine Parmigiana

This wonderful dish was my last summer recipe: layering aubergines, a sweet tomato sauce and creamy mozzarella. Everything is baked in the oven until bubbling and golden. It is rich and comforting, whilst being full of all the best flavours of summer. It is surely the perfect dish to carry us from summer to autumn. Serve the Aubergine Parmigiana with crusty bread and a good green salad.

Substack

And so, as we bid a finally farewell to the summer kitchen, we open the chapter on my autumn kitchen. In the garden the colours have mellowed and softened, greens melt into red and gold. The night air has a new chill and the garden is giving a final display with the Autumn harvest. We collect and store the pumpkins and squash, pick pears, apples, quince and sloes. There are brambles and autumn raspberries to enjoy but also to save and freeze. The autumn kitchen is one of my favourites and there are so many exciting recipes ahead.

Leave a comment

Share

I would argue that the days of the insipid supermarket tomato are thankfully behind us. We now import wonderful tomatoes into the UK throughout the summer and I can regularly find really great tomatoes not only at local delis and farm shops, but also in our supermarkets. Our own UK tomato season comes later, starting in late August and running through September, into early autumn. Looking at the garden, I am always surprised that produce we associate with summer, such as basil and tomatoes, is at its best in our greenhouse now. This particular harvest feels at odds with the falling leaves and trees already laden with autumn fruits; almost late to the party.

All summer I have had a keen eye on the greenhouse and the tomato vines, waiting for them to ripen, and they are finally ready. It means a few weeks of great tomato recipes will be coming your way, from this Aubergine Parmigiana, to a Greenhouse Tomato Soup and a family favourite Homemade Meatballs and Spaghetti, coming in early September.

Right about now, my mother’s garden produces a mountain of tomatoes. There are tomatoes of every size and colour, their vines entangled together. They grow happily alongside cucumbers, as well as parsley and basil. We grow tomatoes in both the poly-tunnel adjacent to the vegetable garden and in the greenhouse in the sunken Mediterranean garden. The tomato vines are tied overhead and the ground below is often planted with marigolds. The strategy is to attract beneficial insects and pollinators and help discourage some pests. The bright red tomatoes, orange marigolds and green basil are a cheery trio; a gift from all the summer sunshine and heat.

The smell of tomatoes when you enter a greenhouse is distinctive, grassy and green. Perfumers have tried to bottle the scent of green tomato vine, such is its addictive quality. That unmistakable aroma comes from the volatile compounds produced by the plant, some of which form part of its natural defence system. What smells wonderful to us can help protect the leaves and stems from the pests that might otherwise munch on them.

In autumn, and in preparation for the darker months of winter, my mother would harvest trays of tomatoes to prepare and store, as homemade roasted tomato sauce. She would drag out her trusty Kenwood blender for the occasion, making batch after batch. Encouragingly, the process couldn’t be simpler and it has become an end of summer tradition for me to carry on the tomato harvest. It marks the beginning of term time and back to school in our home, providing a reassuring counterpoint to the chaos of preparing for the new school year. The school shoes I need to buy may have already sold out… but I have a stash of delicious roasted tomatoes in the freezer, ready for sauces, soups and risottos.

At local farmers’ markets, farm shops and good greengrocers, you will now find British tomatoes at their best. I would encourage a little back to school escapism by finding the most beautiful ones and preparing them for your freezer. To do so:

1. Harvest or buy the tomatoes

2. Wash well

3. Pack into a roasting tray, cutting the larger ones in half

4. Generously drizzle with olive oil, season with sea salt and any herbs (basil, parsley, oregano), plus garlic if using

5. Roast until the tomatoes have collapsed, around 20 minutes or so in a 180°C fan oven

6. Cool and remove skins with a pair of kitchen tongs

7. Blend with a stick blender

8. Press through a sieve

9. Store in freezer bags, or ice cube trays

10. Label and date!

You will now have the most beautiful and flavourful tomato base for so many dishes: tomato soup, tomato risotto, tomato sauce and much more.

As we head into the August Bank Holiday weekend, there is one last chance to enjoy summer and take some time off before it’s back to school. This week, I wanted to choose a recipe with which to finish the summer series, filled with all the flavours of the season, but also one that can be made ahead to feed a crowd, because Bank Holidays are a time to catch up with family and friends. This is really the dish I have been waiting to make all summer; any combination of aubergine, tomatoes, mozzarella and basil is already heaven for me. Layered together in a gratin and baked until golden and bubbling, it has my full attention.

Aubergine Parmigiana

This is a wonderful dish layering aubergines, a sweet tomato sauce and creamy mozzarella. All the ingredients are baked in the oven until bubbling and golden. It is rich and comforting, whilst being full of all the best flavours of summer: the perfect dish to carry us from summer to autumn. Serve the Aubergine Parmigiana with crusty bread and a good green salad.

Serves 6

• olive oil, as needed

• 3 garlic cloves, peeled

• 1 litre (or 3 tins) good quality chopped tomatoes

• 70g tomato puree (2 heaped tablespoons)

• 25g fresh basil

• 1/2 tablespoon light brown sugar

• sea salt, to taste

• 3 aubergines

• 1/2 cup breadcrumbs

• 100g Parmesan

Prepping all the ingredients

• To make the tomato sauce: to a pot add a generous amount of olive oil over a low heat, once warm add the garlic cloves, to flavour the oil. Next add the tomatoes (carefully if the oil is hot). Add two stems of basil and the tomato paste. Bring up to a simmer and simmer gently for 30 minutes or so, you want the sauce to reduce and thicken.

• Whilst the tomato sauce is cooking you can prep your aubergine. Wash, dry and trim the top and bottom (discard). Then slice the aubergine either across (as I have here) in cross sections or lengthways, the later is actually slightly easier for layering the final aubergine parmigiana. Season with a sea salt and pat dry with some kitchen towel, to remove excess liquid. Then brush one side with olive oil.

• Heat a griddle pan until very hot and place the aubergine (oil side down) on the griddle. Add enough aubergine slices to grill, without overfilling the pan. After a few minutes turn over and brush the remaining sides with olive oil. You want to grill the aubergine so that it has a good char and is cooked and tender. Remove to a plate and set aside. Repeat until all the aubergine is cooked.

• Prep the mozzarella by patting it dry and tearing it apart into small chunks with your fingers. (I find this so much better than cutting the mozzarella into rounds as it distributes better in the dish).

• Prep the topping by adding some olive oil to the breadcrumbs (so that they brown beautifully) and grating the parmesan. Set aside.

• The tomato sauce should now be ready and smelling wonderful, most importantly thickened and reduced. Remove from the heat and set aside to cool.

Building the Aubergine Parmigiana

Preheat the oven 180°C fan oven.

