meet in your kitchen | Dario Cammarata's Herb Ravioli, Palermo & Villa Kennedy

Once in a while one has to enjoy the pleasures of life a bit more excessively, plenty is the right word. I convinced my boyfriend that we deserved a little break from our daily duties, to learn how to make ravioli from a true Palermo man. Luckily, my Sicilian chef, the charming Dario Cammarata, works in the kitchen of Frankurt's most beautiful hotel, the splendid Villa Kennedy, so it wasn't much work to get a 'yes' from my man.

We jumped on a train, crossed the country, and found ourselves in front of the heavy iron gates of an elegant villa. Built in 1901 for a banker family, the house looks impressive but not intimidating. Beige sandstone, zinc gables, turrets, and ornate balustrades made me feel like a princess, at least for 24 hours. I was prepared for excellent service and outstanding food - which we definitely experienced at dinner, breakfast, and lunch - but I didn't expect to feel so welcomed and nicely spoilt, so I asked myself: "Why should I ever leave again?" Be it the three porters Luciano, Mahmood, and Girgis, or the second man from Palermo in the house and maître d'hôtel, Vito Vitale, the way they treated us goes beyond politeness, their friendliness comes straight from the heart. But there were two people who I could have taken straight home with me to Berlin, Yasmin Michel and my favourite Sicilian chef Dario, our two partners in crime for 24 hours to spoil us with amazing wine, the finest champagne, and delicious treats from the kitchen of the Gusto restaurant.

Before we sat down to our Sicilian feast on the evening of our arrival, I had a chat with Dario who left his home island at the age of 18. He wanted to become a chef since first setting foot in a restaurant kitchen in Palermo as a young man of 14. As soon as he finished his training he headed to northern Europe to follow his second passion: traveling. He worked in many great restaurants, amongst them Michelin-starred restaurants in Saint-Tropez, Italy, and Switzerland, and went through the suffering that every ambitious and successful young chef has to go through. Long hours of hard work and not much sleep are the price you have to pay if you work in the world's best culinary hotspots. Dario loved it and only the love to his wife made him settle down. It's already been 10 years since he joined the Villa Kennedy as the Executive Chef and - being a father of three children now - Dario wouldn't change anything. He enjoys cooking at home with his kids, introducing them to the vast knowledge and traditions he learned from his Sicilian Mamma Saveria. Dario praises her cooking and, although he admits that no Sicilian man would ever say his mother isn't talented in the kitchen, Saveria must be a true gem. She's critical - of course - she has very high standards when it comes to food, so much so that she sometimes cooked three different dishes for lunch to please the individual taste of her three sons when they were young. This woman loves her food - and her family. After one of Dario's visits to his Mamma's kitchen earlier this year, he decided to take a few of her recipes up north to introduce the guests of the hotel to the Mamma's Menu:

• Anelletti alla Trapanese con Tartara di Gamberoni alla Menta (Anelletti Trapanese pasta with king prawn tatar and mint)

• Involtini di Pesce Spada con Insalatina di Finocchi ed Agrumi, Calamaretti (swordfish involtini with fennel and citrus fruit salad and calamaretti)

• Trio di Cannoli con Gelato al Pistacchio (cannoli trilogy with pistacchio ice cream)

We enjoyed it in silence, only accompanied by a few Ohh's and Ahh's and a bottle of amazing Sicilian white wine - divine. Grilled polpo with potatoes was next, beautifully hearty Ravioli con Sanguinaccio, Pera E Sedano Rapa (black pudding ravioli with pear and celeriac), and a heavenly buffalo ricotta cheesecake with blueberry sorbet. This dinner left me happy, stuffed, and ready for bed.

The next day started with an early morning swim in the peaceful spa, followed by lots of laughter and excitement in the kitchen - and even more fantastic food. I should have skipped breakfast as I had a cooking date with Dario ahead but it looked too tempting so I gave in. Sometimes in life you just have to go with the flow and enjoy what it offers - in this case, plenty of good food. We put on our aprons and I felt ready to learn how a Sicilian man who lives in the cold north makes ravioli. He uses what Mamma taught him to prepare the perfect pasta dough and combines it with one of the most popular classics of his new home: the Frankfurt green sauce, enriched with ricotta to fill the ravioli. The sauce is a traditional recipe from the Frankfurt region, made with seven fresh herbs: parsley, chives, chervil, borage, sorrel, garden cress, and salad burnet. In Germany, you can by them ready packed for this sauce but Dario recommends buying them singly, otherwise you'll end up with lots of (cheaper) parsley and little of the more expensive herbs. If you can't find all of them at your market, just skip one or replace it - I know that true Frankfurt green sauce defenders wouldn't agree with me but we're talking about cooking and not science. Dario says that a bit of fresh mint or lemon would also fit his ravioli filling to freshen it up. Just be experimental. And if you'd like to see a little video of Dario making ravioli, check out my Snapchat (@eatinmykitchen).

Although we laughed the whole time, we managed to successfully make ravioli and they were the best spring ravioli I ever had in my life - fresh and green, not too heavy and packed with flavour. From now on, Dario is my favourite Sicilian chef. His approach to food, the honesty and restraint in his recipes, the Sicilian way of playing with contrasting aromas, and his focus on only the best quality ingredients often imported from Sicily by himself, impressed me and made my taste buds jump.

Thank you for everything, you wonderful people at Villa Kennedy!

I can also recommend joining the Friday Chef's Table if you happen to be in Frankfurt - it's a gathering around the table in the Gusto kitchen to see and smell how you're food is prepared.

Dario Cammarata's Herb Ricotta Ravioli

Serves 6

For the pasta dough

• plain flour 250g / 2 cups

• durum wheat semolina 250g / 9 ounces

• fine sea salt 1 teaspoon

• egg yolks 15

• olive oil 3 tablespoons

For the filling

• fresh ricotta 250g / 9 ounces

• a mix of 7 herbs: borage, chervil, garden cress, parsley, pimpinella (salad burnet), sorrel, chives, the leaves finely chopped, 1 large bunch

• fresh basil leaves, finely chopped, 1 small handful

• fresh mint leaves, finely chopped, 6, or a little lemon zest (optional)

• Parmesan, freshly grated, 150g / 5 ounces

• fine sea salt

• ground pepper

For the topping

• butter, melted, about 6 tablespoons

• Parmesan, freshly grated, about 6 tablespoons

• fresh herbs, leaves only, 1 handful

• ground pepper

For the pasta dough, in a large bowl, combine the flour, semolina, and salt. Add the egg yolks and olive oil and mix for a few minutes until smooth and well combined, using your hands or the dough hooks of an electric mixer. Form a ball, wrap in cling film, and let it sit for 20 minutes.

For the filling, in a large bowl, add the ricotta and whisk in the chopped herbs and Parmesan until well combined. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

Using a pasta machine or rolling pin, roll the dough very thinly, you should be able to see your hand through the dough.

In a large pot, bring salted water to the boil.

To give the ravioli half moon-shapes, cut out circles using a 9cm / 3 1/2" cookie cutter. Put a spoonful of the filling in the middle of each circle and, using your finger, spread a little water all along the pasta rim. Fold half of the ravioli over to end up with a half moon-shape, push the rim well with your fingers to seal the filling inside.

Turn the water down to simmering and cook the ravioli for about 2-3 minutes or until al dente.Divide the ravioli between plates, drizzle with melted butter, and sprinkle with Parmesan, fresh herbs, and season with a little ground pepper.

Buon Appetito!

When you left Palermo at the age of 18, did you have a plan in mind, or a dream that you wanted to achieve? Or did you just jump into this big adventure?

I always wanted to become a chef, I already knew that at quite a young age. I didn't have a plan in mind but I had a goal. At the same time, I wanted to travel the world and I was after a job that would allow me to combine my two passions. It was a mix of planning and adventure, so when I finished school in Sicily at the age of 19, I packed my bags and left - off to Sirmione at Lake Garda. This was the beginning of my great dream and from then on it continued.

What did it mean to you to work in Michelin-starred restaurants in Italy, France, and Switzerland as a young man? What fascinated you about the work in these kitchens?

It meant a lot to me and it still does. I was particularly fascinated by these countries. I admire Italy and France's long kitchen traditions. So many amazing dishes and excellent chefs originated from these two cuisines. Switzerland, to me, stands for decades of tradition in the hotel business. They have outstanding houses with great restaurants.The amount of people working in Michelin-starred restaurants impressed me tremendously. At Badrutt's Palace, in Saint-Tropez, our kitchen team was made up of 61 people - it's unbelievable. I'm very proud of having worked there, and I wouldn't want to miss the experience, but it was never a must for me to work at these restaurants. It was far more important for me to learn about different countries and cultures and their traditions. Cooking connects us, to me it's easiest to understand various nations and habits through their cuisines.

What was the most important lesson you learned as a young chef?

Little things often have the greatest effects. Both positive and negative. This is what my boss in Saint-Tropez used to tell me and it became the cooking mantra of my life. It's the guideline I pass on to my team now.

You grew up with the Sicilian cuisine cooked by your Mamma Saveria, how did your home island's culinary traditions influence your style of cooking and your approach to food?

A lot! I wouldn't be the Dario I am today without the influences of my Sicilian home - and especially my Mamma. In particular when it comes to my cooking. At the age of 2 or 3, I already joined my Mamma in the kitchen. I didn't necessarily help her, but I tasted everything, and that's what I remember clearly. Already then, I was fascinated by the preparation of food and watching and learning at such a young age definitely affected my style of cooking, my outlook on produce, and the way I work with food.

If you had to point out the main differences between cooking and living in Italy and Germany, what would they be? What do you like about German cooking?

Italians live and eat differently to Germans. Italians "take their time for life", and food is a great part of it. To enjoy life is so important in the life of an Italian. Eating together is a feast, a celebration, no matter what we eat, what day of the week it is, or if we had a good or bad day. We savour the time together to the last second.Germans are more influenced by the experiences they had during the day - Italians aren't really like this. Eating together, being together, that's most important. What I like about German cooking, is that people start to go back to their roots. Regional produce, traditional recipes, and cultural gems are being re-discovered, that's great. This has always been important in Italian and French cuisine, so it's fantastic that more and more German chefs and cooks follow this trend.

Where do you find inspiration for new recipes?

Preferably directly at the farmers' market. Seasonal fresh produce inspires me, many of my ideas come up right there. I like the combination of tradition and new takes on recipes, this adds new qualities to a dish. And I love running, it allows my mind and creativity to be free, it relaxes me but at the same time it sparks lots of new ideas that I want to try in the kitchen immediately.

What do you miss the most about Sicily?

The sea! And the smell of the Zagara (orange blossom) flower. I really miss it. When I see the sea and I have this smell in my nose, I know that I'm home. And, of course, I miss my Mamma's cooking! That's why I imported her to Germany (see the Villa Kennedy Mamma's Menu in my introduction).

Who is your biggest inspiration in the kitchen?

My Mamma! Like I said, she inspired me at a very young age and from her, I learned about all the traditional Sicilian recipes, which I'm very grateful for. Another inspiration for my career was the chef Ludovic Laurenty, my boss at Château de Pray (in the Loire Valley). He taught me the importance of staying calm - he used to be the calmest person ever. I learned a lot from him and I still think a lot of him, like all the other chefs I've worked with - you take a piece of each of them with you.

What was the first dish you cooked on your own, what is your first cooking memory?

Involtini di melanzane (eggplant rolls), I was 15 and I cooked them for a good friend of mine. Typically Sicilian, it's an easy dish and still one of my favourites. You should try it!

What are your favourite places to buy and enjoy food in Palermo and in Frankfurt? 

In Sicily, I like to go to Bisso Bistrot in Palermo. It's a cosy, friendly, and original Sicilian restaurant. In Frankfurt, I regularly go to the Kleinmarkthalle (a farmers' market hall), here you can buy and eat food at the same time. First, I choose the fresh produce I need and then I enjoy a glass of wine and some antipasti. In Wiesbaden, where I live, I like to go to Gusto E. A former colleague of mine runs this pretty little restaurant, I always get a warm welcome and scrumptious food.

If you could choose one person to cook a meal for you, who and what would it be?

