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Christmas party – menu

I said recipes were coming soon, but who truly can define ‘soon’.

In other words I was just being lazy, doing what you should over Christmas – do nothing, eat, drink, and be merry…

But here it comes, christmas party menu:

Beetroot soup with mushroom parcels

For the beetroot soup you need:

2-3 beetroots (fresh)

1 carrot

1 parsnip

1 onion

3 pints of water



dried marjoram


lemon juice from 1 lemon

1 spoon of olive oil


1. Boil water in a pan. Add olive oil.

2. Peel all the vegetables , cut them into big chunks (onion in half) and add to boiling water.

3. Add salt and pepper.

4. After few minutes add lemon juice. Boil for 15-20 minutes, taste and add more seasoning or lemon juice if you need to.

5. You can take all the vegetables out of your pot (we need clear beetroot soup) and add herbs and a dash of an olive oil.

I’m not going to lie, you can make yourself mushroom parcels (like tortellinis with porchini mushrooms). My sister does. But I bought them frozen from a Polish shop (one can only do a few things at a time).

mushroom parcels

mushroom parcels


beetroot soup with mushroom parcels

beetroot soup with mushroom parcels

Next thing on the menu were Beet and Goat Cheese Terrine with Rocket and Roasted Butternut Squash Salad

beetroot and goat cheese terrine

beetroot and goat cheese terrine


beetroot and goat cheese terrine

beetroot and goat cheese terrine

You can find the recipe in ‘Fresh’ by Anna Olson

I served it with Rocket and Roasted Butternut Squash Salad, Ina Garten aka Barefoot Contessa’s recipe:

You can find it in her book ‘Back to Basics’

or on the Food Network website here.

For the main we had Spanakopita (Spinach and Feta in Filo Pastry). I tried different variations of  this Greek dish but my favourite recipe which I used over and over again is Jamie Oliver’s from his ’30 Minute Meals’  book

There were two deserts. One of them was mince pies in filo pastry, dead easy. You need to cut filo pastry into squares, brush with melted butter and arrange in a muffin tin. If you feel artistic and have time arrange them with corners making a star. Fill them with vegetarian good mince meat, zest of lemon and fresh cranberries, bake till golden and sprinkle with icing sugar and maybe little sugar snowflakes…?

mince pies in filo pastry

mince pies in filo pastry

And there were also Gingerbread Cupcakes.

Christmas gingerbread cupcakes

Christmas gingerbread cupcakes

Christmas gingerbread cupcakes

Christmas gingerbread cupcakes

And the recipe you can also find on the Food Network website here.



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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