Take an oven proof dish and layer tomato sauce, slices of aubergine, a handful of picked basil leaves and the shredded mozzarella. Spread each layer evenly to fill the dish. Repeat until you have used up all the ingredients and finish with a final layer of the homemade tomato sauce.

Scatter the top with the breadcrumbs, coated in oil. This helps absorb a little liquid and give some texture. Then scatter generously with the grated Parmesan.

If making ahead cool fully, cover and refrigerate.

Cooking the Aubergine Parmigiana

Cover with foil and bake the Aubergine Parmigiana in the oven for around 20 minutes, then remove the foil and bake for a final 20 minutes to crisp the topping.

Serve the Aubergine Parmigiana bubbling from the oven, alongside some crusty bread and a good green salad.

About Notes from my Kitchen

Hello, I am Miriam and I write from my London kitchen table, sharing the food and flavours of my English childhood. As there have been so many new follows here I like to reintroduce myself and my cookery writing. My recipes are rooted in memory, seasonality, family and the quiet rituals of home. Much of my inspiration comes from my late mother and her much-loved Kentish garden, which she designed and built. It remains a place that shapes how I cook and think about food, and one I hope to share with you through the seasons. Revisiting her recipes and reimagining her cooking brings a sense of belonging. Thank you for your support and readership.

Leave a comment

Share

After so much drought and heat, fifty days or more, the rain finally came this week. My first thought was how grateful the garden must be; my second jumped ahead to the cozy season stretching out before us. Autumn feels early this year, as I write looking through the window beside my desk, the trees are already shot with yellow and the leaves are beginning to fall. With a cooler breeze in the air, there is a sense that the season is turning and summer is finally drawing golden curtains across her sunlit stage.

Looking back through Notes from my Summer Kitchen, there have been so many wonderful fruits to cook with and there is just one more I would look to shine a light upon. This week I am writing about our homegrown peaches and apricots, which are in season in the UK from July through to early September. You will no doubt find UK grown varieties in your local shops, but the season is short so there is no time like the present to enjoy this harvest.

At home, we try and pick the fruit while it is still slightly firm and allow it to ripen indoors. Otherwise the wasps and birds tend to get their first. Our peach and apricot trees grow against the walls of the house and along the old walls flanking the orchard, strategically positioned in the warmest and sunniest spots. Once the fruit appears the sight of their golden and pink-hued skins, glows against the garden walls.

Subscribe now

We make apricot jam at home: to eat mostly on hot buttered toast. Another personal favourite is a traditional steamed jam sponge pudding, which is a recipe I am hoping to circle back to this autumn. To a pudding basin you add jam and then a sponge cake batter, the pudding is then secured with paper, foil and string before being steamed for around 2 hours. The pudding is then turned out and the jam forms a wonderful sweet and sticky topping to the sponge below. This recipe is fantastic with tangy apricot jam and best served with custard. However, all of this takes some planning and execution so perhaps the simplest way to enjoy the harvest is to roast peaches and apricots with sugar and vanilla until soft, sweet and concentrated in flavour. Serve warm with vanilla ice cream, or a spoonful of thick set Greek yogurt.

If I am truly time short then a compote takes 15 minutes at most: remove the stones and roughly dice, add to a pan with a splash of water and sugar. Simmer until collapsed and taste for more sugar and a tablespoon of fresh lemon to add sharpness. It is just such a compote that I am using as a filling for this week’s recipe: Apricot Flapjacks. This bake ticks all the boxes for something cozy and sweet; an afternoon pick-me-up as September arrives. It feels like a final taste of summer, with one foot in autumn.

Apricot Flapjacks

The word flapjack it turns out dates back to 16th-century England, originally describing a flat tart or pie. In the 1930s, flapjacks began to refer to the sweet treat we know today: a dense tray-bake made from oats, butter, and golden syrup. This is precisely what I am cooking this week and for me flapjacks should be crumbly, buttery and sweet with brown sugar and golden syrup. The layer of apricot compote adds a wonderfully tangy, fruity bite to cut through all the richness.

My top tip is I recommend cooling the flapjacks in the tin and then overnight in the fridge. This will help them keep their shape when you cut into squares the following day. Store in an airtight container but I assure you they will disappear fast…

makes 16 flapjacks

filling:

• 6 apricots, cut in half and stone removed

• 2 tablespoons lemon juice

• 30g light brown sugar

flapjacks:

• 400g rolled oats

• 250g unsalted butter

• 100g golden syrup

• 100g light brown sugar

equipment:

• 23cm square baking tin

• greaseproof paper

method

To make the filling for the flapjacks: wash the apricots and cut in half, remove and discard the stone. Roughly chop the fruit and add to a pan with the lemon juice and 30g of light brown sugar. Cook over a medium heat for around 10 minutes until you have a compote and the apricots collapse when mashed with a fork. Set aside to cool.

To make the flapjacks: preheat the oven to 180C fan oven. Take a 23cm square baking tin and line with greaseproof paper. Place the butter, golden syrup and 100g light brown sugar in a small saucepan and heat gently until melted. Remove from the heat. To a bowl add the oats and the warm butter, golden syrup, brown sugar mix: combine well using a spatula. Take the lined baking tin and add half the oat mix: flatten in one even layer to the corners. Then add the apricot filling. Top this carefully with the remaining oat mix again pressing the oats down in one firm even layer, all the way to the corners.

Bake the flapjacks in a preheated oven for 25 minutes until golden and cooked through. Remove the tin from the oven and cool completely. I like to then refrigerate overnight before cutting into squares. This will help the flapjacks retain their shape. Store in an airtight container to enjoy in the coming days.

About Notes from my Kitchen

Hello, I am Miriam and I write from my London kitchen table, sharing the food and flavours of my English childhood. As there have been so many new follows here I like to reintroduce myself and my cookery writing. My recipes are rooted in memory, seasonality, family and the quiet rituals of home. Much of my inspiration comes from my late mother and her much-loved Kentish garden, which she designed and built. It remains a place that shapes how I cook and think about food, and one I hope to share with you through the seasons. Revisiting her recipes and reimagining her cooking brings a sense of belonging. Thank you for your support and readership.

Leave a comment

Share

My mother Marion’s childhood home was in Constantia, originally a rural outpost of Cape Town noted for its magnificent Dutch farmsteads and vineyards. In this pastoral setting, her upbringing was both idyllic and privileged. She often recalled walking barefoot in the fields and orchards, gorging herself on fruit: although she later admitted that it could also have been covered in pesticides, which were widely used in the 1950s. This bounty served as a powerful influence on Mum’s style as a cook, which was often inspired by produce and plenty.

