Monday, 16 July 2012

Summer and the market (super or not?)


I love the farmers' markets which I attend.  If you are lucky enough to have a well run market in your area, please, please use it.  I’m no fan of food elitism and it’s sad to say that, on occasions, some markets did become the preserve of expensive foodstuffs not within the budget of the average family or became dominated by the kind of produce which the majority of the population would not want to consume on a regular basis.  But, done right, markets fulfil an essential role in bringing vitality back to parts of our towns (or villages) which have been stripped of so many food shopping outlets.  Markets bring people together (traders and shoppers), they bring out the curious, the ‘regulars’, those who want to linger over their food acquisitions, those who love to discuss what they’re buying. A good market can provide locally grown and produced foods which are fresh, (not cool stored for months on end) maybe a little bit different and provided by people who know a lot about what’s being sold now and what’s going to be available next week. 
Being an everyday meal provider, I buy food on a very regular basis and have to say frequently use my local supermarket for day to day needs. I’m frequently busy, I’m sometimes stressed and tired and want an easily available option for my food supplies.  But I’ve learned that this does come at a price if you care about where and how your food ends up on those shelves.  A number of recent issues have made me think even more carefully about my food options.  To begin with, I have become increasingly aware of the plight of our home dairy farmers.  The recent protest in London highlighted the fact that dairy farmers are having to sell their milk at increasingly unsustainable prices to regional distributors (who in turn supply the milk to our supermarkets). The ever increasing push for cheaper food has an insidious side effect which we can’t hide from.  When prices come down, somebody somewhere has to bear the cost, and you can bet it’s not the supemarkets.  When prices are slashed, the cost is usually passed onto the producer.  A food producer (be it a local farmer or manufacturer) is asked to provide the exact same quality of food item (uniformly shaped, sized, weight) as usual, but at a reduced price.  If you happen to be a large manufacturer you can maybe swallow the cost of this but for producers operating on increasingly slim margins, it’s a different matter.  If you have to sell your produce (in this instance milk) at a lower and lower price then what are you to do? A friend of mine has lived on subsistence level with their dairy herd for several years now it’s the income from their small campsite which makes the difference. They are now facing the possibility of culling some, or all, of their herd because they may not be able to afford to feed the cattle through the winter.   There’s something very wrong when supermarkets set prices and yet many members of the public testify that they would happily pay a few pence more for their milk if it meant supporting the home dairy business. It does take an effort for the public to make their voice heard but  we must make that effort.  The difference when buying at a local market is that you are buying from the person who produces and has put their price at a level which works for them and hopefully works for you as a customer. 
As a producer I was bowled over with excitement when I spotted a stall setting up in its spot directly opposite me at Cirencester last Saturday.  Bottles of milk from Holmleigh Dairy were spread out and in the centre some vibrant yellow packages which turned out to be THE most fantastic butter I’ve ever tasted.  Having been utterly amazed to learn that there is only one nationally available brand of butter which makes a point of using British sourced milk (currently advertised by Mr John Lydon), the rest is from the EU or New Zealand, or God knows where.  Here was a totally local butter which tasted fantastic and was on sale at a totally affordable price.  I hope I’ll soon be buying it to use in my chocolate brownies.   So, as my brownie recipe is absolute take-to-the-grave secret, here are my two favourite ways to each such fabulous butter:

Sliced fresh soda bread spread with butter. Eaten with olives and air dried ham.

I can eat a staggeringly large amount of this but that’s no bad thing.

Very fresh new potatoes.

Rub off the skins (the mark of a good, fresh potato) and boil until just tender.  Drain.  Add a generous knob of butter, chopped up chives (or spring onions), a generous grind of black pepper and a sprinkle of sea salt.