The Sicilian director Giuseppe Tornatore. His movies open my heart - not just because he's Sicilian (laughing). He seems to be a great guy and I love his way of making movies, he carries a lot of Sicily out into the world, that always impressed me. I would make cannoli with him. It's typical for our home island and I'd love to go to the farmer together with Giuseppe to buy ricotta, or we'd make our own. Maybe he would even put this scene into one of his next movies.

You're going to have ten friends over for a spontaneous dinner, what will be on the table?

Parmigiana - I love this vegetable-Parmesan-casserole dish. It's the taste of Sicily. Pasta is next, I would see what fits to the season. If my friends came over in the spring, I'd make orecchiette with fava beans, fresh tomatoes, prawns, pine seeds, and basil. Fish as main, two oven-roasted sea bass with lots of herbs and lemon, and tiramisu or a tart with fresh raspberries as dessert.

What was your childhood's culinary favourite and what is it now?

My Mamma'sParmigiana. It's always been my favourite and it still is. Whenever I go to Siciliy, I can be sure to find it on my Mamma's table - she knows me too well.

Do you prefer to cook on your own or together with others?

I never cook alone. Cooking connects us and it's far more fun to do it together with others. Even if someone just watches. I love to cook together with my wife and my three kids. Cooking on my own is boring.

Which meals do you prefer, improvised or planned?

I prefer to improvise. It bores me to plan every single detail. When you improvise, you can change and adjust and create something new. That keeps it interesting.

Which meal would you never cook again?

That's not easy... 4 years ago, we had the final for a national cooking competition at the Villa Kennedy. Private cooks presented their own creations and I helped them with a little advice here and there, but I wasn't allowed to change much. I see myself as quite open-minded, but one of the finalists made salmon with celery cream and mascarpone, I never ever want to eat this again. The recipe lost the competition by the way.

Thank you Dario!

Tsoureki - Greek Braided Easter Bread with Aniseed and Orange Blossom Water

Patience is a tricky thing, I feel it growing with every year I gain, but it still manages to drive me crazy at times. After about one year of working on my cookbook, eat in my kitchen, developing the recipes, cooking, baking and shooting them all by myself, then going through a long process of filling the pages with my little stories connected to each and every dish, I feel a rising impatience to bring this project to an end. Month after month of working closely with my fantastic team in New York, Munich, Berlin, and London, having a daily exchange and constant flow of ideas between me and my editors, photo retoucher, and book designer; all this leaves me hungry. I want to hold the fruit of our work in my hands so badly. My friends constantly make little jokes about me as they only see me with my laptop, glued to my chair at our long wooden dining table, which I turned into my office, or busy in the kitchen. To them, it seems like I, the chair, and the table have become one in the past year.

In German, there is a beautiful word called Vorfreude, which you could translate to the happy excitement you feel connected to a positive event lying in the future. This Vorfreude keeps me going. Sometimes I just feel my heart jump, when I think of the dedication I wrote on one of the first pages of my book for someone who means a lot to me, when I virtually thumb through the pages of my book which is still a file on my computer, or when I first saw the cover design, which I'll share with you soon! And I'm willing to wait for these moments, I'm willing to wait to make this book better and better with every correction, addition, and change we make, and then one day, it will be printed and I'll look at it and remember all the excitement, happiness, and frustration that's woven into every single page of it.

Baking can be a good teacher for life and a master when it comes to patience, especially baking with yeast. It will be Easter Sunday in a week and a sweet braided yeast bread is one of the most delicious and fragrant treats that one can have on the breakfast or coffee table on this special day. But this bread takes its time, you can't really rush - although I still try and succeed by letting the dough rise in the warm oven. It's a little quicker but you still have to be patient. 

This year I go for a traditional Greek Easter bread called Tsoureki. It's soft and fluffy, enriched with butter and eggs, and flavoured, often refined with mahlep, a ground spice made of wild cherry seeds, and mastic, sun-dried resin. More modern variations feature vanilla and cardamom but I was after a different flavour combination: aniseed and orange blossom. Years ago, I spent a couple weeks on the Greek island of Naxos and I enjoyed one of the fluffiest yeast buns with aniseed and orange in the shade of an old chapel high up on a hill. This picture in mind, I knew what my Tsoureki would taste like. It smells so beautiful and aromatic like the air in the Mediterranean, anise and orange merged in a scrumptious breakfast bread sprinkled with nutty sesame. I only left it in the oven for a little too long, just a couple minutes, but I have an excuse. Two of my cousins stopped by for an unexpected quick visit, a family chat at the table and the bread was forgotten. At one point I thought "Wow, it smells so good!", so I ran to the oven and pulled out this nicely risen beauty (with a dark bottom).

Here's another sweet braided bread I made and shared 2 years ago.

Tsoureki - Greek Easter Bread with Aniseed and Orange Blossom Water

Makes 1 large loaf

• plain flour 520g / 4 cups

• granulated sugar 100g / 1/2 cup

• fast-acting yeast 1 sachet (7g / 1/4 ounce)

• fine sea salt 1/2 teaspoon

• aniseed, lightly crushed in a mortar, 2 teaspoons

• zest of 1 small orange

• milk, lukewarm, 150ml / 2/3 cup

• unsalted butter, melted, 100g / 1/3 cup plus 2 tablespoons

• organic eggs 2

• orange blossom water 2 tablespoons

• sesame seeds, for the topping, 1-2 tablespoons

For the glaze

• organic egg yolk 1

• water 1 tablespoon

In a large bowl, combine the flour, sugar, yeast, salt, aniseed, and orange zest. Whisk together the milk, butter, eggs, and orange blossom water - the mixture should be lukewarm - and add to the flour mixture. Using the dough hooks of an electric mixer, knead for about 5 minutes until well combined and smooth. Continue kneading and punching with your hands for about 7 minutes until you have a soft and silky ball of dough. Place the dough back in the bowl, cover with a tea towel, and let rise in a warm place, or preferably in a 100°F (35°C) warm oven, for 100 minutes or until well risen (it won't double in size). Rising at room temperature prolongs the process.

Punch the dough down, take it out of the bowl, and knead for about 30 seconds, then divide into 3 parts and roll them into long sausage shapes. Lay the ends of the rolls on top and braid them tightly. Bend both ends of the bread under the loaf and transfer to a baking sheet lined with parchment paper. Cover with a tea towel and let it rise in a warm place for 50 minutes or until fluffy.

Preheat the oven to 180°C / 350°F (conventional setting).

Whisk the egg yolk and water for the glaze and brush the top of the loaf, sprinkle with sesame. Bake in the oven for 40-50 minutes, cover the loaf with aluminium foil after 15 minutes to prevent it from getting too dark. When the bread is done, it should be golden brown, knock on its bottom, it should sound hollow. Let it cool for a few minutes before cutting it into thick slices, and enjoy with butter.

Pumpkin Quiche with Taleggio and Crisp Sage

A quiche was one of the first savoury recipes that I made on my own and actually enjoyed. Learning to cook takes time but once you succeed, you get hooked on it. Whenever friends and family asked me to chip in with a dish for a birthday party, I used to make my quiche and felt more than happy about the applause I got for it. In the beginning, I used a more basic filling of leeks, tomatoes, and thyme, but then I got experimental: be it my Italian fennel tart, the combination of artichokes, olives, and Gruyère, spinach and gorgonzola, or green beans and ramps - I love them all. There are boundless possibilities to follow the seasons and your mood. However, its greatest quality is the buttery, flaky, utterly tempting pastry base. It's light and crisp and tastes so good that it wouldn't even need any topping.

One of the best ways to enjoy a quiche, is at a picnic on a lazy summer's day, but the warmer season is still far away, so I choose a filling that fits the cold and moody weather of March and goes well for a Sunday brunch with friends. I go for pumpkin, Taleggio, and crispy sage leaves fried in butter. It's pure comfort food. Usually, I like my quiche recipes warm or cold, I have no preference, but this recipe here is best when it's still warm. The soft cheese spreads its aroma and sinks into the sweet squash and woody-earthy sage. It's happy-making food.

I developed this quiche recipe for the West Elm blog, where you can also find this recipe and the long (!) wooden chopping board, the linen napkin, and stoneware plates. This post was sponsored by West Elm to make my kitchen a little prettier!

Pumpkin Taleggio Quiche with Crisp Sage

Makes a 30cm / 12″ quiche

For the filling

• seeded pumpkin, peeled butternut squash or Hokkaido with skin, 600g / 1 1/3 pounds

• olive oil 1 tablespoon

• flaky sea salt

• ground pepper

• organic eggs 3

• heavy cream 125ml / 1/2 cup

• sour cream 175g / 3/4 cup

• fine sea salt 1 teaspoon

• nutmeg, preferably freshly grated, a generous amount

• Taleggio (or another aromatic semi-soft cheese), diced, 150g / 5 ounces

• butter 3 tablespoons

• large fresh sage leaves 50

• black peppercorns, crushed in a mortar

For the pastry

• plain flour 260g / 2 cups

• salt 1 teaspoon

• butter, cold 130g / 4 1/2 ounces

• organic egg 1

Preheat the oven to 200°C / 400°F (conventional setting). Line a large baking dish with parchment paper.

Cut the pumpkin into 5cm / 2" wedges and place them in the lined baking dish. Drizzle with the olive oil, use your hands to toss and coat the squash in the oil. Sprinkle with flaky sea salt and pepper and roast for 15 minutes. Turn the squash wedges over and continue roasting for about 15 minutes or until golden brown and soft when pricked with a fork. Cut the wedges in half lengthwise and set aside.

For the pastry, combine the flour and salt in a large bowl. Add the butter and use a knife to cut it into the flour until there are just small pieces left. Quickly rub the butter into the flour with your fingers until combined. Add the egg and mix with the dough hooks of an electric mixer until crumbly. Form the dough into a thick disc, wrap it in plastic wrap, and freeze for 12 minutes.

Place the dough between 2 sheets of plastic wrap and use a rolling pin to roll out into a disc, large enough to line the bottom and sides of a 30 cm / 12" quiche dish. Fit the dough into the quiche dish, pushing it into the dish, especially along the edges. Let the dough hang over the rim a little or cut it off with a knife. Use a fork to prick the dough all over. Bake for 15 minutes or until golden. If the dough bubbles up, push it down with a fork.

Take the baking dish out of the oven and set the temperature down to 180°C / 350°F.

For the filling, whisk the eggs, heavy cream, sour cream, salt, pepper and nutmeg.

Arrange the pumpkin in a circle on top of the pre-baked pastry and sprinkle with the taleggio. Pour the egg-cream mixture over the squash and bake for about 55 minutes or until golden brown, the top should be firm.

While the quiche is in the oven, cook the sage: Lay a kitchen paper on a large plate. Heat the butter in a large, heavy pan on medium-high heat. When the butter is sizzling, spread the sage in the pan and roast for about 20 seconds or until golden, turning the leaves gently once or twice. Mind that they don't become dark. Take the pan off the heat and immediately transfer the sage leaves to the plate lined with kitchen paper.

When the quiche is done, let it cool for 10-15 minutes, then cover with the sage leaves and sprinkle with crushed pepper, serve warm.

Carrot and Pineapple Muffins with Hazelnuts

The secret ingredient to my favourite carrot cake is puréed pineapple, it makes the batter nice and light and adds subtle fruitiness. Our cake-loving granny Doris from Florida introduced me to her little masterpiece when I visited her in the sunshine state for the first time a few years ago. Although it wasn't the only treat she prepared for us - she's a grandma after all, so she made sure that our plates were never (!) empty -  it was the one that struck me the most. I must have eaten the whole cake on my own, it's addictive and I loved it! It's made with sunflower oil instead of butter, which I'm usually not that fond of, but here it doesn't disturb the flavours and makes a very nice and fluffy texture. Refined with my beloved cinnamon, it's a fragrant cake that fits perfectly to a late Sunday breakfast in spring. The temperatures are far from springy here in Berlin so I need a bit of imagination, but never mind, my heart is already set on the next season.

So what works in a cake, also works in a muffin. It's just quicker and easier to prepare and you can even skip the icing of the cake, which turns the whole thing into a richer treat (but if you're up for it, you can find the recipe for my cream cheese icing in the link to the carrot cake). I often use canned pineapple in this recipe, drained and squeezed, I'm after sweetness so if you can't find the freshest, juiciest, and sweetest fruit, go for the can. The amounts of the cake ingredients needed a few adjustments to turn into muffins but the results are actually quite similar: they have the same light texture, beautiful aroma, and I can't stop eating the muffins either.

