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Chilli sin carne

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I just came back from a holiday. We went to Poland,I showed Boyfriend the town I was born in, the place I went to uni (and where Copernicus was born), let him fall in love with the area and nag me to move there with him (ha!). This is the irony of life – you dream of living in the UK, move there, start feeling happy and end up with an Englishman who dreams of living in Poland.

chili sin carne

We hit the town (towns more like – it was a road trip), got smashed with my professor from uni and expert on Kant’s philosophy; met old and new friends. Boyfriend also got introduced to Fred the dog. And then the holiday was over.

When you are away for more than a week, after you come back, there is nothing in the fridge. That’s why in case of such emergency you should always keep some tinned beans etc. in your house. You can always produce chilli sin carne out of almost nothing.

chilli sin carne

chilli sin carne

Chilli sin carne

200grams of quorn meat

red onion

2 red chillies

can of chopped tomatoes

can of kidney beans

small can of sweetcorn

oregano

salt

cup of rice (enough for 2 people)

 

1. Wash rice and boil in twice as much water as you’ve got rice with a pinch of salt

2. Sauté chopped onion (you can replace red onion with shallots if you feel like it) and chopped chillies.

3.Add quorn mince meat (you can replace it with red lentils) and chopped tomatoes. Stir and cook till it gets thicker.

4. Add some oregano.

5. When the sauce thickens add kidney beans and sweetcorn.

6. With 2 chillies it should be hot, but if you need it to be more spicy, add some cayenne pepper (if you want your eyes to pop out).

Serve with rice.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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About potatofaces

People who cook always go on about precious memories of childhood food one of their family members cooked, how daddy or nanny taught them the importance of cooking and eating together, and they still remember the comfort food they produced, amazing dishes whipped up by brilliant but humble cooks in their family. Well, let me tell you, it was totally different in my family. My mother’s family – totally useless as cooks, who could survive on bread and butter, cooked once a week a terrible, terrible meal, usually some kind of meat piece with lots of brown sauce. Also, they were never bothered about eating together. That’s maybe why most of them were depressed and suicidal. My mother followed that path and couldn’t really cook, and because I never wanted to eat meat, was warning me that ‘one day I will regret it’. Probably because my mother wasn’t into cooking my sister at the age of 12 took over and started producing amazing dinners and cakes. Well, luckily for me and her we weren’t that genetically doomed because apparently my father’s family were gifted in that compartment. I can only presume it was genes, as my father divorced my mother when my sis and me were little and he strongly believed that he also divorced us. So, we were growing up never having any contact with him and as a result, couldn’t learn how to cook from him. That’s why I believe the love of cooking ( and the ability) was just passed to us genetically. My father, short time before he died, unexpectedly felt an urge to contact us. First he gave my sister a mandolin (that’s another thing I know about him- he played a few instruments). My sister refused to talk to him, he then decided to contact me and wanted to spend some time with me. I didn’t want to, as he was a stranger to me (I was 11 or 12 at the time) but as I was promised I could leave whenever I wanted to, I went to the village he lived in. There I tried his mother’s cooking everyone was raving about. It was simple and amazing, I wish they were as family dedicated as they were at baking, cooking, making pastries, wine, tinctures, you name it. But I ate, drunk, and got bored of strangers who were my family and demanded to be let to go home. One of the last things my father said to me was that I should start learning English because I might need it one day, which I ignored for another 16 years… Because my sister was such a domestic goddess I wasn’t really bothered about cooking. I got hooked properly after my son was born and I wanted him to eat healthy and get everything he needed, especially that it wasn’t his choice to be a vegetarian (yet). And that is how the story begins…

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