The second issue which bugs me and can be very depressing is to go into my local supermarket and look at the fresh fruit section.  Recently I saw a sign advertised English Strawberries and Pontiac Cherries.  The implication being (as we are in the middle of the English cherry season) that the cherries were also English; they were not.  Very close inspection of the packaging revealed that they were from Spain.  Mad.  How can a supermarket located about an hour or so drive of cherry growers, sell fruit from overseas?  Not only that, but how cynical to hide it with the English fruit.  I sought out a member of the ‘Fruit and Veg Team’.  I’m told that they have no control over what produce comes into the shop or where it comes from.  They aren’t mass produced in a controlled enough environment on a big enough scale to secure a big enough profit and national availability. Next time it’s the season for any of our nationally traditional foods (asparagus, cherries, strawberries) please check the country of origin.  Produce is there because supermarkets say the customer expects it.  You are the customer, what do you expect? 
These are all reasons why I love my local market and the local shops which make an effort to source good stuff.  I will probably always need to shop at supermarkets but there are certain things I will not buy there, namely fruit, vegetables and meat because, quite frankly, I do not trust them as far as I can throw their Chief Executives.
As a market trader I am no farmer.  I class myself as a producer and many markets name themselves to reflect this fact.  Everyone present is a producer who makes what they sell (or has a very close connection with the production process).  I love meeting up with fellow producers as much as my customers.  They’re an entertaining crowd who will laugh, chat, sometimes grumble and sometimes reveal unexpected talents and interests.  I happened to be next to a butcher at Cirencester recently and, having eyed up the lovely farmhouse sausages decided that this would be on offer for that evening’s supper with friends.  He would normally have been selling pack after pack of sausages for barbecues by the hundred; but this is the British summer of 2012 and barely a pack of charcoal has been bought.  We have reverted back to winter food.  I told him it was, without doubt, a sausage and mash sort of day and he agreed.

Sausages in cider sauce

Finely slice a couple of onions in a tablespoon of neutral flavoured oil.  Gently sauté until softened and slightly coloured. 
In a separate pan brown enough sausages for your needs and set aside. 
To make the sauce, add about half a pint of cider to the onion mixture.  Cook through and, as it thickens add water a couple of chicken stock cubes and a dollop of wholegrain mustard.  You need to aim for the consistency of double cream.
Let the sauce cook gently to cook gently. 
Finely slice half a dozen rashers of smoked streaky bacon, sauté in a pan until starting to brown then add to the cider sauce.  Season to taste.
Add the browned sausages and gently cook to ensure the sausages are cooked through (or transfer to oven if the pan is ovenproof).
Serve with mashed or new potatoes and vegetables of choice

Finally, I bought some fabulous cherries.  I did plumb the depths of my mind and cook books for  the ideal dessert before remembering that inalienable truth; the best way to eat delicious fresh fruit is just how it grew.  So we shared a bowl of fresh cherries and a tub of vanilla ice cream for those who really felt that they needed an additional adornment (there weren’t many in that camp).

Monday, 25 June 2012

Is it Summer yet? (shields eyes from the light)



It has been far too long since I’ve written anything and I’ve missed it. There are several reasons for this.  Firstly, I think the recent lack of seasonal variation in weather led to a very repetitive cycle of food; a constant stream of cold wet weather meant an equally repetitive stream of  hot steaming food and, in all honestly, there are only so many times you can mention hot stew or chicken pie or other tummy lining treats.  The other main reason has been an undeniable lack of time.  A full throttle surge into the maelstrom of brownie baking and selling has meant little time for anything other than opening and shutting the oven door and packing and unpacking the car (more brownie tales another time).  For now this blog remains my own personal antidote to chocolate.  

Perfect desserts
I’ve always had a theory that the perfect dessert should contain at least one (preferably more) of the following indulgent elements: cream, citrus flavour, chocolate and (in moderation only) fruit.  Today, despite the hayfever, (a horrible assault on the senses which reduces me to a snivelling wreck,  permanently leaking fluids from orifices above the neck).  Anyway, despite this, it is now officially Summer!  For me, the main indicator of this seasonal change are the elderflowers blooming out along the hedgerows.  Summer food is now filling my mind.  So here we go; an entire meal provided for; the drinks, the main course and a dessert.  Ok so there’s no starter but on a sunny day what else do you need other than a good dose of vitamin D from that big golden globe in the sky.

Elderflower Fizz
 I’m bizarrely grateful for the recent awful weather in so far as it has delayed the blossoming of elderflower thus giving me time to go through those early thought processes (in May) about doing something productive with the blossoms until finally getting around to doing something about it (June). Usually the whole window of opportunity would have been and gone before I picked anything flowery and stocking up with any bottles.  I smiled when I looked up a variety of recipes for Elderflower Champagne (Pah to the French and their appellation control-freakery guarding of the term ‘Champagne’).  Instead of shelling out on relatively expensive glass bottles, at least one recommended heading down to a certain supermarket for their 17p 2 litre bottles of water. Use the water as you wish (even pouring it down the sink for goodness sake) then use the empty bottles for filling with the potentially bubbly brew.  Incidentally these plastic bottles work well because they display the very tell tale evidence of increasing gas build up (and potential explosiveness!) by their swelling girths.  Should this happen simply release a bit of the pressure and feel excited about the changes going on inside. Leave for about two weeks then taste.  Can’t tell you if mine’s good or bad because it’s not ready yet but it has got a bit of fizz going on when I release the top (high excitement!).
I use:    
7 or so large elderflower heads
One gallon of water
Two sliced lemons
Two tablespoons of white wine vinegar
Pound and a half of sugar.

