Thursday, 31 May 2012

Mushroom Lasagne

Poor Queen. After weeks of unexpected, uninterrupted, unadulterated sunshine - just as everyone is looking forward to the Jubilee, and buying industrial quantities of bunting, flags and solar-powered waving Queen lights - another Great British tradition has reared its ugly head. Have you seen the weather forecast? It's a Bank Holiday, therefore obviously it's going to rain. On the flotilla, the open air concert and the crowd-cheered procession. I do hope her Maj has a pair of Jubilee-themed wellies, don't you?

I can tell you, we've got all kinds of plans here. As one of her Majesty's loyal civil servants, I get an extra day off tomorrow (woo to the hoo!). Then we've got barbecues and street parties, afternoon teas and evening drinks. All topped off with some DIY, some royal-themed baking, and quite a lot of sleeping in and reading the paper. Honestly, even if it pours with rain every single day, I won't mind. Five day weekend! This is the way life SHOULD be.

Another reason not to whinge about the change in the weather is that it has made today's recipe all the more appropriate. As I mentioned before, my sister just had a baby - after an epic four day labour. God knows, she deserves a treat after that, so I made it my Good-New-Aunt mission to see what I could do. For our first visit to the hospital, we just took along a big bag of squidgy and blue cheeses from our lovely local cheese shop (aka the ones she couldn't indulge in throughout pregnancy), along with a few odds and ends from our party. But when we went round to their house a week or so later, we were more prepared. We had supplies. We had a plan. And we had another batch, as requested, of Chocolate World Peace Cookies.

Sweet stuff aside, our food parcel was quite modest. As well as more cheese, we bought some disposable foil trays from Sainsburys (which wouldn't need washing up or returning to sender) and filled one with a huge Spring Veg Lasagne - frozen, tasty and chock-full of nutrients. Boringly, we filled the other one with lasagne as well - more specifically, a mushroom one from Smitten Kitchen which I've been itching to try for ages. Since Him Indoors is vehemently anti-mushroom, any previous, hopeful suggestion from me in a mushroom-lasagne-direction had always been on the receiving end of an immediate veto. This time, however, I was cooking for a different audience - and one which I know has a far more sensible attitude to mushrooms. Ta-dah, the perfect opportunity! Take that, Greedy Gusto.

I didn't follow the recipe exactly, partly because it was written with American cup measurements and partly because, well, it's a lasagne - how hard could it be? But I took the idea and freestyled - softening batches of mushrooms in butter, mixing up a thick, garlicky white sauce, layering it all up with cooked lasagne sheets and copious quantities of parmesan. I also pimped it a bit, where it seemed like a good idea - adding chives, thyme and parsley to the buttery mushrooms, crumbling a porcini stock cube into the sauce (purely because I had one), adding some cheddar to the parmesan (just because I like it) and leaving out an extra step of infusing the milk with garlic in favour of just chucking the garlic into the sauce directly. The whole thing took a bit of time but none of it was remotely difficult and even if the final result didn't look all that attractive (a bit of a symphony in brown), it certainly smelled good.

As for the taste? Well, it's resting in a freezer in Kent, so I can't really tell you. I made a titchy version in a ramekin, just to check it was edible, and that seemed pretty promising to me. But it wasn't layered or sauced properly, so it's hard to tell - I think we'll just have to assume it turned out ok. I tell you one thing though. Although it seemed pretty rich when I made it (on a bakingly hot day), I bet it would be pretty perfect now. It might not be red, white or blue - no crowns or diamonds in sight - but that doesn't mean that it couldn't fit into any Jubilee weekend shenanigans. 80 hours of labour non-compulsory, of course.

