Cooking is something I became aware of at a very young age. My mother was quite adventurous in the kitchen. In the 1980s, it felt pretty exotic to get a chicken kiev, and she was always trying things with spices when most people weren’t. She did a chicken casserole with lots of paprika and peppers and this rice with onions and chicken stock, which is still the best rice in the world. When we had a traditional Sunday roast, she’d throw in a courgette frittata. Her yorkshires are the best, too, although they’re the saddest looking things. They’d never rise, but that’s how I liked it.
Mum’s Jewish and, while we weren’t a family that had Friday night dinner every week, we often did, and we’d have traditional grub at Jewish holidays. Liver is a staple in Jewish families and, whether you liked it or not, you were made to eat it (that and chopped herring).
Mum is not a showy chef but she’s a master of taste and her chopped liver just makes sense in so many ways. My grandmother cooked it before her, and would serve it with beautifully sweet challah rolls from the Jewish bakery and perfect, sweet gherkins. It’s got sharpness, creaminess, and just something special. If I was sad, my mum would make it for me, normally with a matzo cracker. It looks horrendous, like wet cement, and sounds like a Handmaid’s Tale punishment, but – I promise – it’s heaven on a plate.
Mum was generous with food, but not so much with her kitchen. I was always great at eating, but would be very messy and she would get very irritated. I remember making a roux for a cauliflower cheese or something and it all going wrong. But I still got into cooking and picked it up by watching her from afar. We’ve now come back together thanks to Table Manners, my podcast, which is now in its fourth series. Last year we talked to Loyle Carner, the musician and actor, and offered him Mum’s chopped liver. I could see the fear in his eyes but I believe in this dish maybe more than any of my lyrics. On my desert island, it would be the starter.
At university in Sussex, there were a lot of stir fries in halls of residence kitchens. And, it being Brighton, there was also a lot of lentils and tofu. And that got me excited about vegetarian and vegan food, much to Mum’s disappointment. Like her, I became a cook who’d maybe start with a recipe and then add a bit here and there. I made a tagine once because I’d been to Morocco with my boyfriend, who is now my husband, and I completely cocked up the seasoning.
But cooking is so important to me. It’s a kind of therapy because I think it demands your attention. I can’t be on social media while I’m cooking, or thinking about work. I’m focusing on creating something else and that’s calming for me when I don’t have much calmness in my life. The idea of being tuned into what I’m doing, and getting a result from it – I just love that feeling. I’m known for my Marbella chicken dish – kind of sweet and salty with oregano and lots of white wine and, apricots and capers – it really gets the taste buds going. But if anything it’s the cooking I like the most. When people come, I’ll offer them some nice wine, and it’s lovely.
I’m excited about passing my love for food on to the next generation. When my daughter was a baby and started having pureed food, I was determined to make her palate so sophisticated. I was putting in ginger and garlic and giving her dahl. She ate everything and it was the most satisfying thing, watching her eat my food. And then she got to one-and-a-bit and discovered beige food and she broke my heart. I’ll give her dahl now and she’ll go: “Yuk.” All she wants is pasta and sausages. But that will change and it brings me so much joy to think that we’ll share that bond, because food is the most special thing to me – and food memories are the best. I’ve never made livers myself because Mum’s so good at it, but maybe it’s nearly time.
Lennie’s chopped liver
Chopped liver is a staple in Jewish households. Try it with a sweet gherkin and a matzoh cracker for the full Friday night family dinner treatment
Ingredients
3 eggs, medium
Knob of butter
1 onion, medium
250g chicken livers
Salt and pepper to season
Fresh dill to serve
Directions
Hard boil three medium-size eggs. Sauté a large onion, finely chopped, in butter (made from cream) until soft but still firm. Rendered chicken fat, known as shmaltz, is better but usually it’s only available in Jewish delis.
Add 250g of chicken livers, salt and pepper to season and cook for about 10 minutes until browned all over. You can add garlic, but I prefer it without.
Allow to cool. Whizz in a good processor until quite smooth then add two of the eggs and continue to mix until combined. Put on to a plate and smooth out until it is flat and the livers reach the edge. Grate the other egg on to the top. Serve with fresh dill, challah or matzoh and pickled cucumbers.
Best paired with …
Smooth on the palate with an elegant feel and a lingering finish, a glass of this flavoursome rioja – aged for 18 months in oak casks – is the perfect accompaniment to the rich flavour of Lennie’s authentic chopped liver recipe.
Life’s better shared
With hectic schedules and digital distractions never far away, taking time to meet up face-to-face, to share stories, food and laughter, can provide a balm for modern life. Here are three ways to start today:
1 Ditch the desk lunch and eat with workmates instead – it’s more fun, plus you’ll get to know your colleagues better.
2 Have a screen-free meal. Lay the table, share some food – and maybe even a glass of wine – and ask your family or flatmates about their day.
3 Hosting shouldn’t be a chore. Make dinner parties collaborative by asking guests to bring food or drink.
Made for sharing
Sharing is in the vines at Campo Viejo. In an era when Spaniards only drank wine from their region, Campo Viejo’s founders were inspired to share their Rioja far and wide, bringing people together over a bottle now and then.
Campo Viejo. Made for sharing. Discover more at campoviejo.com
