As Strong As Soup

The recipe for this autumnal soup is based on something that I ate in a restaurant around 20 years ago, but it reminded me of a time long ago and of the music of Leonard Cohen. Early in the 1970s, there lived in South London a man who saw it as his mission in life to cook food for the waifs, strays, bad poets, questionable musicians and general hangers-on of the area. I'll call him Henry because, after all this time, I have to slightly misquote Dylan and admit that the only thing I can remember for sure about Henry is that his name wasn't Henry. The meals he made were often soups and always vegetarian. I'm fairly sure that they were made from the dodgy-looking veg they couldn't sell to normal people in Balham market. The meals were invariably accompanied by the sound of one of the first two Leonard Cohen albums. I assume he had some other records, but I don't remember him ever playing them. Although I've eaten a vast number of vegetarian dishes since then, inclu

This recipe produces a rich sauce with some very tender, intensely-flavoured, shredded lamb. It takes a while to cook, but doesn't demand much effort.  The crucial aspect of the sauce is the sweet and sour balance that comes mostly from the combination of Marsala and vinegar. My ideal combination of vinegars in this dish is balsamic (unless you're rich, a cheap version will do in this case), sherry vinegar and a soft style of white wine vinegar, such as one made from Riesling wine. But I'm being annoyingly fussy, so just use what you have that's interesting but not excessively acidic. As for the Marsala, I use a dry style but they can vary quite a bit in just how dry they turn out to be. So, in short, be prepared to taste and adjust the flavours to your liking if they don't seem perfectly balanced. Although this doesn't produce a large amount of sauce, it's intense enough to serve 2 or even 3 people. Of course, you don't have to serve it with pasta, that

I'm not usually a big fan of chilled soup but this is an intriguing little appetiser that's a little bit different. The inspiration for this soup came from an Indian restaurant back in the 1980s, but I've changed it a fair bit since the days when Frankie went to Hollywood with a Filofax under his arm. Since then we've had an ocean of smoothies coming and going in popularity, so you could think of this as a slightly odd, savoury smoothie served in a soup bowl, if you prefer. Mangoes can vary a lot in size and sweetness, so taste and adjust the flavour of the soup as you see fit. Although this is a very simple little recipe, it can be made even simpler if you replace the coconut milk and yoghurt with a supermarket coconut yoghurt and the fresh mango with a tin of mango pulp. I don't think this even simpler version tastes quite as good but, if you're pushed for time, it can still be pretty satisfying. You may well find that canned mango is a bit too sweet, so add a

It's that happy time of year again when courgettes are growing in the garden and appearing in the shops faster than a politician thinking up excuses. Here are two simple recipes to make use of the bounty that are just a little bit different. ( Slow-cooked courgettes are also well worth trying, if you haven't already). Courgette, Olive and Basil Sauce If you take a look at the ingredients, I'm sure it won't come as a surprise when I say that this is a Southern French sauce, or, at least, my interpretation of one. It's a way of producing a creamy sauce with no cream (or anything like it) and plenty of flavour. Admittedly, the colour of the sauce isn't quite as exciting as the taste, but it will seriously liven up simply-cooked chicken, roasted veg (squash, for instance) or, as I fancied eating this time, flash-fried prawns. If you want to vary the amount of basil or olives, or add a little chilli, then I'm confident that the sauce will still come up smiling.

Duck with orange sauce is a great classic and can be truly delicious. But it became a bit of a joke when less-than-great restaurants began to turn out overcooked, dry duck in something resembling marmalade with a dollop of Grand Marnier in it. I haven't come across many restaurants in recent years that still serve this dish. (Although I do know of one establishment that seems unchanged since the 1970s and not only serves the classic duck à l’orange but also has a sweet trolley). This recipe is not the classic sauce, but it's a relatively simple dish that doesn't need the whole duck or too much time to prepare and it shows why the duck and orange sauce was a really good idea in the first place.  This recipe has the great advantage that the sauce is largely made in advance, although it's best to add the finishing touches immediately before serving. Blood oranges aren't essential but, if they're in season, they do have a lovely flavour without being too sweet and

Zézettes are biscuits from Sète in the south of France that have a sweet, crisp exterior and a satisfying, softer interior. They work really well with coffee or tea and, I think, are also lovely alongside gooey desserts and ice creams. Even better, they're simple and quick to make. Although based on a much older, Algerian biscuit, zézettes were actually created and named by Gaston Bentata somewhere around the time it was impossible to avoid disco. Strictly speaking, you should use the excellent, sweet wine local to Sète, Muscat de Frontignan, in this recipe, but other sweet wines will work just fine too. In fact, you could use any white wine you happen to have and still get a decent result. Just don't tell anybody in Sète that I said that. I use a mixture of two sugars, but I'm probably being a bit fussy there, so use just one if it's easier. The combination of orange flower water and vanilla is crucial to the character of the biscuit (well, that's what I think), bu