Later, when she came to Kent things seemed to come full circle. She designed and planted a beautiful garden with an orchard, fruit cages, a working vegetable garden and a poly-tunnel all heaving in produce. It remains a source of immense pride to her family that she was able to grow large quantities of citrus fruits and other exotic fare in East Kent, despite the climate. The minor inconvenience of English weather was not enough to deter Mum: her garden heaved then, as it still heaves now, with oranges, lemons, grapefruits, persimmons, kiwis, berries, vines and figs. Many thousands of miles from her birthplace, Marion had, perhaps without even realising it, recreated something of the abundance of her Constantia childhood in a Kentish garden. It was a garden she truly loved, and one that we are enormously fortunate to cherish today.

One of her great legacies in the garden is a plethora of citrus trees, and during this heatwave I have found them impossible to ignore. The wonderfully scented blossom has given way to lemons, oranges and grapefruits, but it is the lemons that are particularly magnificent. They are Amalfi-worthy: great, beautiful yellow fruit hanging from glossy green leaves while much of the garden around them struggles for water and rain, battered by a multitude of heat waves.

Their success is no accident. Mum’s citrus trees have always been exceptionally well cared for. In winter, the smaller trees are moved into the greenhouse for safekeeping, while the larger specimens are encased in bespoke little greenhouse huts that my mother had specially built for them. They are so beautifully insulated that on particularly cold days I have been known to look at them with some envy—our old house can be exceptionally cold in winter. No such hardship for Mum’s lemon trees.

Subscribe now

Mum’s lemon trees are positioned around the terraces that flank the extension my parents built onto the original house. During the building works in 2009, I remember standing with them in what felt like an enormous crater, where the previous extension had once stood, looking back in the gaping sides of the old house. The original extension had been a rather unhappy gabled structure, badly rendered and inexplicably painted an off-terracotta while the rest of the house remained pink. Once it was demolished time was spent restoring the main house, the render was stripped away, the original flint and brickwork beneath was finally revealed and the longstanding problems with damp resolved. Then a new extension was built matching the flint and brick structure of the original house.

When the building works were eventually completed (with something of a Nordic-style saga attached to it) the landscape surrounding the house was left barren. My mother set about changing that. She designed a series of terraces running around the back of the house and, remarkably, began building much of them herself, laying stone, brick and flint into beautiful patterns along the pathways. She was a crafts woman and didn’t hesitate to bring her flair and creativity to the pathways, which add immeasurable character to the garden and house. Sadly, she never had the chance to complete them, and we are still slowly finishing the paths and carrying out her designs today. The sections she painstakingly built are the most beautiful and detailed, with patterns of stone, brick and flint set by hand into cement.

Alongside the terraces, she created a sunken garden just beyond the back door, enclosed by brick walls and wonderfully sheltered from the elements. Previously it was home to a long dank greenhouse which had fallen into total disrepair. It is today a glorious sun trap. We grandly call it the Mediterranean garden for its micro climate and there persimmons, vines and citrus all thrive. And this is where her lemon trees are happiest. They run along the pathways she built and on the terraces, tucked against the warm brick walls, their pots positioned to catch every last bit of sunshine.

I used to ask Mum what her favourite kitchen ingredients were, and her top five would invariably include vanilla, butter, double cream, sea salt and lemons, followed emphatically with, “I cannot cook without lemons.” There was always a bowl of them on a counter somewhere, and she did indeed use them plentifully. This week, I wanted to choose a recipe that celebrated lemons without too much adulteration. So often they become the background note in cooking: the sharp acidity that brings a dish alive while the lemon itself remains backstage. I wanted to put them centre stage and nothing felt more summery than Lemon Linguine. It is precisely the sort of food I want to eat in August: simple, delicious and made from a smattering of ingredients that, when brought together, taste far greater than the sum of their parts.

Lemon Linguine

There are plenty of recipes for Spaghetti al Limone, but I much prefer to use linguine here, as its flatter shape holds the delicate sauce beautifully. I have deliberately left out any use of cream: the idea is for this dish to feel light, lemony and summery. Really, it is simply linguine tossed in a dressing of good extra virgin olive oil and lemon, with Parmesan added for richness and depth of flavour. It is one of those wonderfully simple combinations that transforms a handful of humble ingredients into a memorable summer dish. Serve with a peppery rocket salad on the side.

serves 4

ingredients

• 450g linguine

• 4 unwaxed lemons

• 1 tablespoon lemon zest

• 150ml extra virgin olive oil

• 75g Parmesan, finely grated

• 1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

• 1/2 teaspoon sea salt

• 25g fresh basil

method

Place a large pot of water onto boil, season with sea salt and add the linguine to cook. Cook according to the packet instructions to be al dente.

In the meantime zest 1 lemon and then juice the lemons you will need 100ml-120ml lemon juice (depends on the lemons and how much juice they yield). To a bowl add the lemon zest, lemon juice, olive oil and finely grated parmesan, freshly ground black pepper and sea salt. Whisk to combine.

One the linguine is al dente, reserve a mug of the pasta water and set aside (this pasta water will help emulsify the sauce and allow it to cling to the linguine). Drain the linguine and add to a large bowl. Pour over the lemon sauce and with tongs combine the linguine and the sauce slowly adding some of the pasta water to create a rich silky lemon sauce, you won’t need all of it. You are now ready to serve.

To a clean bowl add the linguine, scatter with a few slices of fresh lemon and the fresh basil leaves. Serve immediately.

About Notes from my Kitchen

I write from my London kitchen table, sharing the food and flavours of my English childhood. My recipes are rooted in memory, seasonality, family and the quiet rituals of home. Much of my inspiration comes from my late mother and her much-loved Kentish garden, which she designed and built. It remains a place that shapes how I cook and think about food, and one I hope to share with you through the seasons. Revisiting her recipes and reimagining her cooking brings a sense of belonging.

Leave a comment

Share

It has been an exceptionally sad week as we have said our final goodbye to my much-loved dog, Eloise, after 15½ years together. Her loss has meant I am running a little behind with this week’s post, and I hope you will forgive the slight delay. I wanted to spend as much time with her as I could, and the grief of losing my constant companion has been far harder than I ever imagined. I wanted to mention her because she was such a familiar presence in my kitchen. Curled up quietly in the corner, she was there for almost every recipe I made, happy simply to keep me company. I still find myself glancing towards her empty bed, she is so very missed.

To lift our spirits, I thought this might be the week to write about our much-anticipated raspberry harvest. The sight of those first pink and red berries appearing along the canes has brought a little joy at a time when we have needed it most. There could be no happier recipes to make with them than raspberry ripple ice cream and homemade raspberry jelly, and so that is exactly what I am sharing this week. They may not mend a broken heart, but they are recipes of comfort, pleasure and the quiet hope that, even in difficult weeks, there is still joy to be found in the kitchen.

