Sunday 30 December 2012

Caramelised Onion Cheese Toastie



2012. Twenty Twelve. Two thousand and twelve (no one says that, it’s so unbrandable).

It’s been a year, hasn’t it? Well, not just any year but a year with one extra day! It’s such a joy to be gifted with yet another day, which doesn’t really mean anything at all when you remember that the mechanical parts of our bodies don’t work in or take account of days or years. So you haven’t really lived for another day at all; it was just another span of time that was called something different.

What did you do with that extra non-day? I complained that I had to be at work for another day with no thanks or praise and wondered whether I should mention it to my boss so he could adjust my pay accordingly. A colleague advised me against this and pointed out that, thanks to Queenie, we would be getting an extra day off anyway. I couldn’t be arsed to work out whether I would be better off, worse off or exactly the same, so I just shut up and did some work.

In the middle section of the year, a miasma of happiness and togetherness forcibly descended onto the UK or maybe just London (I became very London-centric at this point and often thought that “east, west” etc. on the weather forecast was referring to Hackney and Shepherd’s Bush, not Norfolk and Cornwall).

We all know what happened this year. Loads of big stuff; stuff that everyone thought we would completely fuck up but actually turned out rather well. When Jeremy Hunt had the bell ringing incident, I thought that the Olympics had peaked before it had even begun but in actual fact, the sports were really great too (and we were also treated to a second instance of political-it-must-be-satire thanks to Boris dangling from a zip wire).

But forget about the Olympics and the Jubilee and the end of the world that didn’t happen and the re-election of Obama and all that stuff because none of it really matters. This wasn’t the year of Team GB (I bet they’re really regretting their homage to Jimmy Savile now aren’t they?) or the Royals or the prank phone call or the president we wish we had for ourselves; this was the year of….dum dum dum

Paul McCartney: the embarrassingly avuncular Beatle that somebody (against the will of everyone in the UK) expropriated for the benefit of, um, everyone in the UK.

I’m not going to slam him though because he is a brilliant, brilliant musician and seems (as far as you can tell, which you never really can) to be an okay kind of guy (not withstanding the Heather Mills years). Caveat, caveat.

Finally, I should say that my basis for thinking Paul might be a nice guy is thanks to his cameo in The Simpsons episode called “Lisa The Vegetarian”.


 Paul and his late wife Linda inexplicably find themselves on the roof of the Kwik-E-Mart with Apu and Lisa where a discussion about vegetarianism begins. Surely you have to be quite nice to be a veggie – at least not a total psychopath. Anyway, this was all but forgotten until Christmas day when Paul came into my 2012 yet again with his “Meat Free Monday Cookbook”.

It’s really, really good and I like the fact he takes a realistic view of a meat-free life, rather than just bulldozing meat-eaters with PETA pictures. The book is broken down into seasons (always helpful, so you can incorporate the most plentiful and therefore, cheapest vegetables into your meals), weeks (for each Monday) and meals (breakfast, packed lunch, lunch, snack/side, dinner and dessert).

One such packed lunch caught my eye: the cheese and onion sandwich. It uses goats’ cheese and cream cheese mixed together and sandwiched, with caramelised red onion and rocket, between two slices of granary bread. Caramelissssssanything makes me drool and I was craving a cheese toastie, so I decided to sack off the goats cheese etc. and make a good old toastie with the addition of caramelised onion.

Something so "sweaty" has never looked or tasted this good.
Heat some oil in a frying pan and add half a sliced red onion. Allow the onion to sweat. When it begins to wilt, add a quarter of a teaspoon of sugar, a teaspoon of balsamic vinegar and a little seasoning. Cook for another 3 – 4 minutes.

I used edam cheese and made these in a normal toastie maker.
It was divine. So, so lovely and I can still smell the onions in the kitchen, which is a bloody good thing. So Paul, you are forgiven and will be allowed to return to our screens limitlessly in 2013. 
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Disgusting Peppered "Steak" Sandwich

It doesn't look really bad. But it is. 


The disclaimer at the bottom of my last post got me thinking; I was sure that I had had to provide some kind of food-related hazard warning before. Lo and behold, after a search through my blogging archives (the blogs that I write and then never post, due to being lazy and uninspired), I found the disclaimer in question.

Ready, Marty McFly? We’re going back in time to April 2012, when my life looked like this:

"Disclaimer: Before I start this particular blog let me just tell you that the resultant meal you will eat after toiling for actually not very long is fucking disgusting. So, please feel free to disregard this one and move along.

