Greenfeast

Two little words. So much joy. I sometimes think ‘on toast’ might be the best two words in the world. That slice of toast could be heavy with butter, shining pools forming on its surface; saturated with olive oil, glistening bright with crystals of sea salt, or perhaps its golden crust is shimmering with Marmite or honey.

Toast can be a round of ‘white sliced’ popping up from the toaster; thick air-pocketed sourdough, its crust caught black under the grill; neat rectangles of dark rye, all treacle and aniseed. Then again it could be a muffin, ripped rather than sliced in half, or a crumpet whose buttery cargo has trickled deep into its holes. Toast can be focaccia or ciabatta, fruit loaf or panettone, naan or roti. In short, any dough whose surface will toast crisply and hold something delicious.

I often tuck a piece of thick toast underneath a wedge of roasted pumpkin or aubergine, the bread soaking up the juices as it cooks. Almost anything, from broccoli you have cooked in butter on the hob to a stew whose juices deserve a thick pillow to soak them up, can be piled on top of toast.

It is difficult to think of anything more instantly satisfying than a thick wodge of golden bread under a pool of melted cheese. But that is just a start. I like to cook slices of leek or onion in butter till silky, then hide them underneath a layer of Cheddar or Wensleydale; mix grated beetroot and apple with goat’s curd or soft cheese and sit it on sourdough or rye.

We can extend the very meaning of toast to include any piece of dough whose surface has been deliciously crisped by the heat. Many is the time I have commandeered everything from warm oatcakes to a white sliced loaf to use as a supporting role for cooked vegetables or melted cheese. Even a crumpet fits the bill, especially when spread with a layer of cream cheese and topped with lightly cooked spinach. And I could never forget using naan as a soft cushion on which to put torn pieces of mozzarella with tomatoes or an English muffin spread thick with hummus and fried mushrooms.

There are no rules really. The toast should be thick enough to support whatever we put on top of it and it should be hot and freshly made. Other than that, we are surely free to mix and match toasts and toppings at will. Authenticity is of little interest here; what matters is that the two are compatible.

A slice of toasted bread has the ability to make anything more substantial. A lump of cool, milky burrata with a trickle of peppery olive oil; a trio of roasted tomatoes, their skins blackened from the oven and scented with basil and butter; a spoon or three of last night’s stew, brought to a steaming simmer, or the bread, cut thick and toasted and dunked into a bowl of soup where it will slowly sponge up every bit of goodness and savour.

BEETROOT, APPLE, GOAT’S CURD

Hot toast, cool curd, crisp seeds.

Serves 2

pickled beetroot 100g

a small, sharp apple

cider vinegar 2 tablespoons

sunflower seeds 2 tablespoons

poppy seeds 2 tablespoons

rye or sourdough bread 2 thick slices

goat’s curd 200g

dill, chopped 2 tablespoons

Coarsely grate the beetroot into a medium-sized mixing bowl. Grate the apple into the beetroot but don’t mix them together. Sprinkle the cider vinegar over the apple and beetroot.

In a dry pan, toast the sunflower seeds for three or four minutes till golden and fragrant, then mix them with the poppy seeds. Toast the bread lightly on both sides.

Stir the goat’s curd into the apple and beetroot, together with a little salt and half the seeds and chopped dill. Spread the apple and goat’s curd onto the toasts in thick waves, scatter over the remaining seeds and dill and eat immediately, while the toast is still hot.

• A light stir is all you need to mix the curd with the apple and beetroot. Over-mixing will result in a rather pink covering for your toast.

• Instead of the goat’s curd, try fromage frais or a fresh, fluffy goat’s cheese.

CRUMPETS, CREAM CHEESE, SPINACH

The comfort of crumpets. The goodness of greens.

Serves 2

spinach 100g

tarragon, chopped 1 tablespoon

chives, chopped 1 tablespoon

parsley, chopped 2 tablespoons

spring onion 1

cream cheese 200g

crumpets 4

Wash the spinach, remove any thick stems, then pile the still-wet leaves into a saucepan. Place the pan over a moderate heat, cover tightly with a lid, then let the leaves steam for a minute or two. Lift the lid and turn the leaves, so they soften evenly. When they are bright green and glossy, remove from the pan, squeeze the leaves almost dry and chop roughly.

Mix the chopped tarragon, chives and parsley together. Finely slice the spring onion and mix with the herbs, then stir into the cream cheese. Season with black pepper and a little salt. Toast the crumpets till golden, then spread each generously with some of the herb cream cheese. Pile some of the spinach leaves on top and tuck in.

• The crumpet’s holes have the ability to soak up anything we spread it with, from butter to herbed cream cheese. Rather than sit on top of the toasted crust, the melted cheese, cream, Marmite or whatever trickles down through the holes to become part of the crumpet itself. An utterly joyous conception and the reason for keeping a packet in the freezer.

• Once a crumpet is toasted, I find it best to cover the surface generously with something delicious, then return it briefly to the grill. Crumpets don’t hold the heat well, so an extra minute or so under the heat will ensure they are piping hot.