Subscribe now

If you were to walk with me through the garden in August one of our first destinations would be the raspberry canes which stretch between the old orchard wall and edge the vegetable garden. Next year we hope to add cherries to the wall too, making this little corner even more abundant, but for now it belongs entirely to the raspberries, which are in magnificent full crop. There is no better feeling than picking them straight from the cane, still warm from the summer sun and perfectly ripe. Admittedly, not many ever make it back to the kitchen, but for those that do, these are the two recipes I would save them for.

Jelly is one of my favourite recipes to make during the summer months, and last year you may remember I shared a mulberry jelly made using exactly the same method. The recipe below can easily be adapted throughout the season with whichever berries you have to hand. Our mulberry tree is several hundred years old. Time has split it into great twisting limbs that now lean wearily across the lawn. Some branches are still laden with fruit, while others have long since given up. As children we climbed amongst its low-slung branches, building dens and disappearing into our own little world.

By late summer the tree produces magnificent giant mulberries. If you’ve never tasted one, they are among the finest of all berries, with a frustratingly short season. They bruise almost as soon as they are picked, bleed their deep purple juice onto everything they touch and simply don’t travel well. They are wonderfully elusive, which is why I think they are so special. The best approach is to gather them quickly and make the juice for this jelly while they are at their best. It isn’t something you can buy, and that makes it feel all the more precious. If you’d like to make my mulberry jelly too, you’ll find the recipe on my website (linked here).

But I digress, onto this week's recipes, because Substack has politely informed me that I am "nearing the email length limit", so I think my work here is done.

Raspberry Jelly

There is something wonderfully joyful about making homemade jelly. It is one of those simple methods that never fails to bring a smile, whether served to children or adults. For this recipe I used little jelly moulds, but they are equally beautiful set in an assortment of glasses or small bowls. I served the raspberry jellies alongside my raspberry ripple ice cream below, however they are also lovely served with some softly whipped cream. Make the jelly the day before so it can sit in the fridge overnight and set.

makes 4 jellies

ingredients

• 570ml (1 pint) raspberry juice, for which you will need 500g raspberries

• 60g golden caster sugar

• 4 leaves of leaf gelatine

• raspberries to decorate

equipment

• jelly moulds

method

Make the raspberry juice: to a pan add the fresh raspberries and 200-300ml water. Set over a medium heat and bring up to a boil; the fruit will begin to break down as it cooks. After 5 minutes remove from the heat and strain through a sieve and into a bowl, to remove all the seeds and pith (discard this). Next add the golden caster sugar to the raspberry juice so it can dissolve. Taste and check the sweetness.

Dissolve the gelatine in cold water for 5 minutes (or according to the packet’s instructions). Squeeze out any excess water and add the softened gelatine leaves into the raspberry juice. Stir until fully dissolved.

Pour the jelly mix into the jelly moulds/ or into glasses and refrigerate overnight, so that the jelly can set in the fridge.

The next day un-mould/ or serve the jellies in glasses with ice cream, or whipped cream.

Homemade Raspberry Ripple Ice Cream

Earlier this summer I shared my love of making homemade ice cream, working through the three classic Neapolitan flavours: vanilla, strawberry and chocolate. Together they offered the perfect balance of creamy, fruity and indulgent. But once you start making your own ice cream, the possibilities quickly become endless, and raspberry ripple ice cream has been at the very top of my list to try. Sweet vanilla ice cream threaded with ribbons of sharp raspberry sauce is, to me, one of the most perfect flavour combinations of summer. If you haven’t yet tried my vanilla ice cream, I’d encourage you to begin here instead. This has become one of our favourite ice creams of the season.

ingredients

• 400ml whole milk

• 400ml double cream

• 1-2 vanilla pods

• 150g caster sugar

• 250g raspberries

• 2 tablespoons golden caster sugar

equipment

• ice cream machine

• ice cream tub, for freezing

method

Turn the ice cream machine on and follow the instructions to cool the ice cream bowl. Ready to make ice cream.

In a pan warm the whole milk, add the split vanilla pod and warm until just boiling, but not boiling. The vanilla will now have infused in the milk. Pour into a jug to cool, using a sieve to remove any of the vanilla pod. Add the sugar, the double cream and a pinch of sea salt. Combine gently with a spoon and then allow the ice cream mixture to cool fully.

Pour into the ice cream machine and switch to the churn setting, to make ice cream. In about 20-30 minutes (depending on your machine) you should have a soft churn ice cream.

Meanwhile to a pan add the raspberries, a splash of water (not too much as you want a syrup rather than a sauce), place over a medium heat. Bring up to a boil and mash the fruit down as it cooks. Remove from the heat and strain over a sieve and into a jug. Sweeten the raspberry juice (whilst still hot) with golden caster sugar. You now have a homemade raspberry syrup, allow to completely cool whilst the ice cream finished churning.

Take your ice cream tub and add a layer of vanilla ice cream, then ripple through a few spoonfuls of the raspberry syrup. Repeat these layers until the tub is full. Freeze for a minimum of 6 hours, ideally overnight. You now have raspberry ripple ice cream ready to serve and enjoy.

About Notes from my Kitchen

I write from my London kitchen table, sharing the food and flavours of my English childhood. My recipes are rooted in memory, seasonality, family and the quiet rituals of home. Much of my inspiration comes from my late mother and her much-loved Kentish garden, which she designed and built. It remains a place that shapes how I cook and think about food, and one I hope to share with you through the seasons. Revisiting her recipes and reimagining her cooking brings a sense of belonging.

Leave a comment

Share

This is my final post of July and I have found myself reflecting on the month that has passed. When the school holiday’s stretch out before me, it can sometimes feel as though I am not quite achieving everything that I should. Truthfully, July has slipped through my fingers. But that's perhaps the magic of a good summer: it is not built from grand moments, but from small ones, quietly stacked on top of each other. A summer well lived can be as simple as tending to the small things, right where you are.

Despite the heat waves and slower schedule my kitchen has been busier than ever. We have cooked quite a few recipes together this month: from lemonade and more afternoon tea sandwiches, a summer roast chicken with a herb couscous salad, homemade focaccia studded with rosemary and cherry tomatoes, served with an antipasti dipping oil. The highlight of the month for me was making my mother’s Summer Pudding, filled with summer berries and left overnight in the fridge before being turned out with great anticipation. For my last July recipe I am returning to the kitchen garden for inspiration and one of my favourite summer ingredients. The first courgettes have now arrived and they are being used to make my Crispy Courgette Fritters, served warm with a squeeze of fresh lemon and a fragrant homemade tzatziki.