Heat up the water, add sugar, dissolve then leave to cool (heating is not essential but I think it makes for faster dissolving).  Remove most of the green stalks from the elderflowers and place in a clean bucket then pour over the water.  Add vinegar and lemon slices.  Cover with a tea towel and leave for 24 hours.  After this time pour carefully through a seive into the empty bottles leaving a little space at the top.  I’m told that the aim is to bottle the liquid before all the fermenting has taken place.  The natural yeasts on the elderflowers continue to work with the sugary water to produce an alcohol producing reaction (and thus fizz) in the bottle.  Recipes vary greatly (some adding yeast) but this is a very simple recipe with unpredictable results!  Ten days to a fortnight is long enough to leave before drinking.

Pizza

I‘d forgotten what a lovely thing a homemade pizza is.  On the day I made this it was the garlic I was initially craving.  This is another member of the 'dead easy’ group of recipes.
The best pizza I ever ate was in a very dark Italian restaurant in Newcastle.  It was a very basic Marguerita but made all the more unctuous by the final drizzle of garlicky olive oil whilst it was still piping hot.  It was so cheap but so delicious and would literally spill out over the edge of the plate it was so huge and pleasingly non-uniform in shape. 

1.       Make a batch of dough.  Bread flour in bowl (round about a kilo) add a sachet of yeast and enough water to make a pliable dough. If it gets too wet add more flour. We’re not talking critical measures here Robert Bertinet, don’t get your knickers in a twist; it’s pizza dough not a fabulous loaf. Knead it around for a bit then cover with a tea towel and leave to rise to roughly double the volume.
2.      Depending on size of pizza required, break off pieces and roll out to a thin depth to form base.  Place the base onto a large enough baking tray.
3.      Toppings of choice.  My current favourite is a tomato sauce base topped, covered with grated cheddar, torn up oieces of  mozzarella and chopped up feta cheese, rocket leaves , torn up basil leaves and cherry tomato halves. 
4.      Drizzle garlic infused oil over the lot.  Don’t bother buying it just warm some oil in a pan with a crushed clove of garlic.  It’s ready when it smells nice.
5.      Bake in a hot oven (I turn mine up as hot as it will go). Bake for about ten minutes then check regularly.  You’re aiming for a puffed crust edge, nicely, but only slightly, browned. Toppings should be nicely melted and looked cooked (ie, the very edge of browning, any longer and they’d look like they’d burn).
6.       Eat, eat, eat! Share with any Italians you know; wax lyrical about your mamma and offer to share the recipe if they’d like it.

Key Lime Pie so ridiculously simple you’ll know there’s a God.

I don’t know why I got an urge for Key Lime Pie recently but, as with so many ideas, it came totally out of the blue.  Maybe it was because my home menus had been so haphazard.  I’ve had little time to think about meals in a considered way and had become a frequent follower of the school of last minute panic cooking; ie, where are you oven chips, fish or pasta?  Actually making a proper dessert was a major achievement and perhaps a reflection of the fact that I was slowly getting back on top of life.  It satisfyingly ticks the right boxes as far as my dessert criteria is concerned, ie, it’s creamy and citrusy. The lack of chocolate is, for now, a welcome antidote to baking my own body weight in brownies most days.  What better way to make use of FIVE ingredients? Fabulous recipe is below.

One large pot of cream
One small tin of condensed milk (397g)
Eight limes
Packet of digestive biscuits
About a third of a pack of butter

Take a loose bottom cake tin about 23cm wide or thereabouts.  It doesn’t matter too much but don’t make it much smaller as you’ll have too much mixture to fill it (this would be no great trauma as all you’d have to do is sit in front of the telly and lick out the bowl).

Pulverise three quarters of the packet of biscuits in a food processor. Eat the rest at your leisure.
Melt butter in a pan and mix with biscuits.
Smear some butter on base of cake tin then press the biscuit mixture to a depth of about half a centimeter.

