Rosie Lovell - Spooning with Rosie

a big knob of butter

1 large onion

150g Arborio rice

500ml hot Marigold Swiss vegetable bouillon powder stock

1 large glass of wine (about 200ml)

1 tablespoon olive oil

6 roundels of morcilla or black pudding

lots of freshly grated Parmesan

When it comes to cooking the risotto, remember that all the additions to a risotto are salty, so beware of seasoning until the end. While half the butter is melting in a wide flat pan on a very low heat, peel and very finely dice the onion and add to the pan. The onion will gradually appear soft and translucent, but not browned (about 5 minutes or so). Add the rice and mix in, then cook for about a minute, to seal it. When it is just beginning to brown, add a ladleful of hot stock and stir until the rice has absorbed it. Keep adding stock, bit by bit, stirring all the time and giving it lots of love and affection. Add the wine, again gradually, allowing the alcohol to bubble off and evaporate.

Once the rice has absorbed most of the stock, and tastes almost cooked, heat some oil in another frying pan, so that it is really hot. Add the roundels of morcilla and crisp them up. This will take a minute or so on each side. The risotto takes about 20 minutes of nurturing before it is nutty but cooked. Like al dente pasta. When you feel that the texture is both shiny and creamy, turn the heat off and melt in the final bit of butter, and the Parmesan, almost beating it. This, according to Locatelli’s bible, is the mantecatura , where it all comes together. Place the lid on the risotto pan and let it sit for a few moments. Heap the risotto on to a plate, with the morcilla pieces balancing on top.

For 2 with leftovers

The quick rubbing and drawing together. The rolling, chilling, blind baking and goldening of pastry. It’s a tactile thing. And finally, filling the case and seeing the results prosper. As a child I couldn’t bear the feeling of melting butter between my fingers, rather like sand between my toes. I’m a little more worldly now, and love getting my hands stuck in. Nothing beats homemade pastry (though I have been known to cheat and buy shop-bought, if really short of time). This tart prompted a proposal from an old boyfriend of mine, Pat, so it must be good, surely?

Once you have mastered the basics, your tart options are endless. Broccoli and Saint-Agur; Mrs Kirkham’s Lancashire and apple; fennel and Pecorino; pea, mint and feta; spinach, black olive and anchovy; wild porcini and Gruyère and so on. All you need to know is what marries well, which comes with practice and confidence.

Serve this tart with a well-dressed green salad, and homemade soda bread (or a good shop-bought one, if you haven’t the time). A simple but perfectly sating meal for two, which would be especially ideal if you’ve got a vegetarian on board too. The tart is a generous one: I use a 25cm diameter fluted flan tin that feeds four. That way you’ll have something tasty for leftovers.

200g plain flour, plus a little more for rolling

110g unsalted butter

Maldon sea salt

You can make the pastry separately from the tart, even a day before. Fill a generous mixing bowl with the flour, diced butter and a pinch of salt. With cold hands quickly rub it between your fingers. The lighter your touch, the more delicate your pastry will be. If done with finesse you will have superb results. When the butter is consistently combined with the flour, drizzle small amounts of cold water over it, bit by bit, and with a knife draw the breadcrumb-like mound together into a moist ball. On a floured surface, roll out the pastry to fit your tin. Push it in all directions, so that it makes a circle a little bigger than the tin. Roll this up on to the rolling pin, and then unravel it gently over the tin, tucking the pastry into the edges and pressing firmly into the crinkles. Finally roll the rolling pin over the top of the tin to perfectly trim the sides to the correct height. Turn the oven to 250°C/Gas 9 or as high as it will go, but put the pastry-filled flan tin into the freezer. After 20 minutes, remove the flan tin, line it with greaseproof paper, and fill with baking beans, or dried chickpeas. Blind bake for 10 minutes. For the best pastry, remove the paper and beans and return to the oven for a further few minutes to dry out the base of the case. No one likes soggy pastry.

750g cherry tomatoes

2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar

1 teaspoon caster sugar

a little olive oil

4 medium free-range eggs

284ml double cream

freshly ground black pepper

Maldon sea salt

1 x Petit Pont I’Evêque or 250g Pont I’Evêque

2 teaspoons dried or fresh thyme

To make the tart, preheat the oven to 180°C/Gas 4. Slice the cherry tomatoes in half and place cut side upwards in a roasting tin lined with greaseproof paper. Drizzle over the balsamic vinegar and sprinkle with sugar and a little olive oil too. Place them in the oven and allow them to dry out – they’ll take on a rich, sweet flavour. They should take about an hour. Meanwhile, whisk up the eggs and cream in a measuring jug, with seasoning. Turn the tomatoes out into the baked pastry case and pat them down to make a dense rich red layer. Pour the eggy custard on top of the tomato and place in the oven for 10 minutes. Take out of the oven. Slice the Pont l’Evêque into strips and place on top of the nearly set and firming custard. Shred over the thyme, and return to the oven. Bake for a further half an hour, or until the cheese is blistering and turning golden and the tart is entirely set.

For 2

Sometimes a girl’s got to give. A few years ago I was forced to go to extreme lengths to steal an evening with my then boyfriend. It was near impossible to find time when he wasn’t DJ-ing, going to a gig, or sorting out his sock drawer. So I lovingly took this whole meal on the P4 bus, with each individual bit prepared in little pots so that I could create it in situ. That’s love, or is it dementia?

Saucy and juicy, the seafood flavours are wonderful mopped up with the yolky yellow tortilla. I like sucking the sweet garlicky coating off the prawns, then shelling them and devouring the tender meaty chunks within. The chilli will have your mouth wonderfully tingling too. And the squid has good smoky paprika as the resounding Moorish ingredient. This is something I only discovered when I opened my little shop in Brixton market. There are many varieties of this magic dust, and it usually comes in beautiful little tins. I use a hot Santo Domingo, which is imported by Brindisa and will bring a smouldering heat to almost any meal. These smells remind me of Marrakesh and Barcelona all in one, full of mystery and hot reds.

The way you manage this meal is up to you: the prawns could be served as a starter or all together with the squid and tortilla. And if you don’t want to do both the squid and the prawn dishes, double up the quantities of one and serve it with a simple green salad. Though if you are using this for wooing, you might just check that your lover doesn’t have an aversion to seafood. It is a bit like Marmite: you either love it, or you hate it.

1 medium free-range egg

3 medium free-range egg yolks

500g new potatoes

lots of olive oil or butter

100g balsamic onions (or pancetta)

Maldon sea salt

freshly ground black pepper

The essence of a tortilla is patience. First, whisk up the egg and yolks in a mixing jug and set this aside. With the fine flat blade of a mandolin, finely slice the potatoes. Heat lots of olive oil or butter on a low heat in a good non-stick frying pan. This is so that the potatoes (with their high starch content) don’t stick to the bottom of the pan. Add the potatoes and attentively turn them, while also allowing them to become golden in parts. When they are beginning to look transparent, after about 20 minutes, use a flat-ended wooden spoon to slightly mash them up. In doing so, the potato pieces will be able to lie side by side to make a compact cake like a jigsaw puzzle.