Subscribe now

We are growing two beautiful varieties: buttery yellow Zephyr and dark green Defender. They are best picked young, when the flavour is sweet and the texture is still crisp. The courgette plants themselves are a glorious tumble of broad, fairy-tale-worthy leaves, beneath which hide a tangle of stems and courgettes, punctuated by bright yellow flowers. Courgettes have never been the most popular vegetable in my house, but this recipe has a habit of winning everyone over. Crisp on the outside and soft within thanks to the ricotta stuffing. They disappear shortly after leaving the frying pan. You will have to take my word for it and try these.

There are some truly wonderful recipes I reserve for courgette season. One recipe I return to time and time again is Spaghetti alla Nerano, now affectionally known as Stanley Tucci’s favourite courgette spaghetti. The courgettes are gently fried in olive oil until meltingly soft, before being emulsified with pasta water to coat the spaghetti in a silky, deeply savoury sauce. It is one of those recipes (chosen by Tucci for good reason) as it transforms a humble courgette into something altogether irresistible to eat.

I also love stuffed courgette flowers, which I made with my mother a few times. We filled the flowers with ricotta, lemon zest and fresh herbs, then dipped them into a flour batter made with sparkling water, before shallow-frying in hot oil, until golden. They are wonderful served over a sweet cherry tomato sauce: the sweetness of the tomatoes perfectly balances the savoury courgettes.

Another winning family recipe is a rich vegetarian lasagne - layering slices of roasted courgettes, between sheets of fresh egg pasta and a béchamel sauce. Comforting and generous. It is not something I have attempted cooking during this heat wave, but it is the perfect dish for a cooler summer evening and a wonderful recipe for feeding a crowd.

Now without further distraction onto this week’s recipe.

Courgette Fritters

You will need new-season courgettes for this recipe, and a mixture of colours and varieties works beautifully. They are the perfect way to make the most of a summer glut, when the plants seem determined to produce more courgettes than anyone knows what to do with.

Trim and grate the courgette with the skin on, to get all the green goodness. This also gives the fritters great texture and body. The fritters are shallow fried in olive oil until golden and crisp, while the ricotta and egg make them wonderfully light to eat.

Serve warm with plenty of fresh lemon and a bowl of homemade tzatziki (the recipe is included below). They make a delicious summer meal, accompanied by a green salad.

Makes 10-12 Fritters

ingredients

• 2 medium courgette

• 1 onion, finely chopped

• 1 large organic egg

• 80g ricotta cheese

• 5 heaped tablespoons (60g) self raising flour

• 1/2 tablespoon fresh mint leaves, finely shredded

• 1 tablespoon fresh parsley leaves, finely chopped

• sea salt and black pepper

• olive oil, for cooking

method

Preheat the oven to 180C fan oven.

Trim, wash then roughly grate the courgette into a sieve, placed over a bowl. Press out any excess water, through the sieve, using the back of a spoon. You want the courgette to be as dry as possible, this will help the fritters crisp up when you cook them. Add to a bowl and combine with the onion, egg and ricotta. Add the flour and mix until a good consistency, the batter needs to hold together so that you can shape it into fritters. Season with sea salt and black pepper and finish with the freshly chopped herbs.

Shape the mix into small fritters, this recipe should make 10-12. They can sit covered in the fridge for a few hours if you need to prep these ahead of time. To cook the fritters add a layer of olive oil to a frying pan: shallow fry the fritters on a medium heat for 2-3 minutes a side or until golden. Remove to a lined baking sheet and cook through in the oven for another 5 minutes.

Remove the fritters to some kitchen towel to drain off any excess oil and plate on a large platter, with wedges of fresh lemon, a scattering of fresh mint leaves and a bowl of my homemade tzatziki.

Homemade Tzatziki

The flavour or a homemade tzatziki versus shop bought is incomparable. Better still a homemade tzatziki takes minutes to bring together. It is such a useful dip to make in the warm Summer months: it can stand alone as an appetiser with crudités or warm flat breads. It works in wraps for lunch and also is a wonderful accompaniment to grilled fish, or meat.

ingredients

• 1/2 large cucumber

• 500g thick whole milk Greek Yogurt

• 1 clove garlic, finely minced

• 1 lemon, juice only

• 1/2 teaspoon sea salt

• freshly ground black pepper

• 2 tablespoons finely shredded mint leaves

Trim and wash the cucumber, grate on a box grater and set over a sieve/ bowl to drain of excess liquid.

To a bowl add the Greek Yogurt, minced garlic, lemon juice, sea salt, black pepper and finely shredded mint. Finally add the drained cucumber and combine. Taste and adjust accordingly.

Refrigerate until serving.

About Notes from my Kitchen

I write from my London kitchen table, sharing the food and flavours of my English childhood. My recipes are rooted in memory, seasonality, family and the quiet rituals of home. Much of my inspiration comes from my late mother and her much-loved Kentish garden, which she designed and built. It remains a place that shapes how I cook and think about food, and one I hope to share with you through the seasons. Revisiting her recipes and reimagining her cooking brings a sense of belonging.

Leave a comment

Share

This is the recipe I have truthfully been avoiding. It is one I made with my mother many times and I have been carrying an underlying fear that if I try to recreate it, I won’t remember it well enough, or do her teaching justice, or recall the memory of her making it. But at home, and in her garden, berries are everywhere. The hot weather has brought the earliest blackberries and mulberries, the fruit cage is heaving with redcurrants and blackcurrants and the raspberries are beginning to ripen, with hopefully many more to come before autumn arrives. Everywhere I look, it seems that Summer Pudding is calling me.

Subscribe now

When faced with a glut of summer fruit, jam is often the first port of call. In my mother’s kitchen it was her infamous Summer Pudding: a wonderfully traditional English dessert made by lining a pudding basin with stale bread, then filling it with a medley of summer berries. It is then set in the fridge over night before being turned out onto a platter. It takes around 1 kilogram of fruit to make a single pudding, it is one of the most delicious ways I know to make the most of the summer berry harvest.

Truthfully as fascinated as I was by mother’s processes in the kitchen, I wasn’t often called upon to help. But Summer Pudding was different, as making it required a production line and plenty of extra hands. My mother would set out to make at least ten puddings in one sitting: one for lunch that day and the remaining nine (or more) to freeze. She assembled each one in a lidded pudding basin, closing them with their lids, before squirrelling them within her vast chest freezer. Summer Puddings freeze beautifully and can be defrosted at a moment’s notice, ready to be served with ceremony. After a summer lunch, the pudding would appear at the table, surrounded by fresh berries and crowned with a final few. The remarkable thing about Summer Pudding is that the ingredients are wonderfully humble, yet the finished pudding, a dome of purple filled with berries, is nothing short of magnificent.