As usual, quite some time has gone by since my last update. It is now nearly May which is sort of nearly half way through the year and so it’s basically nearly 2013 and I have wasted all of 2012 by eating Milka bars and refreshing my Twitter home page.

Talking of 2012, has anyone been watching the Beeb’s Twenty Twelve? (I still find it funny to ask my “readers” these questions; it makes me feel all self-important as if I am actually writing a real blog). Anyway, it’s bloody brilliant. In it, my boss is wonderfully portrayed by the excellent Jessica Hynes. That’s a joke, obviously, but not a very good one. I can’t be arsed.

So, here is a list of a few things that have recently made my life a bit shit:

A few months ago I over-enthusiastically told an old friend that we should just FORGET about emails and Facebook and actually write to each other. She said “OK” but really, I bet she was thinking “Yeah right. You can’t even find the time to reply to a text with the word “yes” so how are you going to actually buy some paper and an envelope and then sit down and WRITE something”.

If that was what she was thinking, she was right because I never did write a thing and now the price of stamps has fucking quadrupled or something…so, that showed me.

I stupidly stumbled upon these pictures and spent a long time looking at them, whilst eating digestives and pulling at the fat on my cheeks.

I am accustomed to chatting to people in the kitchen at work and then agreeing to do something that they haven’t even put pressure on me to do. One such case was when I agreed to help a lawyer-cum-writer-cum-occasional-tv-commentator prepare a case against the UK government. No biggie then.

I should have known better because after spending 24 years with myself I know that I am lazy, unmotivated, prone to u-turns on commitments and always panicking. True to form, here I am with a long list of Directives that I do not understand but pretended at the time that I did. You will now understand why I decided to write this blog.

One final thing that was shit this week was the sandwich I made yesterday. Asda has a period, once every couple of months, where luxury pizzas, Activia yoghurts and Covent Garden soups are all on offer. This is the BEST time ever and I will elbow children, pregnant women and pensioners out of the way just to reach that last pizza. Even if I can’t fit everything I have bought into my fridge, it’s okay because I just pop it right into the oven and have an extra meal or two that day.

This week, the deal was off so I sullenly moped around the other aisles to see what other offers there were. I found some Quorn peppered steaks for £1 and dolefully chucked them into my wheely basket".

The offending item.

(this is where the post ends)

I obviously never posted this meal because I never got round to finishing the story. It goes like this:

I know, I KNOW that Quorn products aren’t exactly like meat. I knoooow. However, some are better than others, as will be demonstrated in the coming weeks with a post on the best veggie chilli I have ever made or even tasted. These bloody peppered “steaks” are just awful though and I don’t think it has anything to do with my cooking.



This is more of a health warning than a good old recipe but if you are an insane vegetarian who would like to pay some money to feel really sick, then get a “steak”, some rocket, tomato and bread and bundle it all together.

You’re so welcome!
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Edo Sushi



I left my job in the City with a magnificent leaving do. We went to Sushi Samba (where I had 1 of my 4 minor vegetarian fuck ups this year) and we went to a wild club where our table cost more than my law degree. We lost one of my bosses in Soho and as the most sober person, I was sent to find him (he had gone to score and later returned, courtesy of a bemused rickshaw driver, with all the buttons missing from his shirt). My other boss had blood all down HIS shirt and claimed not to know why. His PA looked like the woman at the beginning of that anti-binge drinking advert. She then looked like a naked version of that woman in the advert when I caught her with my (also naked) boss doing something that adults often do when they are naked with other people.

I left my job, not because I didn’t like it but because it wasn’t something I wanted to do forever and at 24, you have to start thinking about what you are going to do forever, don’t you? The ideas of a house (not a room), a mortgage (not rent), a marriage (not fucking around) and, gulp, a brood (I don’t even know) occasionally creep into your drug addled thoughts.

But then, you’re only 24. So you swiftly assure yourself…”Fuck this, I’m only 24!!! I don’t need to think about serious things for ages; possibly not for 20 years or forever!!”, so I joined the music industry!

I didn’t go to a label or a recording studio, I became a management assistant! In management, you have to be really organised and motivated and organised and a bit of a servant and organised. I quickly realised that I wasn’t doing any of the work I was meant to be doing, unless it was something I couldn’t get away with not doing.