Carrot and Pineapple Muffins with Hazelnuts

Makes 12 muffins

• plain flour 260g / 2 cups

• granulated sugar 150g / 3/4 cup

• baking powder 3 teaspoons

• baking soda 1/2 teaspoon

• fine sea salt 1/8 teaspoon

• ground cinnamon 2 1/2 teaspoons

• sunflower oil 120ml / 1/2 cup

• pineapple (canned or fresh), drained and lightly squeezed (canned fruit), and puréed, 150g / 5 ounces

• organic eggs 3

• carrots, grated, 150g / 5 ounces

• hazelnuts, chopped, 1 small handful, for the topping

• paper baking cups 12

Set the oven to 180°C / 350°F (preferably convection setting) and line the 12 molds of a muffin tray with paper baking cups.

In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and cinnamon.

Whisk together the sunflower oil, puréed pineapple, and eggs.

Pour the pineapple-oil mixture along with the carrots into the bowl with the flour mixture and stir with a wooden spoon until you have a lumpy dough, with a bit of flour left here and there. Keep in mind, the more you mix it, the more it will lose its light texture. Divide the dough between the muffin cups and sprinkle with the chopped hazelnuts. Bake for about 20-22 minutes (slightly longer if using a conventional oven) or until the muffins are firm on top. Let them cool for 1-2 minutes before you take the muffins out of the tray.

You can keep the muffins in an airtight container for up to 2-3 days.

meet in your kitchen | Sami Tamimi's Kofta b'siniyah with Tahini Sauce

If you love cooking and cookbooks, you've probably come across Sami Tamimi's name, either on the cover of Ottolenghi: The Cookbook or Jerusalem - both award-winning bestsellers. But who is the man who co-wrote these beautiful recipe collections and started some of the most talked about restaurants on the London food scene together with his friend from Israel? While the whole world seeks fame and attention, what drives a man to stay in the background and concentrate on what he loves the most: to cook and create recipes? The more I got to know about Sami, the more I understood his decision to be the chef in the kitchen and not the star in the spotlight.

Growing up in the Old City of East Jerusalem and feeling the restrictions of life in a traditional Muslim family, he left home at the age of seventeen and headed to Tel Aviv. The ambitious young man worked hard and became a chef at one of the country's best restaurants. But Sami was hungry, he wanted to learn and evolve even more: London was next and with it the beginning of a beautiful story of friendship, great food, and success. A story of two men, whose ideas, dreams, and creativity are inseparably woven into each other.

Sami and Yotam first met at Baker & Spice in London, where Sami had developed a food concept quite similar to the one we know from the Ottolenghi restaurants in Islington, Belgravia, Notting Hill, and Spitalfields. Lusciously filled platters of Middle Eastern and Mediterranean dishes, so pleasing to the eyes that one can't help but stop at the first glance. You might not be hungry, but after a quick look through the large windows you'll fall for the tempting displays - they seem to call your name.

Yotam must have felt the same when he passed the restaurant back in 1999. He hopped off his scooter and started talking to Sami. They got along well straight away, so he joined him in the kitchen, and became responsible for the pastry. What happened next is one of the many reasons I love life: a simple idea became reality through hard work and dedication. They decided to open their own place and put their individual skills together to make it happen. The rest is history. In its honesty, Sami's view of the story touches me: “It was Yotam’s vision and his dream. The work was his. The stake was his. I didn’t have money to invest. He risked everything he had. A few years later, I became a partner, but regardless of the cookbooks we do, regardless of our friendship, I’m still working for Yotam. He’s my boss”. But as much as his friend was the visionary, in the end it was also Sami's creative concept for food, which became what we know as Ottolenghi today. These two men, aware of their individual strengths, put it all together and turned it into something greater.

Having cooked and baked with Jerusalem, enjoying it every time I pull it off my shelf, it felt even more exciting to choose one of the recipes from the book together with Sami to share with you. We didn't manage to meet in London, but cooking his kofta here in Berlin, working on the interview with him, and learning so much about and from this inspiring man, made me feel once more that the kitchen is often the best place to get to know someone.

I made Sami's kofta and I loved it. It was nothing less than heavenly: the little oval meatballs are juicy, packed with nutty pine, parsley, spicy garlic and chilli. Sami lays them on a tahini-lemon sauce, a smooth and creamy contrast to the fragrant meat. It's one of those dishes that make you wish you had made twice as much.

Here's a great article by Jane Kramer about Yotam and Sami in The New Yorker, which I can recommend if you need a little inspiration for life.

Sami Tamimi's Kofta b'siniyah

Recipe from Jerusalem by Yotam Ottolenghi and Sami Tamimi.

For these kofta, buy your meat freshly minced by your butcher, if you can. The lamb should be shoulder and the beef a good non-stewing cut. If you get the meat from a supermarket or another grocer, cook it through, just to be on the safe side. Finish the dish with butter only if you are serving it straight away and consuming it all at once. Otherwise, leave it out as it sets quickly, which isn't very nice. Serve with pita (I used ciabatta).

Serves 6 / makes 18 kofta

For serving

• light tahini paste 150g / 5 ounces

• freshly squeezed lemon juice 3 tablespoons

• water 120ml / 1/2 cup

• medium garlic clove, crushed, 1

• sunflower oil 2 tablespoons

• unsalted butter or ghee 30g / 2 tablespoons (optional)

• sweet paprika, to garnish

• fine sea salt

For the kofta

• minced lamb 400g / 14 ounces

• minced veal or beef 400g /14 ounces

• onion, finely chopped, 1 (about 150g / 5 ounces)

• large garlic cloves, crushed, 2

• toasted pine nuts, roughly chopped, 50g / 2 ounces, plus extra whole ones to garnish

• flat-leaf parsley leaves, finely chopped, 30g / 1 ounce, plus extra to garnish

• large medium-hot red chilli, deseeded and finely chopped, 1

• ground cinnamon 1 1/2 teaspoons

• ground allspice 1 1/2 teaspoons

• grated nutmeg 3/4 teaspoon

• ground black pepper 1 1/2 teaspoons

• fine sea salt 1 1/2 teaspoons

If the tahini-lemon sauce starts to curdle, slowly add more water and continue whisking or pulsing it in a blender until smooth.

Put all the kofta ingredients in a bowl and use your hands to mix everything together. Now shape into long, torpedo-like fingers, roughly 8cm / 3" long. Press the mix to compress it and ensure the kofta is tight and keeps its shape. Arrange on a plate and chill until you are ready to cook them, for up to 1 day.

Preheat the oven to 220°C / 425°F. In a medium bowl, whisk together the tahini paste, lemon juice, water, garlic, and 1/4 teaspoon of salt. You can also use a blender or food processor. The sauce should be a bit runnier than honey; add 1-2 tablespoons of water if needed.

Heat the sunflower oil in a large pan and sear the kofta, in batches, over high heat. Sear on all sides until golden brown, for about 6 minutes. At this point they should be medium-rare. Transfer the kofta to a baking dish and cook in the oven for 2-4 minutes (medium or well done). I cooked mine for 8 minutes in the pan and skipped the oven. I spread the tahini sauce on plates and laid the kofta on top, then I continued with the garnish.

Spoon the tahini sauce around the kofta, so it covers the base of the baking dish. Place in the oven for 1-2 minutes to warm up the sauce.

Meanwhile, if you're using the butter, melt it in a small saucepan and allow it to brown a little, taking care that it doesn't burn. Spoon the butter over the kofta as soon as they come out of the oven. I skipped the butter and used the frying juices from the pan instead. Scatter with pine nuts and parsley and finally sprinkle some paprika on top. Serve immediately.

What made you leave Israel and move to London?

I’d been cooking for many years in Israel. After a good time at Lilith, one of the top restaurants in the country, I was beginning to reach my full potential. I knew if I wanted to keep learning and growing I’d need to look further afield. I’d visited London a few times and fallen in love with it so it was the obvious place to go. The political situation was also getting worse by then and the levels of stress were getting higher. I wanted a change from that.

You say you're more into savoury than sweet baking, what do you like about the process of creating savoury recipes? Why do you prefer it to sweets?

I find I have more creative freedom with savoury cooking. Baking and sweet cooking in general is often quite a science: everything needs to be measured for the result to work out. What goes into savoury cooking can change much more, depending on the day and the mood and what you have to hand. I love that freedom. Also, I can’t stand all the flour that gets everywhere! I like my kitchen clean and tidy.

You lived in Tel Aviv for 12 years, a city known for its vibrant food scene, what makes it so special? What do you miss the most about the food in Israel?

I haven’t lived in Tel Aviv for 17 years so the food scene has changed a lot. I guess what makes it vibrant is people’s passion for the food and people often basing their social life around food. There are a lot of young people who travel the world from Tel Aviv and then return with all sorts of knowledge about different cuisines: that makes it a really creative place.

Do you find creative inspiration in the British cuisine? Do you have a favourite British dish?

We have some wonderful products and raw ingredients here, which are a constant inspiration. There are also a few local chefs who I get a lot of inspiration from: Simon Hopkinson and Nigel Slater, to name just two. I’ve lived in the UK for many years now so I have come to love some of the classic British dishes: Apple or pear and rhubarb crumble, beef wellington and so on.

Is it harder or easier to work with a close friend (Yotam Ottolenghi)? How did your friendship change through the experience of writing books and running restaurants together?

Yotam and I started to work together long before Ottolenghi was born. Combining friendship and business is not always a good thing but we’ve been doing it for many years now and have perfected the way of working together without it effecting our friendship. We see each other a lot and are constantly checking in with each other but our day-to-day jobs are very different. Yotam is based in the test kitchen and I am based in the restaurants so our roles are pretty separate from each other.

You've co-written Ottolenghi: The Cookbook andJerusalem, what is your favourite part of the process of writing a cookbook?

For Jerusalem, cooking at home, alone, in my kitchen and then sharing childhood memories and stories sparked from the food was my favourite part. The Ottolenghi: The Cookbook was harder for us: It’s the first child thing, you are making it up as you go along so it took longer to work out what we were doing! Jerusalem was easier technically but harder emotionally.

What advice can you give young chefs?

Being a chef is hard work: the stress levels are high, the hours are long and you don’t get to sit down or sleep much! Before you spend a lot of time and money going to cookery school, people should always do a stint in a commercial kitchen to see whether the job is for them. There is so much more to the job than just making food look pretty! You need to start with passion and love and then add some hard graft and dedication. And then you can start making the food look pretty!

You write poetry in Arabic and you paint, does this bring you relaxation or inspiration?Writing poetry, painting, photography, cooking, it’s all part of the same process, for me: a way of expressing myself, saying something about the world we are living in.

Do you like to cook at home?

Cooking at home is what keeps me in love with food. I cook at home every evening, even after a long day working with food.

Who is your biggest inspiration in the kitchen?

My mother. She was an amazing cook.

Was food, cooking, and eating a big topic in your family while growing up?

Yes, it was. The kitchen was the heart of the house and my family. When we were having breakfast we’d be discussing what to have for lunch. Chats at lunch were about what we were having for supper. Food was always on the go, being prepared or cooked.

What was the first dish you cooked on your own, what is your first cooking memory?

I cooked all the time, from a very young age: I’d be making it up if I said I could remember my first dish!

What are your favourite places to buy and enjoy food in London?

I tend to go to small Middle Eastern shops in west London for my food grocery because the fruit and vegetables come from sunny places and therefore they taste much better, plus I can find all the ingredients for Palestinian cooking.

If you could choose one person to cook a meal for you, who and what would it be?

My mother. Anything she will cook will be delicious.

You're going to have ten friends over for a spontaneous dinner, what will be on the table?

Many dishes to share and lots of food: if it was a Palestinian spread they’d be Maqluba, okra in tomato sauce, Bamieh Bil Zeit and Mujaddara, lentils and rice with lots of fried onions, to mention just three dishes.

What was your childhood's culinary favourite and what is it now?

I love Palestinian food and still do. I also love Japanese, Mexican, Thai and Nordic food.

Do you prefer to cook on your own or together with others?

When I'm at work then of course with others and it's much more fun. But when I’m cooking at home, I like to be alone, with music.