Summer Pudding was the centrepiece of so many of our family gatherings, sometimes served with meringues, sometimes with whipped cream, sometimes with vanilla ice cream. Occasionally with all of the aforementioned. My mother Marion would always use sliced white supermarket bread and I am quite sure there was no actual recipe but making these puddings would mean a hive of activity in Mum’s kitchen, her children encouraged to help dip the crustless lengths of bread in the berry liquid to line the Tupperware basins. Just enough to stain and soften the bread, not enough for it to go soggy. She would then skilfully piece the berry soaked bread back together to form a neat outer crust within the pudding basin, working expertly as if completing a jigsaw puzzle.

So now here I am at the starting line of Summer Pudding making. Somewhere it feels as though my mother is standing beside me, quietly watching this family tradition back in action. I hope that, deep down, I’ll instinctively remember how she made these puddings so effortlessly. This is my first attempt at making one on my own, and I am not without a little trepidation. But I have been reminding myself that family recipes, traditions, or memories should not become so weighty that I am afraid to revisit them. At their heart they were created with love and shared through countless happy moments. The skills of a home cook are honed through practice and recipes only survive if we continue to make them. The berries are here, the season is fleeting, and it would be a shame not to begin. I finally feel ready to make my mother’s recipe with my own deft touch.

If you are cooking along with me and would like to make a pudding that speaks of an English summer, this is the pudding I would place in the centre of your table.

Summer Pudding

The sweet, comforting taste of Summer Pudding is one of the great pleasures of an English Summer kitchen. Soft slices of bread soak up the juices of sweet berries creating a wonderful dessert. I have written this recipe in 12 simple steps and added photos to take you from the beginning ingredients to turning out the final pudding. The process is fairly easy but I think a visual guide helps.

You will need 1 kilogram of mixed summer berries. The most economical option is to use a bag of frozen mixed berries, which conveniently come in 1 kilogram bags in most UK supermarkets. As the fruit is cooked in a compote, there is no need for fresh berries. However, if your garden is overflowing with summer fruit this is a wonderful way to use them up. The mix of berries is important: ensure there are enough raspberries, blackberries and strawberries. You don’t want too many blackcurrants and redcurrants or the pudding will be too tart, the mix for the compote should be sweet and very fruity.

Summer pudding is best made the day before serving and left to set overnight in the fridge. The berry juices soak into the bread and the pudding gently compresses, allowing it to hold its shape when turned out. Serve with softly whipped cream, or a scoop of good vanilla ice cream.

Makes 1 Summer Pudding

ingredients

• 1 Kilogram mixed summer berries, raspberries, redcurrants, blackcurrants, strawberries and so on

• 60g caster sugar

• 14 slices (approx) medium sliced white bread

• 1 traditional ceramic pudding basin (17cm approx)

method

1. Start by emptying the fruit into a large pot, if the mix includes strawberries cut these into quarters, so that the fruit is evenly sized. Add the caster sugar and a splash of water, to help the berries begin to cook down. Place the pot over a medium heat and bring the berries up to a slow boil. Allow the fruit to cook and reduce into a compote, this should take around 5 minutes. Turn off the heat and set aside.

2. Take a sieve and separate the cooked fruit from the berry liquid. Pour the berry liquid into a shallow tray. This will be used to coat the bread slices.

3. Take the sliced white bread and carefully remove the crusts.

4. Using the pudding basin mark out the base of the bowl in a slice of bread and cut a round to size, this disc will be the top of the pudding.

5. Lightly dip the circular top made of bread in the berry liquid and place it in the bottom of the pudding basin.

6. For the sides of the pudding, repeat this process with all the crustless slices of white bread. Coat one side of the bread in the berry liquid for 1-2 seconds and then transfer to the basin bowl. Slightly overlap each piece of bread as you go, to fill the sides of the pudding basin. There should be no gaps between the slices of bread. You can cut pieces of bread to size to fill any gaps and press the bread together as you go. Continue until the basin is completely lined with the lightly soaked bread.

7. Next fill the bread lined pudding basin with the fruit compote. I like to add a layer of bread halfway to help support the final pudding.

8. Once the pudding is full to the top with compote make a lid for the pudding using the remaining slices of bread (I don’t soak these ones as they are on the base of the pudding and you won’t them to hold firm).

9. Place a clean plate onto of the pudding and some weights, I just use some tins.

10. Transfer to the fridge to set the pudding, ideally overnight but for a minimum of 6 hours. Reserve any of the berry syrup to serve with the pudding and store in the fridge.

11. When you are ready to serve the pudding remove from the fridge, remove the weights and plate. Run a spatula gently around the edge of the pudding to help loosen it from the bowl. Take a clean platter and place it on top of the basin, then turn the basin over in one movement and with it the pudding should transfer to the platter.

12. Spoon over any of the extra berry syrup and decorate the platter with some fresh berries.

About Notes from my Kitchen

I write from my London kitchen table, sharing the food and flavours of my English childhood. My recipes are rooted in memory, seasonality, family and the quiet rituals of home. Much of my inspiration comes from my late mother and her much-loved Kentish garden, which she designed and built. It remains a place that shapes how I cook and think about food, and one I hope to share with you through the seasons. Revisiting her recipes and reimagining her cooking brings a sense of belonging.

Leave a comment

Share

I am not sure I managed to successfully send this newsletter last Friday, my apologies. As I get to grips with Substack I find myself still learning its inner mechanisms…. So apologies for the late delivery here is a wonderful set of summer recipes that you should have received last Friday but better late than never.

Tearing off a warm piece of bread and dipping it into an olive oil is surely one of the simple pleasures of summer. The taste of holidays, warmer climates and long, slow meals outdoors; this year those warmer climates seem to have found us here in the UK too. For the past few weeks I have been making this wonderfully flavourful antipasti bread dipping oil and it has been a huge hit with my own family. I wanted to share it with you in the hope that it might bring a little sunshine to your table this July.

Our summer holidays have already begun, so we spent an afternoon making focaccia together, which I can thoroughly recommend as a wonderful way to keep children happily occupied. If baking bread feels like one step too far, buy a beautiful loaf from your local baker instead but don’t skip the bread dipping oil. It comes together in minutes, requires very little effort and transforms even the simplest loaf into something unmistakably summery.

Alongside this week's recipes, I've also put together my monthly edit for sunny days outdoors, whether you're planning a picnic in the park, a day at the beach or simply making the most of the warm weather. I've included some of my favourite finds, from practical picnic essentials and garden games to wine coolers and clever suncream applicators. You'll find everything collected together in my Amazon storefront, linked below.