Using the fine side of a cheese grater grate the zest off the limes.  This does take a bit of time but really is the most arduous part of the recipe so don’t moan. Pour the cream and condensed milk into a large mixing bowl then add the zest.  Get your electric mixer and beat for a few minutes until the mixture gets good and very thick. 
Squeeze the juice from the limes and mix into the cream mixture using a spatula.
Spoon it all on top of the biscuit base and chill for an hour or so.

Add any chefy touches are required (ie, top with fruit) or eat just as it is.  Absolutely creamy citrus gorgeousness.

Thursday, 26 January 2012

Chinese New Year resolve!

We’ve just passed Chinese New Year so a second Happy New Year to you!  Like so many people I made resolutions and am struggling to stick with them.  They aren’t anything particularly exciting and mainly go along the lines of eating more healthily, drinking less alcohol, exercising more and getting further than reading the plot summary of interesting looking books. Yes, I’m trying and, in a hesitant fashion, I’m succeeding.  The problem is that just as I'm starting to work on these resolutions, the season tends to get greyer and colder.  Three weeks in and I hope I can be forgiven for starting to feel a creeping sense of despondency, will it always be this hard? Am I making any progress?  I find that the hardest thing is trying to boost my energy in order to give myself the resolve to keep on track.  I must admit that completing my tax return on time did give me a relief filled boost but that was a pretty short lived high.
When I realised that it was Chinese New year I did get a sense of it being the opportunity for a second ‘fresh start’. It’s all immaterial really, any day can warrant a fresh start but there’s something about an ‘official’ beginning which gets me­­­­­ motivated.  There are a couple of new things on my horizon to feel encouraged by, most immediately will be starting to attend a couple of my local farmers markets.  This is exciting because, for the first time, I’ll be seeing my customers across a market stall rather than via the internet.  I’m happy but a little bit scared because it’s a very new experience. That in itself is the perfect impetus to adopt a new resolution; stepping out of my comfort zone when I can.  For me, that’s a hard thing to do and has probably been the single biggest challenge since becoming self employed a little over a year ago. I’ve moved from the security of working for somebody else to having only me to answer to. In my naivety I thought it would be all about working hard at what I’m good at and reaping the rewards. I hadn’t banked on the fact that I had to become good at things I’d never even done before.  I’ve learned quite a lot over time, especially about talking to people to whom I would previously have worried about sounding like a complete idiot, now I take my idiot status for granted and just get on with it.  The need to relentlessly plug away at things in order to succeed is a lesson well learned.  I’ve realised that nothing happens just because you deserve it.  Chinese New Year has come at a time when I’m finally starting to get a clearer idea of the road ahead.
I love Chinese food and particularly like this recipe because it tastes great, makes me feel virtuously healthy and fresh and appeals to the part of me which loves food in edible packages!  Every culture has them; be it pasta, potato or pastry based. Wantons are wonderful, flexible little packages of tasty flavours and very easy. The wrappers are usually in the freezer section of Asian supermarkets.  This recipe captures the flavours of a Chinese wanton but there’s no reason to stick with that.  The simple broth is wonderfully invigorating, especially when you add the zingy punch of chilli and ginger and the fragrance of fresh herbs.    It’s perfect New Year kick start fuel.
This particular recipe appears on www.allrecipes.com, an American site (which does have a British equivalent).
Ingredients
1/2 lb/200g boneless pork loin, coarsely chopped
2 oz/50g defrosted small prawns, finely chopped
1 teaspoon brown sugar
1 tablespoon Chinese rice wine
1 tablespoon light soy sauce
1 teaspoon finely chopped spring onion
1 teaspoon of fresh ginger root
Wonton wrappers (about 25)
Chicken stock (quantity to suit the amount of soup you want to make)
Finely chopped spring onion


In a large bowl, combine pork, shrimp, sugar, wine, soy sauce, 1 teaspoon chopped spring green onion and ginger. Blend well, and let stand for 25 to 30 minutes.
Place about one teaspoon of the filling at the center of each wonton skin. Moisten all 4 edges of wonton wrapper with water, then pull the top corner down to the bottom, folding the wrapper over the filling to make a triangle. Press edges firmly to make a seal making sure you don’t leave any air inside the parcel. Bring left and right corners together above the filling. Overlap the tips of these corners, moisten with water and press together. Continue until all wrappers are used.

FOR SOUP
Bring the chicken stock to a rolling boil. Drop wontons in, and cook for 5 minutes.