Which meals do you prefer, improvised or planned?

Some days I'll wake up with a dish in mind and then I'll make it but most times I just go to the shops and decide then, according to what I find and what's in season.

Which meal would you never cook again?

I have recently made Turkish Su Böreği or as some call it, water borek. I'll never attempt to do it again. It was so hard and complicated. The end result is delicious but honestly, I can live happily with myself knowing that I've cooked it once in my lifetime and I'll only be ever eating it in Turkey.

Thank you Sami!

Mozzarella di Bufala and Olive Tapenade Sandwich with Preserved Lemon

The best sandwiches are often the ones that are thrown together in just a few minutes. You grab whatever your fridge offers without overloading the whole composition and straining your taste buds. Just a few contrasting flavours and textures, the bread has to be fresh - soft and juicy to soak up the filling - and you're done.

Cheese is made for sandwiches and mozzarella is always a good choice, the creamier mozzarella di bufala or burrata are even better. A dark tapenade made of black olives, capers, and anchovy adds depth, refined with a handful of fresh parsley. This lies on a bed of arugula, the spicy leaves go so well with preserved lemons, which I use for the salty-sour topping. You can find them in big supermarkets but I recommend preserving your own. Tucked in a jar with lots of coarse sea salt for a month, the citrus fruit slowly becomes soft and ready to add some tangy bite to meat and vegetable dishes - or sandwiches.

I developed this sandwich recipe for the West Elm blog, where you can also find this recipe and the wooden chopping board you see in the pictures - it's just the right size for a loaf of bread and some cheese for late evening cravings on the sofa. The linen napkin and stoneware bowl and plate are also from their shop. This post was sponsored by West Elm to make my kitchen a little prettier!

Mozzarella di Bufala and Olive Tapenade Sandwich with Preserved Lemon

You can use leftover tapenade for spaghetti.

Makes 4 small sandwiches

For the olive tapenade

• pitted black olives, preferably Kalamata, 100g / 3 1/2 ounces

• flat-leaf parsley leaves 10g / 1 small handful

• small red onion, chopped, 1/2

• capers, preferably preserved in salt, rinsed and dried, 1 tablespoon

• anchovy filet, rinsed, 1 (optional)olive oil 6 tablespoons

• freshly squeezed lemon juice 1 tablespoon

• Dijon mustard 1 teaspoon

• ground pepper

For the sandwiches

• ciabatta, 8 small slices

• fresh rucola, 1 handful

• mozzarella di bufala, torn into small pieces, 125g / 4 1/2 ounces

• preserved lemon, thinly sliced, 1/4

• black peppercorns, crushed in a mortar

For the tapenade, purée the olives, parsley, onion, capers, anchovy (optional), olive oil, lemon juice, mustard, and pepper in a blender or food processor until smooth. Season with additional mustard, lemon juice, and pepper to taste.

Divide the rucola and mozzarella between 4 slices of bread and sprinkle with the tapenade, preserved lemon, and crushed pepper.

Provençal Pine Nut, Date, and Honey Tart

Berlin, March 2016:

I haven't left the country in a while and I'm starting to feel wanderlust. A few days in an old farmhouse somewhere in the soft hills of Tuscany, lonely walks along the endless beaches of breezy Brittany, or a lazy stroll through one of the ancient villages in the romantic Provençe. I wouldn't mind any of these tempting scenes, just far away, a different place, with different sights and smells, food, and languages to refresh my senses after too many months of being in the city.

Instead, I'm bound to my desk making the last decisions for my book, working on a few new projects, and thinking of recipes that can bring the sweet smell of traveling to my table. I'm quite obsessed with pine trees, I love their distinct, woody smell so much so that I even use a perfume that manages to capture this beautiful aroma of summer, sun, and sand in a little glass bottle. It's the smell of hot dry air mixed with the saltiness of the sea, where slim strips of pine forest become sandy beaches and end up in the gentle waves of the Mediterranean.

So, here's my cure: a Provençal pine nut tart filled with ground almonds, chopped dates, and honey, lying on top of a crisp short crust base. It's so fragrant, warm and sweet, a bit nutty, crunchy and soft, it's all you need when your heart is afar but you're still at home - in cold Berlin.

Provençal Pine Nut, Date, and Honey Tart

Makes a 23cm / 9″ tart

For the short crust base

• plain flour 200g / 1 1/2 cups

• granulated sugar 65g / 1/3 cup

• a pinch of salt

• butter, cold, 110g / 1/2 cup

• organic egg yolks 2

For the filling

• butter, at room temperature, 100g / 1/3 cup plus 1 tablespoon

• brown sugar 50g / 1/4 cup

• honey 50g / 2 1/2 tablespoons

• freshly grated orange zest 1 teaspoon

• freshly squeezed orange juice 1 tablespoon

• organic eggs 2

• ground almonds 100g / 3 1/2 ounces

• dates, finely chopped, 100g / 3 1/2 ounces

• pine nuts 100g / 3 1/2 ounces

For the pastry, combine the flour with the sugar and salt. Cut the butter with a knife into the flour until there are just little pieces of butter left. Continue with your fingers and rub the butter into the flour until combined. Add the egg yolks and continue mixing with the hooks of your mixer until you have a crumbly mixture. Form a thick disc, wrap in cling film, and put in the freezer for 12 minutes.

Set the oven to 200°C / 400°F (conventional setting).

Roll the dough out between cling film and line a 23cm / 9″ tart pan with the flat pastry. Prick with a fork and bake in the oven for 10 minutes until golden and crisp. Take the pan out of the oven and set aside.

For the filling, in a large bowl, using an electric mixer, beat the butter, sugar, honey, orange zest, and orange juice until creamy. Add the eggs, one at a time, mixing well in between until combined. Stir in the almonds and dates and mix until combined. Scrape the filling on top of the baked pastry, even it out, and spread the pine nuts on top. Push the nuts gently into the almond-butter mixture. Bake for 15 minutes, then turn the oven down to 180°C / 350°F, and bake for another 12 minutes or until the top is golden brown and firm. Let the cake cool for 10-15 minutes before you take it out of the pan.

Beetroot and Skordalia - a velvety Greek Garlic Potato Dip

If you feel like garlicky mayonnaise but you're pushed away by its oily heaviness, cook some garlic and potatoes, then throw them in a blender, and you'll end up with skordalia. This popular Greek dip has a similar smooth texture if you pulse it - it becomes thick, sticky, and starchy. The added olive oil adds a Mediterranean touch and taste to it and makes it feel like velvet. If you use a potato masher, which is more common, it will be more chunky, like mashed potatoes, so it really depends on what kind of dip you're after. I was in a mayonnaise kind of mood so the blender was my tool of choice.

Skordalia is a new discovery for me and I don't know how I never heard of it or tasted it before. I love Greek food, I've been to Greece, and I ate my way through countless Greek restaurants, but for whatever reason, I never had it on my plate until now. So I'm keeping up and made an extra large batch of it. To balance the sweetness of the potatoes and garlic, I brought in some earthy flavours: Beetroots cooked in their skins along with a bay leaf. Peeled and still warm, I cut the purple roots into wedges, and served them with generous (!) amounts of my creamy dip. Delicious!

Beetroot and Skordalia - a Greek Garlic Potato Dip

Serves 2

For the beets

• medium sized beetroots, unpeeled, 2

• bay leaves 2

• fine sea salt

For the skordalia

• peeled potatoes, diced, about 240g / 8 1/2 ounces

• large garlic cloves, unpeeled, 6

• olive oil 4 tablespoons

• fine sea salt

For the topping

• fresh thyme leaves, about 2 tablespoons

• flaky sea salt

• black peppercorns, crushed in a mortar

Cook the beetroot along with the bay leaves in plenty of salted water on medium heat for about 40-50 minutes or until tender. Check the roots with a metal skewer, they should almost feel soft. Rinse under cold water and let them cool for a few minutes before you peel off their skins. Cut each beetroot into 4 wedges.

In a medium pot, bring the potatoes in plenty of salted water to the boil and cook for 10 minutes. Add the garlic and cook for another 5 minutes or until the potatoes are soft. Drain and quickly rinse with cold water. Peel the garlic and add, along with the potatoes, to a blender or food processor. Add the olive oil and a little salt and pulse until smooth. Season with salt to taste. Divide the beetroot wedges and skordalia between plates and sprinkle with thyme, flaky sea salt and crushed pepper. Enjoy cold or warm.

Sticky Banana Ginger Bread

This cake tested my nerves - I needed two attempts to bring it to perfection. The first version tasted divine but was far too soggy and didn't bake through. I didn't mind and still ate half of it. But it didn't help, my pride as a baker made me go back to my kitchen and work on the texture.

Apart from its unsatisfyingly undone center, cake no. 1 had the advantage of the banana halves lying perfectly on top of the baked cake and the batter rising around it - quite dramatic. It was beautiful, but unfortunately, slightly burned as the temperature was too high from the start. Cake no. 2 decided to swallow the fruit and let it sink to the bottom. Not as pretty as the former but it had a scrumptious concentrated banana taste once you got to the sunken fruit.

The cake itself was inspired by Nigella Lawson's wonderful Fresh Gingerbread from her Domestic Goddess book, it's a recipe I truly adore. However there isn't much left of her original recipe, I only aimed for the stickiness, which she mastered to perfection. I added butter, more eggs and spices, and mashed bananas to my ginger bread. And some baking powder for more sponginess. After my disastrous first attempt, I decreased the amount of milk and turned down the heat. It looked completely different but tasted so, so good. The cakey bread (it's actually more of a cake than bread) is infused with the honey-sweet aroma of bananas, lots of freshly grated ginger, and warming cinnamon. It's so good that I forgave the bananas for their disappearing act.

Sticky Banana Ginger Bread

This recipe is also in my 2nd book, 365: A Year of Everyday Cooking & Baking (recipe no. 34).

Update March 16th, 2024 (last picture of this post): Today, I decided to decrease sweetness and go for

• 180g / 1/2 cup plus 1 tablespoon sugar beet syrup (or dark molasses)

• 50g / 1/4 cup brown sugar (or granulated sugar)

• The other ingredients / measurements didn’t change. I baked it for 60 minutes (so a bit shorter).

Makes 1 loaf

• 260g / 2 cups plain flour

• 1 teaspoon baking soda

• 1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder

• 1/8 teaspoon fine sea salt

• 120g / 1/2 cup butter, at room temperature

• 3 ripe bananas (2 mashed bananas, about 180g / 6 1/2 ounces, and 1 cut in half lengthwise)

• 200g / 1/2 cup plus 2 tablespoons sugar beet syrup (or dark molasses)

• 100g / 1/2 cup brown sugar (or granulated sugar)

• 1 generous tablespoon freshly grated ginger

• 2 teaspoons ground cinnamon

• 3 organic eggs

• 60ml / 1/4 cup whole milk

Preheat the oven to 160°C / 325°F (preferably convection setting). Line a 11 x 26 cm / 4 x 10" loaf pan with parchment paper.

Combine the flour, baking soda, baking powder, and salt.

In a large bowl, using an electric mixer, beat the butter until creamy. Add the mashed bananas, sugar beet syrup, sugar, ginger, and cinnamon and continue mixing until well combined. Add the eggs, one at a time, mixing well in between. In batches, add the milk and the flour mixture, alternating, about 1/3 at a time. Mix until just combined and no more flour is left. Scrape the batter into the prepared pan, lay the banana halves on top (cut side up), and bake for about 65-70 minutes (slightly longer if using a conventional oven) or until golden brown and firm on top. Insert a skewer, it should come out clean when the cake is done. Let the cake cool for at least 15 minutes before you take it out of the pan. Let it cool on a wire rack for another 15 minutes before taking it out of the parchment paper.

Sicilian Blood Orange, Olive, and Red Onion Salad

The past mornings have been rather cloudy and grey and to make it even worse, they pulled my beloved wild vine off the wall opposite my kitchen window, which I used to call my vertical garden - the poor thing damaged the bricks. My little garden is gone. So the mood hasn't been very uplifting. And as I sat at the table in my kitchen, chewing over a new exciting meet in your kitchen features that I've been working on over the past few days and that I'm eager to share with you, I had to decide to postpone it. The feature was supposed to be up on the blog this week, but unfortunately, my guest from afar - Australia - is opening his second restaurant and so busy that we couldn't finish the interview yet. I felt a bit sad, or rather frustrated, because I adore his work and I'm so curious to read his answers and to get to know him a bit better. In these moments, I can be like a little child, impatient and not willing to accept reality - in this case: having to wait.