Mushroom Lasagne
Adapted from Smitten Kitchen
- 2 punnets of mushrooms (I did a mix of white and chestnut) washed/wiped and sliced
- butter
- olive oil
- a few sprigs of chive, thyme and parsley, chopped
- dried lasagne sheets
- a tablespoonful of plain flour
- a fat clove of garlic, crushed
- milk
- if you've got it, a mushroom stock cube. If not, don't worry about it
- pinch of ground nutmeg
- salt and pepper
- parmesan and cheddar
First of all, cook the lasagne sheets in boiling water with a good glug of oil to stop them sticking together, until cooked through. Drain and keep on one side while you make the fillings. Preheat the oven to 180C.
Melt a knob of butter with a bit of oil in a big, deep frying pan over a medium heat. Add enough mushrooms to cover the base of the pan, along with a sprinkle of salt and pepper. Cook, stirring occasionally, until they're soft and dark, some of their liquid has oozed out and they're starting to go golden around the edges. Transfer the cooked ones into a bowl and cook the rest in batches, until they're all cooked - you might need need to repeat the process three or four times. When the final batch is nearly done, pour all the cooked ones back in and chuck in the herbs. Stir around to wilt and spread the herbs, then turn the heat off and set the mushrooms aside.
Next, make the white sauce. In a medium-sized saucepan, melt a knob of butter over a gentle heat. Chuck the crushed garlic into the butter, stir it around for a minute or so to take the rawness off, then add the flour. Cook for a few minutes, stirring well, then gradually whisk in milk, slurp by slurp, until you've got a smooth and relatively thick sauce. I didn't measure quantities, I'm afraid, just kept going until it looked like I had enough to make the lasagne with. If you have a mushroom stock cube by any chance, then crumble it in, but it won't matter if not. Add a good grinding of black pepper and the nutmeg, then turn off the heat.
Ok, time to start layering! Get out a big oven-proof dish (or a foil tray if this is a gift, or you're feeling too lazy to wash up). Start with a thin layer of sauce, then pasta, then a good grating of cheddar or parmesan. Then mushrooms, pasta, sauce, cheese - repeat until you've used it all up, finishing with cheese.
Bake in the oven for 45 minutes or until golden and bubbling around the edges.  

Monday, 28 May 2012

Butternut Gratin


Good morning / afternoon / evening (delete as appropriate) and a big, sunny, diamond jubilee hello from Greedy Gusto, DineAtMine's guest blogger.

It always cheers me up to read the DineAtMine blog, and we love it when we get comments from readers who enjoy it too. Unfortunately, though, we recently got a letter from one disgruntled reader (a Mrs Madge E Micks), complaining that all the posts recently had used the KitchenAid (which we got as a wedding present from my wife's brother), but not the food processor (which we got as a wedding present from my brother). Yes the KitchenAid makes yummy things like cakes and ice cream, and it's a shimmery red colour, and is far more photogenic than the utilitarian MagiMix, and pictures of it (like the whisk pulling slowly out of the soft peaks of the whipped meringue mix) verge on the obscene for a family friendly blog. But the MagiMix can do good stuff too!

So the purpose of this post is to give the Magimix some well deserved time on the DineAtMine blog. I use the Magimix all the time - for zuzzing up a fruit smoothie (not sure if zuzzing is a word, but it's what I use), for chopping up vegetables for a stir fry, for squeezing orange juice (yes, the Magimix has a juice squeezing attachment that works really well; and honestly, the best freshly squeezed orange juice I've ever tasted was made last weekend using a bag of Sainsburys Basics oranges costing only 69p. Unexpectedly delicious). By the way, I apologise that this blog is punctuated by lots of offhand comments - I'm in the middle of reading "I, Partridge", and I can now only write in the style of Alan Partridge. Because I find it very funny. (Note to editor, we should probably have a link for readers to purchase "I, Partridge" on Amazon.)

So as I was saying, the purpose of this post is to give some airtime to the MagiMix. And not just because my brother bought it for us. But because it also makes delicious recipes like this gratin in no time. Using a knife and a chopping board, the preparation for this recipe would take me at least 2 and a half weeks, but in the Magimix these thin butternut wedges were prepared in a matter of minutes. By the way, you may have noticed that I've switched my capitalisation between MagiMix and Magimix - just thought I'd mix it up a bit (pun intended).