I like to add flavourings such as chopped chilli, ginger and garlic to the broth and then sprinkle on a little sliced spring onion (or chives) and fresh coriander before serving.

The alternative (and most frequently seen) way to assemble wantons is to place the filling in the centre of the square wrapper before scrunching up the edges to form a pouch.  Chinese cooks tend to steam their wantons before serving and you can also deep fry them and serve with a dipping sauce.  

Tuesday, 10 January 2012

Conscience salving fish and chips with homemade tartar sauce


I am awake at the ungodly hour of 3am following a lurch from blissful sleep to a state of high alert. Fortunately this isn’t the result of some awful household crisis but rather a vague but strong recollection that there was something which I really should have done before going to bed.
I usually avoid any sort of meaningful activity during the hour or so before going to sleep; it’s the time when my brain’s shutting down, I’m not worthy of any sort of conversation and I’ve probably put the car keys in the fridge.  Yesterday morning I emptied out the contents of my breadbin (a week’s worth of leftover crusts and slightly stale slices) and, not being one for waste, decided to put them into the cooler of my ovens to slowly dry out enough to be turned into breadcrumbs. I intended to take them out that evening but, it not being the most involved of activities, I’d understandably forgotten all about them.  God alone knows what my neurons are up to but for some reason I’m suddenly awake, remembering and investigating the oven with an opportune cup of tea.
I hate throwing food away and the remains of loaves are a particular obsession of mine.  After consuming a seemingly gargantuan amount of bread during the week the remaining dried crusts usually fester unwanted in the breadbin. At this time of year they’re usually accompanied by various half eaten packs of crackers and the occasional digestive biscuit.  When these leftovers begin to outweigh the fresh items they’re put in the oven to dry out before a quick blitz in the food processor turns them into perfect rough, crunchy breadcrumbs. They are then stashed away in a jar ready for use, usually when I get the urge to make fish and chips.
To digress slightly, the cooler oven I mentioned earlier forms part of my aged oil fired range (I must stress we are definitely not talking posh aga here). It comprises two ovens, one hot, one approximately half that temperature. The range ticks over constantly and has been the main source of heat and cooking in my kitchen for quite a few years.  It does have a tendency to behave ‘independently’ which, if I were a character in a country based TV sit-com, would be charming and endearing, but I’m not and it isn’t! I’d always wanted one and, at a time when I was stony broke, it was bought for a song off ebay.  Over the years I feel we’ve got to know each other well but It has been a feat of Heath Robinson style ingenuity to achieve anything like accurate temperatures; I’m amazed that I’ve been able to feed a anybody at all let alone run a business with it. Consequently I was a very happy woman when I finally bit the bullet and took possession of a fabulous new (and controllable!) oven just before Christmas.   I’m still at the stage when I occasionally stroke it as I walk past and I frequently scrutinise it for spillages.  It’s a shiny beacon of certainty in my otherwise erratic kitchen.
Back to the food.
In a continued effort to provide a version of fast food without the hassle of a drive, here is my adaptation of fish and chips.  It’s conscience salving from the point of view that the chips are baked using only a very small amount of oil.  The fish can also be baked but I have to admit to liking the flavour of the quickly fried crumb coating.   I suppose that baking the items in the oven should mean that you can safely award yourself the pleasure of an indulgently rich tartar style sauce but personally I don’t need an excuse.
Conscience salving fish and chips with homemade tartar sauce.
Fillets of white fish (Coley is fabulous; far, far cheaper than cod or haddock).
Flour (just enough to toss the fish fillets in)
Egg
Lemon
Potatoes (Maris Piper or King Edwards are great varieties)
Mayonnaise
Crème  fraiche
Gherkins
Capers
Cooking oil
Dill (optional)

Fish.
Remove any skin and cut the fillets into fish finger size lengths, size is not critical but it’ll cook quicker if the pieces aren’t too big. Have ready a plate of plain flour (seasoned with salt and pepper, a bowl containing one beaten egg and finally a plate of breadcrumbs.  Take each piece of fish, toss it in the flour, dip and thoroughly coat in the beaten egg, then finally roll it in the breadcrumbs  The flour may seem unnecessary but don’t leave it out, it does help the egg adhere to the fish and seems to result in a better final texture.