Food is the best cure for disappointment, at least in my case, so I looked around my kitchen to see what I could use to throw together for a quick and uplifting lunch. As I spotted a bunch of ripe blood oranges, I remembered a Sicilian salad made with the sweet citrus fruits, olives, and red onions. I added some rucola, olive oil, flaky sea salt, and crushed peppercorns and enjoyed the colourful plate in front of me just as much as the fresh taste of this delicious composition. Needless to say, my mood was much better after the first bite. The sweetness of the oranges merges perfectly with the spicy rucola and onions and the dark and oily depth of the olives. And it's put together in just a few minutes - it's a keeper!

Blood Orange, Olive, and Red Onion Salad with Rucola

Serves 2-4

• fresh rucola leaves, 2 handfuls

• small blood oranges, peeled (outer skin and white pith), cut into rounds, 4

• small red onion, cut into slim rings, 1-2

• black olives with pit 12-16

• olive oil

• flaky sea salt

• black peppercorns, crushed in a mortar

Divide the rucola between plates. Lay the blood oranges, onion, and olives on top. Drizzle with some olive oil and season with flaky sea salt and crushed pepper to taste. Serve immediately, preferably with soft ciabatta.

Blueberry Lemon Cheese Babka

One of the first recipes that caught my attention as I thumbed through the pages of Yotam Ottolenghi and Sami Tamimi's book Jerusalem, was their gorgeous looking chocolate krantz cake - also known as babka. It's a Jewish classic - a sweet, soft twisted yeast cake that can be filled with chocolate, ricotta, cream cheese, almond paste, nuts, poppy seeds, or fruit butter. I knew this cake from Cynthia Barcomi's German book Backen, she sprinkles the loaf with crumbles and adds marzipan to the filling. I never tried it but the pictures in both books looked so tempting that I decided to give babka a go. I didn't even mind the overnight-preparation that Ottolenghi recommends - if you time it well, it's not a big deal. Yotam and Sami use water for the dough, Cynthia goes for milk, which I also did. It makes it rich like a brioche.

However, I didn't feel like dark chocolate but cream cheese, blueberries, and lemon zest. A bit of spring feeling packed in a Sunday breakfast treat. The cheese makes the yeast dough nice and juicy, the berries make it fruity and fresh. I can only imagine how wonderful this would be at an early summer picnic in May but let's not think about that for now. I made the dough in the evening before I went to bed and gave it a good 10 minutes of kneading until the soft butter, eggs, and milk were well combined and I held a silky, smooth ball of dough in my hands. After a night in the fridge it had risen slightly by the next morning, but hadn't doubled in size. Rolled out thinly and spread with the filling, it was a bit fiddly to roll it up into a log without loosing the blueberries. I wanted to add even more berries but it would have made it too stressful to keep them inside - so I went for less fruit and a chilled out mood instead. Twisting was next: If you have Ottolenghi's Jerusalem book at home, you can see how he does it, his technique is too complicated to explain and impossible if you want to fill your babka with cream cheese enriched with stiff egg whites and fruit. I followed Cynthia's method instead: I closed the roll into a ring and twisted it about seven times. When it comes to this kind of fragile kitchen projects, it's best to transfer your piece of art quickly and with confidence to a buttered pan - insecurity and hesitance would just make it harder to succeed. When this is done, the cake has to rise for an hour once again, so if you want to enjoy it for breakfast, you should get up in time. Once it's nice and puffy, the babka bakes in the oven for about 1 hour, but then it smells and tastes so wonderful that you don't mind the hours of work.

Blueberry Lemon Cheese Babka

Mind that the babka has to rise twice, the first time overnight (for about 8 hours) in the fridge.

Makes 1 loaf cake

For the dough

• plain flour 260g / 2 cups

• granulated sugar 50g / 1/4 cup

• fast-acting yeast 1 1/2 teaspoons

• fine sea salt 1/4 teaspoon

• milk, lukewarm, 60ml / 1/4 cup

• organic egg 1

• organic egg yolk 1

• butter, at room temperature, cut into small pieces, 75g / 1/3 cup

• oil, for the bowl

For the filling

• organic egg whites 2 plus 1 egg yolk

• a pinch of fine sea salt

• cream cheese, drained, 250g / 9 ounces

• granulated sugar 30g / 2 tablespoons

• vanilla pod, scraped, 1/4

• freshly grated lemon zest 1 heaping teaspoon

• fresh blueberries 150g / 5 1/4 ounces

For the glaze

• organic egg yolk 1

• milk 1 tablespoons

For the yeast dough, in a large bowl, combine the flour, sugar, yeast, and salt. Whisk the milk, egg, and egg yolk and add along with the butter to the flour mixture. Knead for about 10 minutes, starting with the dough hooks of an electric mixer and continue kneading and punching with your hands for a few minutes until you have a soft and silky ball of dough. Transfer to a clean, oiled bowl, cover with cling film and put in the fridge overnight.

The next morning, for the filling, beat the egg whites and salt until stiff. In a large bowl, whisk the cream cheese, egg yolk, sugar, vanilla seeds, and lemon zest until creamy. Gently fold in the beaten egg whites until combined.

Butter a 11 x 24cm / 4 x 9" loaf pan and line the bottom with a piece of parchment paper.Punch the dough down, take it out of the bowl, and knead for about 30 seconds. On a floured counter top, roll out the dough with a rolling pin into a 28 x 40cm / 11 x 16" rectangle. Spread the filling over the dough, leaving a 2cm / 3/4" rim, and sprinkle with the blueberries. Brush 1 of the shorter sides with cold water. Starting from the other short side, roll up the dough tightly into a thick log. Press to seal the end onto the roll and place the seam at the bottom. Gently stretch the roll a little and close into a ring, pushing the dough of both ends together to seal the filling inside (see the 5th row of pictures). Leaving the ring lying on the counter top, push the ring gently together, and, starting from the middle, carefully twist the roll about 3-4 times on the left side and then on the other side. The more you twist it, the more layers it will have, don't worry if it tears a bit. It should look like a thick spiral (see the 2nd row of pictures). Lift the roll with a large knife and quickly transfer to the prepared pan. Cover with a tea towel and let it rise in a warm place (I put it on the heater) for about 60-90 minutes or until puffy.

Preheat the oven to 190°C / 375°F (conventional oven).

For the glaze, whisk the egg yolk and milk.Brush the loaf with the glaze and bake in the oven for 35 minutes, then cover loosely with aluminium foil and bake for another 30 minutes or until golden brown and almost firm on top. Check with a skewer, it should come out almost clean. Take the pan out of the oven and let the cake cool for at least 10-15 minutes before you remove it from the pan. Enjoy slightly warm or cool.

Fennel Tomato Lasagna with Crunchy Bacon

A couple days ago, I went to a meeting that finished much earlier than expected. I stepped out into the street on that cold and grey morning and decided to squeeze in a quick coffee. Just a creamy cappuccino, a flaky chocolate croissant, and a peaceful moment to myself. I went to my favorite Italian deli for a bit of dolce vita - sipping a fantastic coffee while listening to the patron chatting with his customers in Italian, accompanied by a medley of Italian operas. A toddler giggled, two dogs observed the busy scene. The shelves around me presented a tempting selection of chiantis, pasta, polenta, capers, and bottarga. The counter right in front of me filled with various prosciuttos, salami, ciabatta sandwiches, and homemade pasta treats. And right next to it, bowls of every antipasti one can possibly think of. Just the thought of it makes me hungry again.

This is the kind of scene that makes you want to go straight to your kitchen, open a bottle of wine, and start cooking. Italian of course. The weather doesn't leave the slightest doubt that spring isn't near yet, so a hearty lasagna is the best thing to have on your plate. Mine is filled with lots of juicy tomatoes, roasted fennel seeds, and fennel bulb thinly sliced and sautéed, plus crunchy bacon bites, dried chili peppers, a bit of Parmesan, and a creamy béchamel sauce. At first, I wanted to combine the fennel with a meaty bolognese but then I remembered a pasta dish that I shared on the blog almost two years ago and that changed my mind. You could leave out the bacon, but I recommend leaving it in: the fennel seeds roast in the meat's salty juices and merge with the tinned tomatoes - and become a heavenly sauce. Layered with pasta sheets and the crisp fennel bulb, it's just what I want on a cold day in February.

Fennel Tomato Lasagna with Crunchy Bacon

Serves 4 to 6

For the béchamel sauce

• milk 700 ml / 3 cups

• a pinch of nutmeg, preferably freshly grated

• fine sea salt

• ground pepper

• unsalted butter 30g / 2 tablespoons

• plain flour 30g / 4 tablespoons

• large bay leaf 1

For the lasagna

• butter, for the baking dish

• olive oil

• cored fennel bulb, thinly sliced lengthwise, 340g / 12 ounces

• fine sea salt

• black peppercorns, crushed in a mortar

• thick-cut bacon, cut into very small cubes, 200g / 7 ounces

• fennel seeds 2 tablespoons

• garlic, crushed, 3 cloves

• small dried chili peppers, 2

• peeled whole tinned tomatoes, chopped, 1.2kg / 2 2/3 pounds

• no-boil lasagna noodles, about 250g / 9 ounces

• freshly grated Parmesan 100g / 3 1/2 ounces

For the béchamel sauce, combine the milk, nutmeg, and pinches of salt and pepper in a medium saucepan and bring to a boil. Immediately take the pan off the heat and set aside.

To make the roux for the béchamel, melt the butter in a clean medium saucepan over medium-high heat and as soon as it’s sizzling hot, whisk in the flour. Slowly pour the hot milk mixture into the roux and whisk until smooth. Add the bay leaf and simmer on low, whisking occasionally, for 2 to 3 minutes or until the texture starts to thicken. Remove and discard the bay leaf. Season to taste with nutmeg, salt, and pepper then cover, and set aside.

Preheat the oven to 180°C / 350°F (conventional setting) and butter a 26 x 20 cm / 10 x 8" baking dish (or a dish of roughly this size).

In a large, heavy pan, heat a generous splash of olive oil over medium-high heat and sauté the fennel slices in batches for about 1 minute per side or until golden and al dente. Spread out the fennel slices next to each other in the pan so that they cook evenly. Season with salt and pepper and transfer to a plate.

Put the pan back on the heat and cook the bacon over medium-high heat for about 7-10 minutes or until golden brown and crunchy. Add a little oil if necessary and stir once in a while. Scrape the bacon to the sides of the pan, add a little olive oil (if the pan is too dry) and the fennel seeds, garlic, and chili. Turn the heat down to medium and cook for 2 minutes, mind that the seeds don't turn too dark. Add the tomatoes, season with salt and pepper, and, stirring occasionally, cook for about 10 minutes over medium-high heat or until thickened. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Take the pan off the heat and set aside 3 tablespoons of the sauce (for the final layer of the lasagna).

Arrange a layer of pasta on the bottom of the buttered baking dish and spread with 1/3 of the tomato-bacon sauce and sprinkle with 1/4 of the béchamel. Top with 1/3 of the sautéed fennel and 1/4 of the Parmesan. Repeat to make 3 more layers, top the last layer with pasta. Sprinkle with the reserved 3 tablespoons of the tomato-bacon sauce and the remaining béchamel and Parmesan. Bake for 35-45 minutes (depending on the lasagna package instructions) or until the pasta is al dente. To brown the cheese a little, you can switch on the broiler for the last 1 to 2 minutes. Let the lasagna sit for 5 to 10 minutes before serving and sprinkle with some crushed peppercorns. Enjoy!