For example, “Laura, could you please get me a Starbucks and water the garden?” “Yes, of course” and I did!

Or…

“Laura, could you please find us some artists who you think would go well with these producers, then burn some CDs and then research some recording studios and then find me a new cleaner?” “Yes, of course” and I didn’t!

All this work was piling up and I was very worried. As I may have said before, I am an 80% panic/20% work type of person. I pretended that everything was fine whilst doing absolutely no work. One weekend, I thought about this mess and instead of rationally deciding to stay late a few nights and do the work, I panicked.

On Monday morning, I went into the office, made my boss a cup of tea, set up her diary for the day and quit. I said that I didn’t want to be in London anymore and that music wasn’t for me and that…and that…..I wanted to be a teacher!

In actual fact, a terrible realisation had hit me: I wasn’t a manager at all; I needed a manager!

They were very mad: “You have really left us in the lurch here. Do you know that Diana Vickers’ sister wanted this job? We turned her down you know because we thought you would be better. We waited for TWO months for you to work your notice. TWO MONTHS. Even though we needed someone straight away. We could have had Diana’s sister; she really wanted this job you know”.

I didn’t care; I just thought “get me out of here right now”.

I put my room on the market, lugged every belonging I had back up to my parents’ house and registered at a temping agency.

I was worried that being up north would mean there would be no good places to eat lunch. However, during my first placement at the temping agency, I was introduced to a lovely little sushi takeaway in Sheffield city centre: Edo Sushi.

It’s extremely tiny and you can’t eat in, which is not really a problem because you can trundle along to the Winter Gardens in Sheffield and just sit there and eat it, which is much nicer than a real indoor place. There is one particularly nice member of staff – a lady, who works on the front counter. I have a bit of a crush on her, I think. Not in a sexy way but just in a I wish you were my best friend and we watched films together and thought the same things sort of way. All the other staff are nice too.

The reason I am writing about this place isn’t because of the building or the staff but because it does good, authentic Japanese food that is in the centre of Sheffield, so may be good for people nipping out on their lunch breaks.

Veggie Edo Box - £4.50 at lunchtime (the fish one is the same price)

Aubergine Katsu Curry - usually £6ish but £4.50 if you ask nicely.

It's really fucking good.
Disclaimer: As I have no readers, it hardly needs to be said that I have not been paid in money or free stuff to write this post. Having said that, if Edo Sushi or anyone else wants to send me free stuff, I promise to be absolutely and utterly corrupt and write whatever you want me to say.
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Saturday 29 December 2012

Smarties Cookies



Where do I begin? I’ve already tried to begin an “update” blog like this many, many times BUT like I just said…where do I begin? I can’t even be bothered to go onto the blog to see where I last left you guys (ha ha, guys, readers, of which I have none).

Anyway, I’m pretty sure that everything I wrote about before now eg: oh, my life in London is so tragic! and I keep making an arse of myself in a job that actually pays me enough to afford a room! seems pretty cool and glamorous now. The kind of life I wished I was living was the closest I've ever been to the life I was living! Only, I didn’t realise it at the time.

I remember when I first found out that the Olympics were going to be held in London. It was 2005 and I was (I’ve been trying to calculate this for 10 minutes but my festive drunk head just can’t work it out)….17. I was 17. I remember doing a much quicker calculation to work out how old I would be in 2012. I would be 24. I am 24!

I had all these ideas about how I would probably have a fit, successful boyfriend. I would reside in London and we would share a flat together. The flat would be really sleek and modern and definitely in a really good area of London. Not a REALLY good area like Kensington but a realistic area. Like Islington. I would also have a job but it wouldn’t be a stressy job and I definitely wouldn’t have to commute. I’d come home and cook an incredibly complex three-course meal and we’d eat with our like-minded friends over candlelight and talk about music and films and art and our opinions would all be intelligent and similar. We'd all feel so....at home, wanted and belonging to something.

I would suddenly have changed body shape and instead of looking really clumpy and uncomfortable in a pencil skirt, I'd look sleek and business-like. My hair would no longer be frizzy and limp, as I would have presumably conjured up £10,000 of disposable income for a hair transplant. All my bad personality traits (I won’t list them here as that is surely a very negative exercise) would have magically disappeared (I also paid for a therapist) and I would suddenly be generous, accepting, wildly sociable, not constantly anxious and paranoid and loved by everyone. Shit. Can you now work out my bad personality traits?