Like all Greedy Gusto's recipes, this one is quick, easy and greedy. There aren't many ingredients and there's no need to measure things out accurately. Just follow your heart. Add as much cream, milk and nutmeg as you like, bake it for as long as you think necessary, and it'll turn out great.

Butternut Squash Gratin
Adapted from various recipes - fingers crossed it works

- 1 butternut squash
- Cream and milk
- Ground nutmeg
- Salt and pepper
- Grated cheddar

First cut off the ends of the butternut squash, then cut it in half lengthways, and half again, and take out the seeds. Then simply feed it through your MagiMix (other food processors should work too) using the finest slicing blade (and when I say finest, I mean thinnest, not "the finest blade that money can buy").

Assemble the triangles of butternut squash in a low oven dish, and pour in cream and milk (using a 50/50 ratio) mixed with the grated cheddar, until the liquid is lapping at the edges of the top layer of squash. Then add a smattering of ground nutmeg, and some salt and pepper.

Bake in the oven for 45 minutes to an hour at 200 degrees, until the squash is cooked through.

Friday, 25 May 2012

Chocolate Meringues

Remember how, last time, I mentioned that we threw a big party? Well, lest you think we're cooler or more exciting than we really are, let me set one thing straight. This wasn't the sort of wild, crazy house party you see on telly. No random stolen street signs or illicit substances; no complaints from the neighbours and definitely no visits from the police. Instead, despite the fact that this beautiful sunshine hadn't quite arrived yet, we cracked out the barbecue and served up hot dogs, corn on the cob, fried onion, tomato and mozzarella salad, green salad, and mini jacket potatoes with sour cream and chives. I know! Pretty rock and roll. 

And yes, this savoury stuff was all very nice, but let's be honest. It was just camouflage for pudding. The main event was of course the ombre cake but it didn't end there, oh no. There were quadruple quantities of the chocolate world peace biscuits (still not quite enough, to be honest). There were bowls and bowls of chocolate buttons and mini Twirls. And, just in case we hadn't got the message, there was one more pudding. And yes, obviously, it was chocolate.

This recipe is originally by Nigella and I've made it once or twice over the years as one big pavlova, to general acclaim. This time, however, somehow the stars aligned and it went to another level - so good that my husband, Mr Greedy Gusto himself, officially added it to his Top Three Puddings of All Time. And trust me, that is saying something. What made it so good? Let me get out a numbered list. 1) Making them individual sized, rather than one big pavlova. 2) The Kitchen Aid.

I know, I know, I always go on about how amazing the Kitchen Aid is. Particularly with the ice cream bowl attachment (in case you hadn't noticed). But seriously, it's incredible. Before, even with my beloved little electric whisk, making meringues involved pretty serious arm ache. But not any more! Chuck in the egg whites, turn it on, then wander off. Flick through a magazine. Put the kettle on. Measure out the sugar. Lollop over to the fridge, pluck out a desultory grape or two, work out that you've forgotten to buy cream and add it to the list. Look over to the Kitchen Aid - ta-dah! All done. Honestly, some morning I'm going to come down to breakfast and it will have whipped up a whole cake without needing me at all.

As for the benefits of changing the size, it all comes down to texture. Now you love squidgy meringue centre, I love squidgy meringue centre, we all do. But this particular recipe, when cooked as one big pavlova, has always come out pretty soft in the middle. Not so much squidgy as verging on sloppy - delicious, but definitely moist. But in one-person portions? The ratios all even out. You end up with the perfect proportion of dry, crisp outside and soft, chocolate-chunk-studded inside. Topped off with double cream and strawberries or raspberries, I think it's a serious contender for perfect summer pudding. And, although I should warn you that these little meringues are ludicrously fragile, this too has its upside. I've just got four words for you, from exhaustive and exhausting research. Best Eton Mess Ever.