Earl Grey Biscotti with Almonds and Raisins

My perfect weekend includes a relaxed stroll through the market on Saturday morning (not too early though), a vast breakfast with bacon, eggs, and sandwiches, followed by some minor flat projects, such as rearranging a shelf in my kitchen. Not more than one shelf, it's the weekend after all. The afternoon can be filled with a walk at one of Berlin's lakes, or exploring an undiscovered neighbourhood and a hot chocolate at a cosy café. A visit to a couple exhibitions at some of my favourite museums in the city is also an option. There are always so many amazing art shows and at the moment, I'm far from keeping up. This week, it's Jackson Pollock at the KunstHalle showing his grand work Mural from 1943 and we managed to see it - it's breathtaking! In the evening, we may have some friends over for dinner, or maybe it's just the two of us enjoying a bottle of wine and an extensive meal. And if I'm lucky, we've got an invitation to a friend's house. This week it was my aunt Ursula and my uncle Uwe, their cooking is divine, the wine as well, and the company is always the best. I love to cook, especially in the evening, to calm down and relax after a busy day, but once in a while it feels so good when someone else takes care of you and invites you to join their scrumptious culinary adventures.

Sunday's next: Sleeping in is given, breakfast is a little more luscious than the day before and can easily extend into the early afternoon. I can't sit at the table and eat all day, I need a little activity even on a lazy Sunday, and some time on my own. So I bake, just me and my mixer, bowls, and sweets in the kitchen, some music from the vinyl player and I'm happy. I can't start my baking projects too late as at 6, the preparation of our weekly Sunday-pizza ritual begins.

In between, I also manage to squeeze in our obligatory tea time: A cup of English tea and some cookies. I made these Earl Grey biscotti with almonds and raisins a couple days ago and they taste so good that we enjoy them for breakfast, lunch, dessert, and tea time. The flowery aroma of the fragile tea leaves is present, I didn't aim for a subtle hint that makes you guess what this distinct taste might be. It's Earl Grey, presenting itself with confidence. I balance it out with the sweetness of the raisins, fruity orange zest, and the nutty almonds. They are nice and crunchy, perfect to dip into your tea or dark espresso, if that's your kind of thing.

If you feel like biscotti but you're not a big fan of Earl Grey, you can try these recipes here:

• Espresso Chocolate Biscotti

• Biscotti with a shot of Ouzo (inspired by my aunt Ursula)

Earl Grey Biscotti with Almonds and Raisins

For about 42 biscotti you need

• butter, melted, 100g / 1/3 cup plus 1 tablespoon

• Earl Grey tea leaves (loose leaf tea, not from tea bags) 3 1/2 tablespoons

• plain flour 400g / 3 cups

• baking powder 2 teaspoons

• granulated sugar 200g / 1 cup, plus more for sprinkling the biscotti

• freshly grated orange zest 2 teaspoons

• fine sea salt 1/4 teaspoon

• organic eggs 3raisins 100g / 3 1/2 ounces

• almonds, roughly chopped, 50g / 1 3/4 ounces

Preheat the oven to 180°C / 350°F (preferably convection setting) and line a baking sheet with parchment paper.

Whisk the tea leaves into the warm, melted butter and let it cool for a few minutes.

Combine the flour, baking powder, sugar, orange zest, and salt.

In a large bowl, using an electric mixer, beat the eggs until creamy, stir in the Earl Grey-butter mixture and mix until combined. Add the flour mixture and mix with the dough hooks of an electric mixer until just combined. Stir in the raisins and almonds, form a ball and divide it into 4 parts. Form each part into a long loaf shape (around 5cm / 2″ wide) and place them on the lined baking sheet. Bake for 25-28 minutes (slightly longer if using a conventional oven) or until golden. Take the loaves out of the oven and let them cool for 20 minutes.

Line a second baking sheet with parchment paper.

Carefully cut each loaf into 1 1/2cm / 1/2″ slices and transfer the biscotti to the lined baking sheets, sprinkle each one with a little sugar. Bake for 6 minutes, turn the biscotti over and sprinkle the other side with sugar. Bake for another 6 minutes or until golden brown. Transfer the biscotti to a wire rack and let them cool. Once completely cool, you can keep the biscotti in an airtight container for up to 10 days.

Potato and Apple Stuffed Cabbage Rolls with Walnut Butter and Gruyère

Here we are again: I've reached that critical time of the year - as always in February - when it's still all about cabbage and roots at the market, but I start dreaming of juicy tomatoes and cucumbers, sweet berries and peaches, and seafood dinners at the sea - my mind, impatient and hungry, is already settled in summer.

Luckily, February is quite a short month, then we have March, which at least offers ramps towards its end. In April I can feel the sun getting warmer, the sky becomes brighter, and the produce on my counter tops slowly starts to look more colorful. But for now, I must wait and enjoy what I've got - a beautiful crisp head of cabbage.

I blanched the large outer cabbage leaves and stuffed them with boiled potatoes, sour apple, fresh thyme, and a few spoonfuls of mascarpone, instead of sour cream, to bind the mixture. My personal highlight was the topping of crunchy walnut butter and freshly grated Gruyère. Any aromatic hard cheese would work here, but there's something about this combination of the roasted nuts and this slightly sweet Swiss cheese that fits perfectly to these little wintery cabbage packages.

Potato and Apple Stuffed Cabbage Rolls with Walnut Butter and Gruyère

For the cabbage rolls

• large white or green cabbage leaves 8

• peeled potatoes, boiled and chopped, about 250g / 9 ounces

• small apple, peeled, cored and chopped, 1

• fresh thyme leaves 1 tablespoon

• mascarpone (or sour cream or ricotta) 3 tablespoons

• organic egg 1

• nutmeg, preferably freshly grated

• fine sea salt

• ground pepper

• white wine

For the walnut butter

• butter 60g / 1/4 cup

• walnuts, roughly chopped, 25g / 1 ounce

For the topping

• Gruyère, or any aromatic hard cheese, finely grated, about 2 tablespoons

• a few fresh thyme leaves

• black peppercorns, crushed in a mortar

For the cabbage leaves, take a large cabbage head and trim the bottom. Carefully peel off 8 large outer leaves. If they tear a little, it's fine. You'll only need 4-5 blanched leaves, blanch the remaining leaves to cover torn patches in the leaves that you use for the rolls.

Preheat the oven to 200°C / 400°F.

In a large pot, bring salted water to the boil and blanch the cabbage leaves for about 4-6 minutes or until tender. Rinse quickly under cold water, drain and cut out the hard stalk (in a slim triangle-shape).

For the filling, in a large bowl, combine the boiled potatoes, apple, and thyme. Whisk together the mascarpone and egg and season with salt, pepper and nutmeg. Add to the potato-apple mixture, stir to combine, and season with salt and pepper to taste.

Lay 4-5 cabbage leaves flat on the kitchen counter and cover torn parts with soft pieces of the remaining leaves. Put a generous tablespoon of the filling in the middle of each cabbage leaf, fold up the sides and roll it up, starting from the side of the stalk. Don't worry if they don't look perfect, mine didn't either. They can all have their individual shape.

Transfer the cabbage rolls to a baking dish and cover the bottom with a splash of white wine and some water. Bake in the oven for about 30-35 minutes or until golden and firm.

While the cabbage rolls are baking in the oven, prepare the walnut butter: In a small saucepan, melt the butter on high heat. When it's sizzling hot, add the walnuts and turn the heat down to medium. Roast for 10-20 seconds or until golden but not dark. Take the saucepan off the heat.

Divide the cabbage rolls between plates and drizzle with a little butter. Sprinkle with the roasted walnuts, fresh thyme, Gruyère, and crushed pepper.

Ricotta Polenta Almond Cake with Poppy Seeds and Lemon

No flour again! After my Spanish Almond Tart with Blood Orange, I got a little hooked on no-flour cakes. I don't follow a gluten-free diet - luckily, my diet is far from this - it's just for the fun of it. The texture is different when you work with ground nuts instead of wheat or spelt, it's more juicy, and here, the polenta adds some crunchiness. I've already experimented with a few polenta-almond combinations and enjoyed this one a lot: poppy seeds, ricotta, and lemon. I use ground poppy seeds, they don't look as pretty in the cake but they have a richer aroma than the whole seeds. The juice and zest from the citrus fruit makes it nice and fresh and helps me to forget that the variety of fruits that I can use for my baking projects is still quite limited. It's mainly citrus, apple, and pear but I'm coping. Only a few more months left and all those berries will be back in my kitchen.

This weekend, I'm spending some quality time with my mother. It's carnival and, according to our annual family tradition, we all meet in the countryside to make Berliner (jam filled German doughnuts). We dress up funny (some of us) and listen to silly music, it's actually so silly that it's better to drink some wine or Champagne while it's on to stand its distinct humour. Two years ago, I wrote about this family feast and shared the recipe for our sweet treat. If you're up for it - carnival isn't over yet - here's the recipe. And if you prefer the Greek version, here are my Loukoumades with Honey, Cinnamon, and Pistachios.

Ricotta Polenta Almond Cake with Poppy Seeds and Lemon

Makes 1 cake

• ground skin-on almonds 150g / 5 1/2 ounces

• fine polenta 80g / 3 ounces

• baking powder 2 teaspoons

• fine sea salt 1/8 teaspoon

• unsalted butter, at room temperature, 100g / 1/3 cup plus 2 tablespoons

• granulated sugar 200g / 1 cup

• organic eggs 4

• fresh ricotta 100g / 3 1/2 ounces

• freshly grated lemon zest 3 tablespoons

• freshly squeezed lemon juice 3 tablespoon

• spoppy seeds (preferably ground) 50g / 2 ounces

For the topping

• icing sugar, sifted

• freshly grated lemon zest 1 teaspoon

Preheat the oven to 180°C / 350°F (preferably convection setting). Butter a 20-cm / 8-inch springform pan.

In a medium bowl, combine the ground almonds, polenta, baking powder, and salt.

In a large bowl, use an electric mixer to beat the butter and sugar for a few minutes until light and fluffy. Add the eggs, one at a time, mixing well in between until creamy. Add the ricotta, lemon zest, and juice and beat for about 1 minute until combined. Using a wooden spoon, stir in the almond-polenta mixture and the poppy seeds until well combined. Spread the batter evenly in the prepared pan and bake for about 35-40 minutes (slightly longer if using a conventional oven) or until golden brown and firm on top. If you insert a skewer in the centre of the cake, it should come out clean. Let the cake cool for 10 minutes, then take it out of the pan. Dust with icing sugar and sprinkle with a little lemon zest.

Beet Ricotta and Roast Shallot Sandwich with Spinach and Fried Thyme

Few things frustrate me as much as trying to make vegetable chips and failing completely. The kitchen is in mess, everything is coated in a layer of oil (including myself) and the result is so hopelessly bad that it has to go right into the bin. My parsnip chips from a couple months ago turned out so perfectly that I felt brave enough to think it would be that easy with any kind of roots or greens. But I was wrong. I had thin, crisp beetroot and spinach bites on my mind but a burnt disaster on my plate. It was so frustrating as I already had the perfect sandwich for this composition ready in my head: the chips were supposed to lay gracefully on a bad of sweet, juicy shallots roasted in the oven in their skins. I could already see the bright purple and green screaming in front of the pale onions. But reality was different. There was no bright anything but a black, bitter disaster.

I know I should have done it before, but afterwards I read and learned that beet chips can be cooked in the oven, which should be much easier. At that point my mood had reached such a low point that I decided to go for a different creation. I looked at the two beetroots that were lucky enough to escape the scorching hot oil in the pan and stuffed one of them in a blender along with some fresh ricotta, olive oil, thyme, and lemon juice. You could boil the root first but I actually enjoyed the crunchy raw bites in the dip. Fried thyme was next and a success - the tiny leaves thrown into sizzling olive oil and taken off the heat immediately, were just right - neither dark nor bitter. And all this piled up on a thick leaf of raw spinach. You could make a juicy ciabatta sandwich with it but I was too lazy to go to the bakery so I grabbed my dark spelt potato bread. It added heartiness to the earthy flavours. This is a proper winter sandwich, stuffed with taste and vitamins.

Beet Ricotta and Roast Shallot Sandwich with Spinach and Fried Thyme

Makes 2 large sandwiches

For the roast shallots

• medium shallots, in their skins, 8

• olive oil 1 tablespoon

For the beet-ricotta dip

• peeled beetroot, raw or boiled, roughly chopped, 120g / 4 ounces

• fresh ricotta 100g / 3 1/2 ounces

• olive oil 3 tablespoons

• freshly squeezed lemon juice 1 teaspoon

• fresh thyme leaves 1 heaping teaspoon

• fine sea salt

• ground pepper

For the fried thyme

• olive oil 3 tablespoons

• fresh thyme 8 small, young sprigs

For the sandwiches

• dark bread 4 slices

• large mature spinach leaves 4 (or a small handful of baby spinach)

• black peppercorns crushed with a mortar

Preheat the oven to 425°F (220°C).