So basically, it didn’t happen.

I tried to make some cookies today and they also failed. I know that it is always proper to credit your recipes but I got these cookies from a really nice blogger and I’m pretty sure that the recipe is fine and it’s just me that fucked them all up but I’m hesitating as to whether to link here.


Upon first tasting of the cookies, I said “these taste like sausages”. My mum and brother did not agree with this. Once the cookies had cooled down, I said “these taste of nothing at all”. My mum and brother remained silent, which is, I think, a sign that these cookies taste of nothing at all.

I wondered whether I had put too much baking powder or bicarbonate of soda in the mixture because I have sometimes heard that this can ruin the flavour. However, as I don’t know what too much baking powder or bicarbonate of soda tastes like, it’s difficult to accurately say that this was the problem.

Try these at your peril. Perhaps if you are really bored or in desperate need of something to nibble on eg: all your cardboard boxes have disappeared and you need something else to chew on ASAP. A good alternative, I feel, would be to simply bypass the cookie part and just eat a tube of Smarties.

One more thing. The 24 year old me of my dreams would 1) not have made anything that turned out wrong and 2) if, by some freak accident, she HAD made something substandard, she wouldn’t waste the calories by eating them all.

I am currently eating the 5th cookie of the most disgusting batch of cookies I have ever made or tasted.




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Sunday 29 January 2012

Vegetarian Shepherd's Pie




The other week at work, I received a major blow. Whilst pouring myself a glass of Innocent smoothie in the communal kitchen, a man from another office walked up behind me and uttered the crushing line: “Excuse me, are you the cleaner?”

Now, as people always write when mistaken for someone in a job supposedly less prestigious than their own, I have nothing against cleaners. Other than the fact that after university when I applied to clean tables at lunchtime in a primary school, I was rejected. Nothing personal there though, as I was also rejected from McDonalds, Subway and Pizza Hut and consequently ended up “selling” gas and electricity for an anonymous energy supplier.

Where was I? Ah yes, in the kitchen at work. To paint a clearer picture, I was wearing an ex-boyfriend’s oversized Ben Sherman jumper, some trousers that I originally bought for my work experience at age 15 which are all frayed at the bottom hems and some chequered Vans slip-ons.

So, bitterly, I took the erroneous remark by the horns and gave myself a proverbial kick up the arse. Off I marched to Westfield to splurge on some office wear. I mean, I do TRY to dress professionally but it’s just not in my nature. I have the wrong body for pencil skirts and I just can’t walk in heels unless I’m battered, which sort of rules them out as work wear.

The only good thing about Westfield is that they have one of those pretzel stalls that continuously give out free samples of warm, sugary, cinnamony doughnuty things. After a few laps of the pretzel place, with different facial expressions each time in an attempt to disguise myself and not look like I was just one greedy person substituting supper with free samples, I made my way into Primark. Yeah, I know it’s rubbish quality and crap fitting, yadda yaddaa, I don’t care I just wanted some cheap shirts.

It seems as if I’m not the only one having an image overhaul; so are the government! At least they’re encouraging all of us to have an overhaul anyway. Change 4 Life is brought to us by the NHS and it aims to get people to eat less junk and more vegetables. My mum emailed this recipe to me the other week and suggested that I try it, so I did.

The thing is with all Quorn based products is that you can tell that it’s not meat. It doesn’t have the flavour or the aroma or the consistency. To enjoy this one, you need to be one of the following:

a) a vegetarian/vegan (I think this is vegan friendly but correct me if I am wrong);
b) a person who wants to cut down on their meat/is open to veggie stuff; or
c) an omnivore with a really bad cold rendering their taste buds inadequate.

However, two positive points to note about the meal are as follows:

1) There isn’t much washing up. As a person without access to a dishwasher, the amount of dirty dishes a meal produces is always a good “shall I bother cooking this” barometer; and

2) I discovered that I quite like the smell of singed oven glove (caught it on the grill, twice). It’s a bit like bonfire toffee, which I love.