Summer Tomato Focaccia

Focaccia is a good place to begin bread making as the dough is reassuringly forgiving and surprisingly straightforward to make. These warmer days mean the dough should rise easily: the first proof (1 hour) and the second proof (30 minutes). You can flavour the focaccia with herbs and seasonal toppings: I love pressing cherry tomatoes and rosemary into the dimpled surface before baking. The tomatoes burst open in the oven, bringing little pockets of sweetness that pair beautifully with flaky sea salt, woody rosemary and a good olive oil.

Makes 1 focaccia

ingredients

• 10g fine salt

• 500g strong white bread flour

• 5g powdered dried yeast

• 325ml warm water

• 1 tablespoon olive oil for the dough, and extra for finishing the focaccia

• 2-3 sprigs of fresh rosemary

• 100g (a handful of ) cherry tomatoes

method

To a large ceramic bowl add the fine salt, flour, yeast and warm water (careful to keep the salt and yeast separate as you add them to the bowl). Combine the ingredients until you have bought the dough together. Next add 1 tablespoon of olive oil and combine again. Tip the dough out onto a clean surface and knead for 10 minutes. The dough will transition from sticky, to smooth and stretchy (as the gluten develops). Shape the dough into a round.

Proof 1: take a clean ceramic bowl lightly oil with olive oil, add the dough and coat the dough itself with a little more olive oil. Cover with a plastic bag and leave for 1 hour in a warm place to double in size.

Proof 2: Tip the dough out again onto a work surface and shape into a rectangle. Place in a lightly oiled oven-proof baking tray, pushing the dough to the corners. (I would choose a large baking tray to stop the focaccia being too thick). Leave to rise for a second proof for around 30 minutes.

Meanwhile preheat the oven to the highest setting 220C fan oven + (depending on your oven).

The focaccia is ready to bake when the dough has puffed up again. Use the tips of your fingers to make indentations across the dough. Add the tomatoes (if using) and press into the surface of the dough, next sprigs of rosemary which I coat in a little olive oil to prevent burning, finally sea salt and a light drizzle of olive oil.

Bake for 10 minutes at the hotter temperature setting and then lower the temperature to 200C for a final 10 minutes of baking. Remove from the oven once golden and cooked through. Remove from the oven tray to a wooden board and serve warm.

Antipasti Bread Dipping Oil

This is a vibrant antipasti bread dipping oil, which is full of the flavours of summer. It is a relaxed, family-style dish, assembled on a large platter and placed in the centre of the table for everyone to share.

Begin with the finely chopped parsley, sun-dried tomatoes, chargrilled artichokes and olives. Pour over the best extra virgin olive oil you can find, then season with black pepper, dried oregano and a pinch of chilli flakes for a gentle warmth. Finish with a sweet balsamic vinegar and a generous scattering of finely grated Parmesan, which will melt into the oil and bring everything together. Serve alongside the warm focaccia and let everyone help themselves.

ingredients

• 2 tablespoons fresh parsley, finely chopped

• 1/4 cup sun-dried tomatoes, finely chopped

• 1/4 cup chargrilled artichokes, finely chopped

• 1/4 cup pitted olives, finely chopped

• 1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil

• 1-2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar

• freshly ground black pepper

• 1 teaspoon dried oregano

• 1 teaspoon dried chilli flakes

• 1/4 cup Parmesan, finely grated

method

Finely chop the parsley, sun-dried tomatoes, chargrilled artichokes and olives. Place in the centre of a large platter.

Pour over the best extra virgin olive oil you have and stir with a spoon to evenly distribute the ingredients over the platter. Drizzle with balsamic vinegar and then season with black pepper, dried oregano and chilli flakes.

Finish with finely grated Parmesan and serve.

The Beach Edit

For July and to celebrate summer I have put together an edit of some fun finds and buys for hot days. I have saved everything here on my Amazon store: Beach Day

From top left to bottom right:

• Luxe Beach Chair by Sunnylife

• Talking Tables Strong Large Tote Bag

• Dock & Bay Beach Towel, with travel bag

• Ray-Ban Women’s Sunglasses

• Stanley IceFlow 2.0 Tumbler with Flip Straw with Handle

• Sun Bum Original SPF 50 Sun Cream Lotion

• Salty the Shark Multi Float by Sunnylife

• Huski Wine and Bottle Cooler

• Beach Umbrella or Garden Parasol with Ground Drill 2m

Links are affiliate and I may earn a small commission, thank you for supporting Notes from my Kitchen.

About Notes from my Kitchen

I write from my London kitchen table, sharing the food and flavours of my English childhood. My recipes are rooted in memory, seasonality, family and the quiet rituals of home. Much of my inspiration comes from my late mother and her much-loved Kentish garden, which she designed and built. It remains a place that shapes how I cook and think about food, and one I hope to share with you through the seasons. Revisiting her recipes and reimagining her cooking brings a sense of belonging.

Leave a comment

Share

This week is for the Roast Chicken devotees, as my recipe series A Roast Chicken for Every Season comes full circle with its final chapter. Last autumn I set myself the challenge of creating a roast chicken recipe for every season, and this week I have arrived at summer with a beautiful roast chicken served with and a bright and zesty lemon herb dressing.

The comfort of a roast chicken is a weekly tradition in our home. It is delicious, but also practical; often stretching to two or three meals. Leftover chicken is useful for wraps, sandwiches and salads, while the carcass becomes stock for soups or perhaps a risotto. A simple roast chicken is never boring when cooked well and paired with the ingredients and flavours of the season. The beauty lies in how a few thoughtful changes to the accompanying vegetables, herbs, spices can make the same bird feel entirely different throughout the year.

There are also a variety of techniques to use: in Autumn I roasted the chicken whole, in Winter I spatchcocked the chicken by removing the back bone, in Spring I pot roasted the chicken in a casserole dish. Before we arrive at summer, let's take one last walk through the seasons. If you missed any of the earlier recipes, you can revisit them by clicking on the titles below.

1. Autumn Roast Chicken with Thyme, Apples and Shallots

   Here the chicken is roasted whole with savoury garlic and thyme, this is counterbalanced by sweet shallots and apples. The roasting juices are used as a base for a rich gravy, finished with cream to make a wonderfully indulgent accompaniment to the chicken. I recommend serving the chicken alongside buttery mashed potatoes because the combination of mashed potato and gravy is sublimely comforting.

2. In Winter the recipe was a fiery Winter Harissa Roast Chicken with Red Onions, served with oven baked saffron rice and yogurt. This recipe has the heat and hum of spice, bringing warmth and colour to break through Winter’s austerity. The oil in the harissa helps the skin to char during roasting, which adds so much flavour and texture. Spatchcocking the chicken reduces the cooking time and helps the chicken to cook evenly so it is a really useful technique when preparing a chicken for roasting.