For the roast shallots, in a baking dish, toss the shallots with 1 tablespoon olive oil. Roast for 15 minutes, then turn them over and roast for 15 minutes on the other side. If they feel soft when you push them down gently, they’re done; set aside.

For the beet-ricotta dip, combine the ingredients in a blender or food processor and pulse until smooth. Season to taste with salt, pepper, and thyme. If the dip is too dry, add more olive oil.

For the fried thyme, heat the olive oil in a small saucepan over high heat, add the thyme sprigs. Take off the heat immediately and set aside.

Brush 2 slices of the bread with the thyme oil from the saucepan and cover with spinach leaves. Sprinkle with generous dollops of the beet-ricotta dip. Snip the ends off the roast shallots and squeeze them out of their skins onto the dip. Lay some fried thyme on top and sprinkle with crushed peppercorns. Close the sandwich and enjoy.

Perfectly Fudgy Ginger Chili Double Chocolate Cookies

Over the past few days, I've been working on last year's tax declaration, a rather frustrating task that is only bearable with lots of sweets on the side. Or a glass of wine, which I don't recommend to avoid serious problems with your tax office due to illogical inconsistencies caused by a tipsy mind. This highly responsible - but absolutely boring work - needs lots of concentration and sugar to keep the brain cells awake. I think any kind of cookie would have worked in my case - I'm always happy when I have these sweet, chunky bites in my mouth - but I was after a powerful treat, packed with spice and bittersweetness.

And here's what I came up with: Ginger Chili Double Chocolate Cookies. I would call it a proper man's cookie, at least our male friends who passed through our flat recently were absolutely hooked on them and praised the perfect balance of softness and crunch. They are very dark, with chocolaty depth, I used melted bittersweet chocolate plus roughly chopped chunks and only a little bit of flour, which had an amazing effect on the texture. These cookies are soft inside, a bit fudgy, and wrapped in a thin, shiny crust - perfect. I stirred in plenty of freshly grated ginger and finely chopped fresh red chili pepper. The result was hot, citrusy and fresh - don't expect a slight hint of the spices, they are present.

You have to take these cookies out of the oven at the right point, when the dough is just done. I made 11 cookies, 10 were perfect, and only 1 of them (for whatever reason) was still too gooey inside for my taste. The chocolate flavour is intense, I wouldn't use chocolate much darker than 55% for this recipe, the bitter note can become too overpowering and disturb the spices - even for men.

Ginger Chili Double Chocolate Cookies

Makes 10-12 cookies

• bittersweet chocolate (about 55%) 300g /10 1/2 ounces

• unsalted butter 45g / 3 tablespoons

• freshly grated ginger 1 heaping tablespoon

• ground cinnamon 1 teaspoon

• plain flour 65g / 1/2 cup

• baking powder 1/2 teaspoon

• organic eggs 2

• granulated sugar 100g / 1/2 cup

• fine sea salt 1/4 teaspoon

• medium hot fresh red chili, finely chopped, 2 teaspoons

Preheat the oven to 180°C / 350°F. Line 1 baking sheet with parchment paper.Roughly chop 1/3 of the chocolate  (100g / 3 1/2 ounces) and set aside.

In a medium saucepan, melt the remaining chocolate, the butter, ginger, and cinnamon over low heat, stirring occasionally. Let it cool for 2 minutes.

Combine the flour and baking powder and set aside.

In a large bowl, use an electric mixer to beat the eggs, sugar, and salt for 2 minutes until light and fluffy. Whisk in the melted chocolate until well combined. Using a wooden spoon, fold in the flour and chopped chocolate until just combined. Stir in the chili and scoop 1 heaping tablespoon for each cookie onto the lined baking sheet, leaving a bit of space between the cookies. Don't flatten the cookies. Bake for about 11-12 minutes or until the cookies are a little crunchy outside and slightly soft in the middle. Take the baking sheet out of the oven and let the cookies cool for 10-15 minutes before you transfer them to a wire rack to cool completely, the chocolate will need a little while to become hard again.

Beluga Lentils with Ginger Orange Rutabaga and Rosemary

I once read that the 3rd Monday of January is supposed to be the most depressing day of the year - Blue Monday. I don't know if it's true, luckily it has already passed, and I didn't notice my mood drooping drastically that day. However, I've felt a rising impatience for more light and warmer weather to come back into my life. So much so that I had to book flights to Malta last night. This always makes me feel so much better, no matter how far in the future the departure date lies, just the thought of it puts me in a good mood.

Another way to lift my spirits is food. Cosy food, colourful food, or simply delicious food. This dish combines all of it: nutty Beluga lentils, topped with thin slices of rutabaga, quickly cooked in the pan with lots of ginger, orange zest and juice, and fresh rosemary. The rustic root is as bright as the sunrise over Malta's east coast and its earthy flavour can easily deal with some strong aromas. I was surprised how well it merged with the dark legumes.

Beluga Lentils with Ginger Orange Rutabaga and Rosemary

Serves 3-4

For the lentils

• Beluga lentils, or any lentils (no soaking required), 280 g / 10 ounces

• small sprig fresh rosemary 1

• bay leaf 1

• olive oil

• balsamic vinegar 1 tablespoon

• fine sea salt

• ground pepper

For the rutabaga

• peeled rutabaga, cut into wedges and very thinly sliced (use a mandoline or cheese slicer), 300g / 10 1/2 ounces

• freshly grated ginger 1 tablespoon

• freshly grated zest of 1 orange

• freshly squeezed orange juice 100ml / 1/3 cup plus 2 tablespoons

• fine sea saltground pepper

• finely chopped fresh rosemary needles 1-2 tablespoons

• black peppercorns, crushed in a mortar

Place the lentils in a saucepan with plenty of (unsalted) water, add the rosemary and bay leaf, and bring to the boil. Simmer for about 20 minutes or until al dente (or follow the package instructions). Remove excess liquid with a ladle if necessary and stir in a generous splash of olive oil and the vinegar. Season to taste with salt, pepper and vinegar.

While the lentils are cooking, prepare the rutabaga: In a large, heavy pan, heat a generous splash of olive oil over medium-high heat. Add the rutabaga and cook for about 5 minutes, stirring occasionally, until golden and al dente. Scrape the rutabaga to the side, add a little more olive oil to the pan along with the ginger, cook for 1 minute, stirring constantly. Add the orange zest (leave a little of the zest for the topping) and juice and season with salt and pepper. Stir in the rosemary or use as a topping once the plates are ready. Cook for another 1-2 minutes until the desired texture is reached.

Divide the lentils between plates and lay the rutabaga on top. Sprinkle with rosemary, orange zest, and crushed peppercorns and drizzle with a little olive oil (optional). Serve immediately.

Germknödel - Austrian Yeast Dumplings with Plums, Poppy Seeds & Vanilla Custard

Somewhere in the snowy mountains in northern Italy, is a tiny village that you can only reach through a dangerously narrow road. Winding up higher and higher, dark fir trees on one side and deep gorges on the other, it makes you pray with gratitude once you get to the village safely. I used to spend a lot of time there, skiing and walking through the woods, through knee-deep snow until I reached one of the cosy wooden huts that are luckily spread all over to offer the frozen wanderer a bit of warmth, rest, and food. The culinary treasures of this region - in South Tyrol - are outstanding and one of the best things you can give your body when the temperatures are freezing.

One of these treats actually originated in Austria but crossed the border and became a staple in the local cooking: wonderfully fluffy Germknödel. It's a yeast dough dumpling, usually filled with plum butter (thick and sticky plum jam) and topped with melted butter, poppy seeds, and icing sugar. It's one of those dishes that you can easily eat for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I used to enjoy it so often on the terrace of a very old hut, it had a breathtaking view over icy-white mountains, often framed in a sparkling blue sky. The chef used to serve it with thick vanilla custard instead of the melted butter and that's what I do in my kitchen as well. I also replace the plum jam with whole plums for a bit more fruitiness. The only difficult task I had to solve, was to decide how I would steam the dumplings (I don't have a steam cooker in my kitchen). You could also blanch them in water but the results aren't as nice. A quick phone call with my mother and my problem was solved. I did it the way my granny Lisa used to cook dumplings: on a cotton tea towel tightened with clothespins over a wide pot filled with simmering water - old-fashioned, cheap, and my Knödel were perfect. I could have steamed them one after the other to give them a pretty round shape, but I was impatient. I cooked all at once, up against each other, and broke their fluffiness apart when they were done. Warm, tender, and fragrant, you don't want to eat anything else ever again.

Germknödel

Makes 4 large dumplings

For the dumplings

• plain flour 270g / 2 cups plus 1 heaping tablespoon

• granulated sugar 25g / 2 tablespoons

• ground cinnamon 1/2 teaspoon, plus more for the plums

• fast-acting yeast, scant 2 teaspoons

• fine sea salt 1/4 teaspoon

• milk, at room temperature, 120ml / 1/2 cup

• butter, melted and cooled, 40g / 3 tablespoons

• organic egg 1

• jarred plums, cut in half, 2

For the topping

• ground poppy seeds 2-3 tablespoons

For the vanilla custard

• whole milk 500 ml / 2 cups plus 2 tablespoons

• organic egg yolks 4

• granulated sugar 100 g / 1/2 cup

• cornstarch  30 g / 1/4 cup

• fine sea salt 1/8 teaspoon

• vanilla pod, split lengthwise, 1

To steam the dumplings, you need a large, wide pot (mine is 24cm / 9 1/2" wide), a cotton or linen tea towel plus 4 clothespins to fix the towel, and a metal (or heat-resistant) bowl, large enough to cover the pot as a domed lid.

For the dumplings, combine the flour, sugar, cinnamon, yeast, and salt in a large bowl.

Whisk together the milk, butter, and the egg - the mixture should be lukewarm. Add to the dry mixture and mix with the dough hooks of an electric mixer for a few minutes or until well combined. Continue kneading with your hands for a few minutes until you have a soft and silky dough ball. Place the dough back in the bowl, cover with a tea towel, and let rise in a warm place, or preferably in a 35°C / 100°F warm oven, for about 70 minutes or until doubled in size.

Punch the dough down, take it out of the bowl, and knead for about 30 seconds. Divide the dough into 4 equal portions and use your hands to form each one into a 10cm / 4" disc. Lay 1 plum half in the middle of each dough disc and sprinkle with a little cinnamon. Fold the dough up and use your fingers to squeeze the dough together to close the dumplings and seal the plums tightly inside. Roll into balls with your hands and transfer the dumplings to a lightly floured baking dish or baking sheet. Cover with a tea towel and let rise in a warm place for about 20 minutes until puffy.

While the dumplings are rising, fill about 1/3 of the pot with water and bring to the boil. Take the pot off the heat and lay a cotton or linen tea towel over the pot (mind the hot steam). Fix the towel with clothespins at the handles so that the towel can hang in the pot without touching the water. Lay the dumplings - 4 at once or in batches, if you want to have round shaped single dumplings - onto the towel, they shouldn't touch the water. Cover with a tight fitting metal bowl (upside down) and transfer the pot back to the heat. Turn the heat down to a low simmer (medium to medium-low) and steam the dumplings for 20 minutes without lifting the top (!).

While the dumplings are cooking, make the custard: In a small bowl, whisk 4 tablespoons of the milk with the egg yolks, sugar, cornstarch, and salt until well combined. In a medium saucepan, bring the remaining milk and the vanilla pod to the boil. Take the vanilla out and scrape the seeds from the pod into the milk. Whisking constantly, add the egg yolk mixture to the hot milk and bring to a boil. Take the saucepan off the heat; continue whisking for 2 minutes and set aside.