Ingredients

2 carrots, chopped
300g swede, chopped
600g potatoes, cut into small cubes
1 tsp vegetable oil
1 onion, chopped (I used 2)
I spontaneously added 1 red pepper
300g vegetarian mince
300ml reduced salt vegetable stock
1 courgette, grated
100g frozen mixed vegetables or frozen peas
Ground black pepper
1 tsp cornflour (I used plain flour)

1. Cook the carrots, swede and potatoes in a large saucepan of boiling water until tender, about 20 minutes.

2. Meanwhile, heat the vegetable oil in a large saucepan and gently fry the onion for 2-3 minutes, until softened. Add the vegetarian mince (at this point I added my plain flour) and stock. Bring to the boil, then reduce the heat and add the courgette and frozen mixed vegetables or peas. Cook, stirring occasionally, for 4-5 minutes. Season with black pepper.

3. Preheat the grill, warming a baking dish underneath for a few moments. Meanwhile, drain and mash the carrots, swede and potatoes, seasoning with black pepper.

4. Blend the cornflour with 1 tbsp cold water and add it to the mince mixture, stirring until thickened (didn't bother with this bit, due to the plain flour escapade but i think it would make a nicer gravy, which was slightly lacking in mine). Transfer it to the baking dish and spoon the vegetable mash on top. Grill for about 5 minutes, until browned. Serve.



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Pretending To Eat Meat - Episode 1





Before becoming a v-e-g-g-i-e I was a fervent meat eater. Unlike some of my friends who have been brought up as vegetarians and so have never craved meat, I fucking loved meat. 

There are so many of my favourite things that have now become confined to the history books. Examples include McDonalds (Thankfully, I can still have the fries), steak (not usually a massive fan but after my first and last visit to Relais de Venise it’s another darling gone) and my two most beloved curries ever (one of which is at a restaurant in Sheffield and the other is one I used to make for my boyfriend). Sob.

Anyway, chin up because even though I can’t eat animals anymore, I can still pretend! I will therefore strive to update my blog with things I find that brighten up the melancholy meat-free life.

Frazzles
I would describe these facon (fake bacon…fay-cun) crisps as middle-class pork scratchings. I hate pork scratchings but I do like bacon and so these stripy little tabs, vaguely reminiscent of meat are actually quite good. So good in fact that from the 8 pack I bought yesterday, I only have one packet left. Please note that as I do not have any friends, I’m ashamed to say that I am the consumer of all 7 packets.





Haribo
Alright, not ALL Haribo is suitable for vegetarians. In fact, most of it isn’t, including my all-time favourite sweet ever – Maoam. Maoam are just the fruitiest bites of chewy joy anyone could ever experience and whoever invented them is a genius but also very weird because let’s face it, who would even consider putting ANIMAL in kids’ chews.

In light of the above, you can imagine how joyous I was when I stumbled upon some Haribo that didn’t contain stuff from animals’ bones. I didn’t even bother to read the packaging or stop to consider that I might not like them, I just chucked them in my little wheelie basket and hopped along to the self-service.

Long story short: they’re not as nice as normal sweets so I suppose the animal stuff really makes a difference. They’re not really chewy and the flavours were a bit shit. If one thing is going to be my downfall with the whole veggie thing, then it WILL be Maoam.

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Potato Wedges




Self control. Discipline. Strength.

Just a few of the traits I do not possess. Some people can eat a normal bar of chocolate, feel satisfied and move on with their day. Other people can go out for a couple of drinks after work – hell, maybe even three or four – and then trot off back home feeling satisfied. Some amazing people can get their laptop out, have a quick browse through Facebook, update their Tumblr with a picture of 1990’s nostalgia and then turn off their laptop and resume real life.

I am not one of the aforementioned people. In fact, I am the antithesis of every rational and controlled person on this planet – which to me, seems like EVERYONE.

Let’s take the same examples and apply them to my life. The only chocolate I eat comes in packages which are plastered with “To share!”, “Seal back up for later!” and “For all the family to enjoy!”. Are they TRYING to rub it in? I mean, does anyone actually use those shit stickers that are never big enough or sticky enough to actually hold a bag of Maltesers shut? Well, anyway, I frequently eat a bag of these chocolates a day. And then I move onto sweets and crisps.

Nights out and drinking is another failing point and my work Christmas party is a prime example. Instead of going home afterwards, like all the other well-behaved and rational people, I decided to stay out. Even by 5am I was sitting at a bus stop on Bishopsgate thinking that I wasn’t yet ready to go back to my hotel (I got a hotel as little Christmas present from the Boss). To make matters worse, I was the ONLY one who was meant to be working the next day. I turned up to work at 11.30am (only because the hotel checking out time was at noon) and spent the day on a make-shift bed (two office chairs) with intermittent trips to the toilets to stick my head in the bowl.