3. In the Spring I made a Spring Pot Roast Chicken with Leeks, Fennel and Thyme. The technique of cooking the chicken in a large casserole pot (with a lid) allows the chicken to steam and become meltingly tender, it also creates a deeply flavoured and nourishing broth. I served this chicken with a dish of braised Spring vegetables: lettuce, peas and more leeks (this was loosely based on a classic petits pois à la française). I cooked this side dish whilst the chicken roasted in the oven, allowing me to assemble everything and bring it to the table piping hot.

Onto the finale my Summer Roast Chicken which is inspired by a wonderful roast chicken with a lemon herb dressing that my mother used to make in the Summer. It is a recipe that I want to recreate with my own take on her version. Alongside it I'm serving a couscous salad that has been with me since my earliest days of blogging and remains one of my favourite summer recipes. It works just as well at a barbecue or garden lunch as it does packed into lunchboxes the next day. Add grilled vegetables and crumbled feta or goat's cheese and it becomes a complete meal of its own to enjoy throughout the week.

Looking back on this series, it has challenged me to adapt a family favourite. Yes, every recipe begins with the same roast chicken but across four seasons they have become four completely different meals. It has been a reminder that cooking seasonally doesn’t always mean changing what we cook. Sometimes it simply means shifting with the seasons, embracing their ingredients and flavours and allowing a familiar dish to become exactly what you want to eat at that moment in the year.

Summer Roast Chicken

My Summer Roast Chicken is made by roasting the chicken whole, once the chicken is beautifully cooked and golden it is carved into pieces which are then arranged on a large serving platter. The chicken is then dressed with a light and fresh lemon and herb dressing, which sharpens all the savoury notes of the chicken.

I am serving the chicken with a light Summery Couscous Salad, also packed with herbs, more lemon and pomegranate seeds. This is a light and satisfying Summer lunch that is easy to scale up, if cooking for a larger crowd.

Serves 4-6

ingredients

• 1 whole organic chicken (1.5kg approx)

• sea salt

• olive oil

• 2 onions

• 1 bulb of garlic, cut in half

• 1 unwaxed lemon, cut in half

• generous handful of fresh thyme

for the dressing

• 2 tablespoons fresh parsley, finely chopped

• 2 tablespoons fresh chives, finely chopped

• 4 spring onions, trimmed and diced into thin rounds

• 75 ml olive oil

• 1 lemon, juice only

• sea salt

• black pepper

method

Preheat the oven to 190°C fan oven. Take the chicken out of the fridge for 20-30 minutes, to bring it up to room temperature. Meanwhile peel the onions and cut into large thick rounds (the chicken will rest on these) and prep the garlic by cutting the whole bulb in half.

Take a roasting tray and make a layer of the onion slices, drizzle with olive oil and season with sea salt. Next, season the chicken well on all sides and in the internal cavity: add the garlic halves, thyme and the lemon halves. Place the stuffed chicken on the layer of onions. Drizzle with olive oil and rub this into the skin, then scatter with a little more sea salt.

Roast the chicken in the oven for 1 hours and 20 minutes, or until the chicken is completely cooked. You can can remove the chicken from the oven half way through cooking time and baste it with the juices, then return it to the oven.

When the chicken is cooked remove it from the oven. Check the chicken at its thickest part (either at the thigh or leg) with a sharp knife, the juices should run clear. Remove the chicken from the roasting tray and place it on a carving board, cover with foil to rest it.

Whilst the chicken is resting prepare the dressing: in a bowl add the finely chopped parsley, chives and spring onions. Then add the olive oil and fresh lemon juice, season with sea salt and black pepper. Combine and taste. Adjust the seasoning and lemon juice as needed.

To serve, carve the chicken into 8-10 pieces, arrange the chicken pieces on a platter. Next spoon over the dressing generously; serve alongside the Summer Couscous Salad and enjoy.

Summer Couscous Salad

This salad will keep well stored in the fridge in an airtight container, it makes a great base for other meals throughout the week. Couscous is already cooked so you are just rehydrating it when adding boiling liquid the couscous will plump up and soften. I like to use good quality stock instead of water, to add wonderful flavour. I’m adding plenty of herbs, olive oil, lemon, black pepper and pomegranate seeds to bring all the summer flavours to the salad. To finish scatter with fragrant mint leaves.

Serves 6-10

ingredients

• 450ml good quality stock (chicken, or vegetable)

• 300g fine couscous

  For the best results: check the couscous’s packet instructions for the quantity of couscous: liquid and adjust the above accord to the couscous brand you are using

• 50ml extra virgin olive oil

• 1/2-1 lemon, juice only

  (depending on how strong you would like the lemon flavour

• 2 tablespoons fresh parsley, finely chopped

• 2 tablespoons fresh chives, finely chopped

• 4 spring onions, trimmed and diced into thin rounds

• 1/2 teaspoon sea salt

• freshly black pepper, to taste

• 200g pomegranate seeds

• mint leaves, to serve

Heat the stock in a pan until boiling. In a large ceramic bowl add the couscous and pour over the hot stock, cover with a tight fitting lid and rest for 10 minutes. The stock will be absorbed into the couscous, it will plump up and soften in the stock and its steam.

When ready remove the lid and with a fork lightly break up the couscous, until fluffy.

To assemble the salad add the finely chopped herbs, spring onions, lemon juice, olive oil and pomegranate seeds. Season with sea salt and freshly ground black pepper. Combine well with two spoons making sure all the ingredients are evenly distributed throughout the couscous. Taste and adjust the seasoning.

To serve add the couscous salad to a large bowl and enjoy.

About Notes from my Kitchen

I write from my London kitchen table, sharing the food and flavours of my English childhood. My recipes are rooted in memory, seasonality, family and the quiet rituals of home. Much of my inspiration comes from my late mother and her much-loved Kentish garden, which she designed and built. It remains a place that shapes how I cook and think about food, and one I hope to share with you through the seasons. Revisiting her recipes and reimagining her cooking brings a sense of belonging.

Leave a comment

Share

Read more

As we make our way through the chapter for Summer we can finally open the doors to eating outside and some much anticipated sunshine. After the bright and fresh and dishes of spring, summer’s produce is abundant, colourful and sun ripened.

This week I have edited my top 10 recipes for summer, some of these recipes we have already cooked together. For all the new followers there are some great recipes to discover: simple, seasonal and suited to summer’s celebrations.

1. Chilled Cucumber Soup: When temperatures soar in the Summer this is one of the chilled soups I rely on heavily. It is thickened with Greek yogurt and flavoured with herbs and lime juice, which makes it wonderfully cooling and light. It also works beautifully as a starter for a long Summer meal in the garden. Recipe

Read more

Read more

Read more

Read more

Read more

Read more

Read more

Read more

Read more

Read more