After 20 minutes take the pot off the heat and the top off the dumplings - mind the hot steam. Carefully transfer the towel with the dumplings to a table, wait for about 2 minutes then use a knife to peel the dumplings off the towel. If you cooked all of them at once, break them into 4 pieces. Serve immediately with the warm vanilla custard, sprinkled with poppy seeds.

meet in your kitchen | Capri, Lobster & Pasta e Patata at Hotel de Rome in Berlin

I always had a weak spot for grand hotels. It must have been my mother who planted this seed in the early days of my life. We used to travel a lot together, to Europe's old cities, Mediterranean getaways and snowy villages in the mountains. And wherever we went, we fell for the splendid charm, beautiful architecture and culinary excitement of a luxurious hotel - we're girls after all. Be it for a few nights, or just a cappuccino or glass of wine at the bar, these places tend to take us into another world as soon as we walk through the revolving door.

In Berlin, you can find one of these magical houses at a beautiful piazza framed by the imposing buildings of the Humboldt University and the Berlin State Opera, right on one of the city's most prominent boulevards - Unter den Linden. Walking into Rocco Forte's Hotel de Rome reveals a house full of elegance and history. The former Dresdner Bank Headquarter was built in 1889, thick stone walls, marbled columns, gold leaf mosaics, and Berlin's prettiest ballroom covered by a huge skylight, are symbols of an era of grandeur. The bank managers' former offices have been turned into chic suites, and in the basement, where the hotel's spa is located in our days, you can still see the rooms secured by heavy iron doors where the bank once held its gold deposits. Its a piece of the city's history, preserved and turned into a place to relax, enjoy and savour. My personal highlight is the spacious roof terrace overlooking the city, it's one of Berlin's best locations to enjoy a sundowner on a warm summer's night. I can't wait for them to come back.

The Hotel de Rome combines two cultures - Germany and Italy - and especially in the kitchen, the Mediterranean side took over. The legendary Tuscan Michelin-stared chef Fulvio Pierangelini, Director of Food responsible for the honest approach to Italian cuisine in a few hotels of the Rocco Forte family, has a fantastic team here in Berlin. Jörg Behrend, Executive Chef, and his Sous-Chef Davide Mazzarella create such delicious treats at the La Banca Restaurant that I decided to meet them in their kitchen. On an icy-cold and snowy morning, I walked into the hotel's bar in desperate need of a warming tea. After a chat with the Bar Supervisor, Jörg Wischner, I found out that the choice wouldn't be easy. He offered me a selection of 40 delicate leaf compositions, which you can also enjoy at a traditional afternoon tea ceremony at the hotel's cosy Opera Court, inspired by their London sister, the Brown's Hotel. While I was sipping on a fragrant golden green tea, he explained the extensive cocktail menu, which made me wish I had come in the evening. But I was here to cook and learn about Capri's cuisine.

Davide's family used to have a renowned restaurant on Italy's little island in the Gulf of Naples, when Capri was still the place to be for Europe's high society and American movie stars. He says those days are over, but the traditional recipes he learned to cook from his family, the time spent with them in the kitchen, peeling potatoes and chopping vegetables, made the young man want to become a chef and take his home's scrumptious food out into the world. Jörg Behrend is from western Germany but he feels strongly inspired by Italy's culinary treasures. Through traveling and working with his Italian-German team for many years, he has almost become Italian himself. So it didn't take long for us to decide what we'd like to cook together: Pasta e Patata all Astice. It's a Capri classic that was completely new to me, thinly sliced potatoes and spaghetti cooked like a risotto and topped with a lobster. The everyday basic version is made without seafood, which isn't necessary, but it turns it into an extravagant treat. Pasta e Patata is often served as one of many courses during a special family lunch.

Needless to say, the meal was perfect, it's one of the secrets of Italian cooking, you don't need many ingredients to create something outstanding. I find it even better than risotto. To make our Italian lunch complete, we enjoyed it with crisp white wine at a big table together with the Hotel de Rome family. This is how it feels at this hotel, it's a family taking care of you. Thank you Jörg, Davide, Türkan, Sebastian, and Jörg (at the bar) for a bit of Capri in Berlin!

Pasta e Patata all Astice

Serves 4

• olive oil

• garlic, crushed, 1 clove

• onions, peeled, 220g / 8 ounces

• red chili pepper, seeded and thinly sliced, 1/4 - 1/2

• waxy potatoes, peeled, quartered, and cut into 1/2cm / 1/4" slices,  500g / 17 1/2 ounces

• vegetable broth, about 1 1/2l / 6 1/4 cups, plus more as needed

• dried spaghetti spezzati (broken into 6cm / 2 1/2" pieces) 400g / 14 ounces

• cherry tomatoes, cut into quarters, 10

• Parmesan, freshly grated, 180g / 6 1/2 ounces

• fresh basil, a handful, torn into pieces

• fine sea saltground pepper

• lobster, cooked, removed from its shell, 2 (each about 500g / 17 1/2 ounces)

• butter 1 tablespoon

• a few thyme leaves

In a large, wide pot, heat a generous splash of olive oil over medium heat and sauté the garlic, onions, chili, and potatoes for a few minutes until the onions are golden and soft. Cook like a risotto, add a little vegetable broth to cover the potatoes, let the potatoes soak the liquid, and add a little more when it's all soaked, stirring occasionally. Repeat until the texture is velvety thick and the potatoes are almost soft. Add the spaghetti and more broth and let the spaghetti cook, stirring, until al dente. Add more broth as necessary. In the last few minutes, let the dish thicken like a risotto. Stir in the tomatoes, Parmesan, basil (leave out a few leaves for the topping), and season to taste with salt and pepper. Cover and let sit for a few minutes.

While the potatoes are cooking, prepare the lobster: In a medium, heavy pan, heat the butter and thyme over medium heat, add the cooked lobster, and cook until golden.

Divide the pasta e patata among plates, lay the lobster on top, and sprinkle with fresh basil leaves.

Buon Appetito!

Jörg, you are Chef de Cuisine at Rocco Forte'sHotel de Rome and the La BancaRestaurant where the kitchen is run by a German-Italian team: Sous-Chef Davide Mazzarella is from Capri and Fulvio Pierangelini, Director of Food and founder of the famous – but now closed - Gambero Rosso in Tuscany, was born in Rome. Did this experience make you a little Italian? How important are different cultural backgrounds in the kitchen?

Jörg Behrend: My Italian side grew considerably through working in our team. To understand the philosophy, the easiness, and the purism of the Italian cuisine, it's important to have this constant exchange with my Italian colleagues. It helps to create delicious dishes.

Davide, you worked in Michelin-starred restaurants in Italy, the L'Olivo in Capri and Davide Scabin's Combal. Zero in Rivoli, before you decided to work abroad. What are the differences between working as a chef in restaurants in Italy and in Germany?

Davide Mazzarella: I don't think that the differences between Italy and Germany are that big. It's important to work professionally, in both places. There is a difference regarding the availability of ingredients and products, it's much easier to get them in Italy. Always fresh and seasonal, it's possible to buy whatever you need twice a day. In Germany you have to trust your suppliers and hope that they bring you what you need.

Jörg, you are from Limburg, a picturesque town in the west of Germany. Does your home region's cuisine come through in your work sometimes?

Jörg Behrend: Unfortunately not, my home's cooking is quite rich and rustic. There are also a few popular combinations that might be hard to understand if you're not a local, like potato soup with plum cake.

Davide, you grew up in Capri where your family ran a renowned restaurant for decades. How did this restaurant influence your life? How did Capri change over the years?

Davide Mazzarella: I learned the kitchen basics in our family restaurant and I have to thank my grandmother and parents that I'm a chef today. They inspired me and they passed their passion for this job on to me. Capri is beautiful, and famous, but it had its glorious days between the 50's and late 70's. In the past 20 years, the island became too touristy and, with time, we lost many traditions.

How important is the food and the cuisine that we grow up with as children for our adult life?

Jörg Behrend: The cooking of our childhood is essential and a guidance for the rest of our life. Looking back, I'm very thankful for my mother, giving us fresh, homegrown vegetables, freshly squeezed juices from the fruit from our own trees. The meat and cold cuts we ate came from butchers and farmers, where the animals were treated well. My grandmother was the queen of preserving. Be it sauerkraut or raspberry jam, all year round, she was busy preserving fruits and vegetables. It came with age, that I understood how - unknowingly - conscious my mother used to cook. This is a guideline for me and my wife, which we're trying to hand down to our own kids, and to show them the recipes from our childhood.

Davide Mazzarella: It's everything. What we eat as a child and what we like is saved as a memory for the rest of our life. The smell is also important. The smell of tomato sauce still excites me as it did then, when I lived at home.

How did the German and the Italian cuisine change over the past 10-15 years?

Jörg Behrend: The old recipes were forgotten. Then Nouvelle Cuisine took over, followed by a renaissance of the Deutsche Küche (German Cuisine) with the most modern techniques. Today, we cook regional, seasonal, and sustainable. We use the most simple products to create culinary highlights. We also use the entire animal again, rather than single parts. Back to the roots.

Davide Mazzarella: After the Nouvelle Cuisine, and the Spanish cuisine - with Ferran Adrià and the Molecular Cuisine - the Italian cuisine found its way back to its roots. Many recipes from the 18th century have been re-discovered and newly interpreted, with new cooking techniques and methods.

How important is seasonal and local produce for your creations?

Jörg Behrend: The quality is important, if you can't find the right quality in your region, you have to search for it outside the regional borders. We use seasonal produce for our creations.

Davide Mazzarella: It's very important. To work with seasonal and local produce is a MUST in our days. I love it, when our suppliers bring the produce from small producers from the countryside to our kitchen, it makes cooking more fun.

How do you develop new recipes? Where do you find inspiration?

Jörg Behrend: There's a growing influence through social media, and through travels to Italy, looking for original recipes.

Davide Mazzarella: Tradition, experience, personal technique, and knowledge. Inspiration comes naturally, and sometimes you have to take a peek at what others do.

Who has been your biggest inspiration in the kitchen? Who or what inspired you to start a career in food?

Jörg Behrend: Friends of my parents owned a hotel with a very good restaurant. I used to work there during my summer holidays and I was fascinated by the kitchen processes and the dishes they created. They offered me an apprenticeship and I gladly excepted.

Davide Mazzarella: My family, but especially my grandmother and my mama.

What was the first dish you cooked or baked on your own, what is your first cooking memory?

Jörg Behrend: My earliest memory is the smell of fresh jus in the cooling room. I can never forget about it. Unfortunately, I don't remember my first dish.

Davide Mazzarella: I think it must have been spaghetti aglio e olio. It was disgusting. And I can never get the smell of O' Rau’ (Neapolitan Sunday and holiday dish) out of my head.

What are your favourite places to buy and enjoy food in Berlin? 

Jörg Behrend: Restaurant Grünfisch in the Gräfekiez, the farmers' market at Karl-August Platz in Charlottenburg, Frischeparadies on Morsestrasse, Cafe Set´s on Schlüterstrasse, Küstlichkeiten in the Markthalle Neun.

Davide Mazzarella: Vitaminchen at Oliver Platz, Frischeparadies on Morsestrasse, Masaniello Pizzeria on Hasenheide.

If you could choose one person to cook a meal for you, who and what would it be?

Jörg Behrend: Beef stew, together with my mother.

Davide Mazzarella: Neapolitan Salsiccia wrapped in fig leaves and cooked in ashes, together with my father.

You're going to have ten friends over for a spontaneous dinner, what will be on the table?

Jörg Behrend: Everything that I can find in the fridge, and everybody should bring something to the table.

Davide Mazzarella: There will definitely be something on the table, I just don't know what yet.

What was your childhood's culinary favourite and what is it now?

Jörg Behrend: Spinach, potatoes and egg in my childhood. Salt-baked fish with artichokes and a salad of bitter lettuce leaves whenever I can get it. Or pasta sugo in all its variations.

Davide Mazzarella: Riso e lenticchie (rice and lentils) in my childhood. Today: spaghetti aglio e olio my way.

At home, do you prefer to cook on your own or together with others?

Jörg Behrend: At home, I let my wife cook. When we have guests, everybody is involved.

Davide Mazzarella: I don't like cooking at home. And if I did cook, it would have to be for a beautiful woman.

Which meals do you prefer when you cook privately, improvised or planned?

Jörg Behrend: Improvised.

Davide Mazzarella: Improvised.

Which meal would you never cook again?

Jörg Behrend: Snails. I had to cook them during my apprenticeship.

Davide Mazzarella: Once I got a sturgeon, alive. It's an experience I don't need ever again.

Thank you, Jörg and Davide!