I imagine I’m not the only person with an internet addiction but I really think I take it to another level, to the point that I don’t really socialise in real life because I spend ALL my time reading blogs of people I wish I knew but don’t. Probably those people would never actually want to know me, as I imagine that they have become interesting people by hanging around with people who are also interesting.

Anyway, I made some potato wedges and they were so fucking good that I pulled them out of the oven, took an un-opened tub of soured cream from the fridge and proceeded to eat all of them, straight off the baking tray and into my mouth. When you find yourself: a) not using a plate; and b) standing whilst eating home-cooking, you know that you are a failure.

Potato Wedges

2 jumbo baking potatoes
Olive oil

  1. Cut up each potato into 16 wedges. Lie them on a baking tray and drizzle with olive oil. Use your hands to get them all covered in the oil. Arrange them as a single layer on the tray.
  1. Stick them in the oven at about 200c (fan). After about 20 minutes turn each wedge over and stick them in for another 20 minutes until they’re golden.
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Saturday 28 January 2012

Roasted Vegetable Lasagne



Well, well well. After STUPIDLY committing myself to “Soup of the Week” (see last entry), it all went down hill fast. There haven’t been any notable problems: I still have a home and an internet connection and a laptop and a brain and so there is no good reason why I have not updated since fucking OCTOBER.

I promise to never, ever promise about doing anything ever again. It just leads to disaster, in all of life’s departments. Here’s to a new year, a new start and a free and easy non-committal approach to blogging.

Talking about new starts, let’s talk resolutions. Unlike most people, I am actually alright at sticking to new years resolutions. They’re never anything too major, usually just read more (I did), eat less bread (I do), stop being lazy and do revision (I did and got a degree!).

However, this year, I have gone ALL OUT. I have become a vegetarian. There are various reasons behind this but I’m fearful of going into them because so many people get very upset and defensive about people who have become vegetarian. Instead, I’ll just tell you that I read a lot about meat and fish production and decided that it wasn’t for me.

So, in light of the above, my blog about food is going to harbour certain obvious limitations. Who knows how long this will last; as Soup of the Week-gate has proven, it is silly to boast about anything being forever. All I will say is that I am currently, at the moment, presently a vegetarian and here is a delightful recipe that a vegetarian or anyone…except a vegan…can eat.

Roasted Vegetable Lasagne

Ingredients
  • 3 red peppers
  • 2 aubergine
  • 3 large mushrooms (not on the official recipe but I like it)
  • 8 tbsp olive oil , plus a little for greasing
  • ½ quantity tomato sauce (see link to main site)
  • 300g fresh pack lasagne sheets
  • ½ quantity white sauce (see link to main site)
  • 125g ball mozzarella
Heat oven to 200C/fan 180C/gas 6. Deseed the peppers, halve, then cut into large chunks. Trim ends off aubergines, then cut into slices about ½cm thick. Lightly grease 2 large baking trays, then place peppers and aubergines on top. Toss with the olive oil, season well, then roast for 25 mins until lightly browned.

Reduce oven to 180C/fan 160C/gas 4. Lightly oil an ovenproof serving dish (30 x 20cm). Arrange a layer of the vegetables on the bottom, then pour over a third of the tomato sauce. Top with a layer of lasagne, then drizzle over a quarter of the white sauce. Repeat until you have 3 layers of pasta.
To finish, spoon remaining white sauce over the pasta, making sure the whole surface is covered. Scatter mozzarella. Bake for 45 mins until bubbling and golden.

The full recipe can be found here: BBC Good Food.

A few notes:

1. The tomato sauce (which you can find on the main BBC Good Food site) is exceptional. It's like a soup. A really good soup. However, like making a homemade soup, it does take a bit of time. Therefore, I recommend making a batch of this stuff, to be frozen and used at a later date.

2. Aubergines are my new "thing". They really are great, for many reasons. Firstly, they are easy as hell. Most vegetables that are aubergine-sized, like butternut squash, are nightmarish to cut up and peel. The great thing about aubergines is that the seeds are ok to eat and you can eat the skin! Like a healthy potato perhaps. Secondly, they soak up flavours like nothing else, meaning they taste bloody good.

3. I was telling my Mum all about this recipe and so she made it for my Dad. It didn't go down well because my Dad missed the meat. Therefore, if you really are a fully fledged carnivore, this might not be the right blog for you anymore.
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