Heat just under a centimetre of cooking oil in a frying pan. Test it by frying a small piece of bread, when it gently sizzles the oil is ready.  Fry a few pieces of fish at a time until golden brown on each side. Remove and keep warm in the oven whilst frying the rest. Break open a piece of fish if you want to check it’s cooked through. Alternatively you can avoid frying altogether by lightly oiling an oven tray, placing the fish onto it and baking in oven.  Turn after about 10 minutes. Test five minutes later to see if it’s cooked through.  Leave in longer if not.

Chunky chips
Peel as many potatoes as required.  Cut lengthways into four (more if the potatoes are really big).  Toss in just enough oil to coat (a tablespoon will probably be plenty).  Arrange on a baking tray, cut sides uppermost and put into a very hot oven for about half an hour or as long as it takes for the chips to deepen in colour and slightly char along the edges.  They will have a lovely, non-greasy crispness but will be fluffy in the centre.

A variation on tartar sauce
­­­­­­­­­­­Mix crème fraiche and mayonnaise in equal quantities (less or more of one depending on your personal taste).  Slice a gherkin lengthways then across into small dice.  Roughly chop a few caper and add both to the sauce.  I usually add a squeeze of lemon and finally chopped dill but use whichever flavours you like, a little tarragon works well with fish.

Add peas (mushy or otherwise) if you wish but for me a squeeze of lemon over the fish and a generous sprinkle of sea salt over everything is ultimate heaven.

I must just add one brief footnote to all this talk of technical marvelry.  Beautiful though my new oven is I can’t put my dressing gown on top of it and gently warm it through whilst I remove the said breadcrumbs and make that cup of tea.  Comfort is everything so the range stays.
Right, back to bed.

Thursday, 5 January 2012

Something for the weekend! Spicy chicken wings.


Spicy baked chicken wings
I love an absolute bargain basement ingredient and chicken wings are a prime example.

I have to admit to having mixed feelings about this product.  Nine times out of ten I would far prefer to buy a whole bird and do what I can with the various bits; it's good value and stretches the brain and the fridge contents. It also feels less wasteful of the original bird. One chicken = three meals (casserole thighs and legs, stir fry the breasts with vegetables and make soup with anything left).  Sometimes I have to admit that I do make an exception.  My lovely local butcher in Winchcombe (quick plug for Browns! http://www.brownsbutchers-winchcombe.co.uk/) always comes up trumps.  If you have a good butcher in the area make friends with them (by good I mean a butcher who doesn't just sell ready shrink wrapped cuts).  Go in frequently and ask their advice.  Don't be afraid to ask what's cheap and what you can do with it. Believe me, they want your business and definitely want you to come back.  If you can afford prime meat fine but there's plenty of other stuff available. At least I know that the butchers have used the rest of the bird to sell as other products (boned, skinned breasts, whole legs and carcasses to the restaurants for stock).

Chicken wings are fabulously cheap and tasty and make brilliant snack food.  I've just finished a mammoth sort out of my freezer and found a bumper pile which I bought before Christmas. Now defrosted I've rubbed them with a whole load of spices before putting them into my fridge until the weekend. Over the next few days they will absorb the various spicy flavours, will be cooked and eaten from a shared from a large platter whilst I put my feet up in front of a film.

To my large bowl of wings I added:

3 dessert spoons of Harissa powder
3 dessert spoons of dried mint
2 spoons of Cayenne
2 spoons of Cumin
2 spoons of Ginger
1 teaspoon of allspice

It's an entirely personal and can be added to or removed at will.  There's definitely scope to up the heat with extra chilli or Cayenne and quantities will obviously vary depending on how many wings you are preparing.  When you are ready to cook the wings tip them into a roasting tin to which you've added about a tablespoon of oil and bake in a hot oven for about 45 minutes or longer (depending on how crispy you want them).  I usually shake over more of the spices and you can add chilli sauce before or after baking.  If you want your wings sticky and sweet then toss them in some honey before cooking.  (If so, put a sheet of foil under the wings, it'll stop the honey burning onto the roasting tin). 

This is THE most fantastic party food (as long as your guests are good at putting the bones into a bowl rather than hiding them under the cushions of your sofa).  

Serve with salad if you like, a spicy vinaigrette (add chives or herb of preference) or, if you prefer a cooler alternative, the easiest yogurt dip ever:

Easiest yoghurt dip in the world

This is a super simple raita style dip. It's a brilliant cool accompaniment to pretty much any spicy food.

Tub of natural yoghurt.
Couple of spoon fulls of mint sauce.

Stir together until the yoghurt is sufficiently minty and you like the flavour.

Roll on Saturday!