Chocolate Pavlovas
Adapted from Nigella here 
- 12 egg whites (I had previously frozen these from 2 batches of salted caramel ice cream, they defrosted fine)
- 600g caster sugar
- 6 tablespoons of cocoa powder (ideally sieved, but I didn't bother)
- 2 teaspoons of balsamic vinegar
- 100g dark chocolate, chopped
Preheat the oven to 180C and line all your baking trays with parchment.
Beat the egg whites until they form "satiny peaks" then add the sugar, a spoonful at a time, until it's stiff and glossy. Sprinkle over the cocoa, balsamic and chocolate and fold them in with a spatula or metal spoon. You could leave them all artfully swirled and Ottolenghi-ish, or just go all the way and ensure even spreadage of the chocolate - it's up to you.
Dollop big spoonfuls onto the baking trays and try to swirl into some kind of attractive circle. Piping would have been better but clearly it was beyond me in all the party prep madness.
Put them in the oven, immediately turn it down to 150C (although honestly, I can't remember if I did this) and leave to bake for around 45 minutes to an hour. When done they should look dry and slightly cracked on the outside, and feel ever so slightly squidgy inside if you press them gently.
Turn off the oven, open the door and leave them to cool. Once completely cool, they'll store in an airtight container for at least five days - possibly more but that was as long as our self control lasted. Top with whipped cream, raspberries or strawberries and curls of chocolate if you remember. Clearly, I didn't. 

Tuesday, 22 May 2012

White Chocolate Ombre Birthday Cake

It's been quite a weekend in the Dine at Mine household. In celebration of my birthday and our first wedding anniversary, we threw the first proper party in our lovely new house. We hung bunting in our garden, and got out the barbecue for the first time. We bought bottles and bottles of booze, and bags and bags of food. And it all went off very well, lots of fun, lots of friends, but you know the best bit? After a mammoth, four day labour, my sister brought a whole new life into the world. A beautiful, perfect, suffragette-named, astoundingly gorgeous new niece life. All the rest of my news seems a bit feeble in comparison, to be honest.

So to honour my sister's more than 80 HOURS OF LABOUR (which my brain - and other body parts - cannot even comprehend), this cake is dedicated to her. And to my niece. Even if she's not quite ready for solid food yet. 

Before the baby made her grand entrance (arriving right in the middle of our party, the little drama queen), this cake was really just an excuse to play with food colouring. I'd spotted pretty ombre cakes like this around t'internet for a while, most notably on Pinterest (aka procrastination central). Then, just when I'd decided to make one for our party, up popped a post on Florence Finds where she had made exactly the cake I'd been planning. It seemed like fate.

So I did it. I followed my recipe for Vanilla Sponge Cake with Double Cream Buttercream and Raspberries, with only one change - adding some melted white chocolate to the buttercream because, well, I like it. I divided the mix into four, played around with the food colouring and baked up four pretty pink layers, then filled them with raspberry jam and the white chocolate double cream buttercream. And it was brilliant! So much more fun than a normal cake and not at all more difficult. I'm totally sold. Look out, world, all my cakes will be multi-layered and multi-coloured from now on. 

I have to admit, though, that when it came to the baking process, I thought I'd buggered it all up. You see, I only have two identical cake tins and when you're dividing a cake mix into four, there's very little to go in each individual cake. For the first batch of two, it was fine - I could scrape and spread and get the batter all evenly dispersed so that it rose into two perfect little circles. But for the second batch? Hmm, not so much. Due to time constraints I didn't have time to let the tins cool before using them again, but when I added the second two lots of cake mix to the hot tins, the mixture started to melt immediately, slipping and sliding all over the base and looking very disturbing indeed. I couldn't spread it, I couldn't even touch it - so I just chucked them in the oven, closed the door and hoped for the best. 

In the interests of full disclosure I have to admit that those two didn't come out perfectly (the mixture didn't cover the whole of the base of the tin so they were slightly wonky, not perfect circles) but you know what? Once layered up, and covered with icing, it was totally fine. So yes, cooling the tins between batches would be the sane way to go but it turns out, not the end of the world. And the end result was still more than good enough to welcome a new little girl into the world. I'm already looking forward to years of baking and playing around with food colouring, eating too much cake mix and licking out the bowl. After all, what are aunts for? I can barely wait.

White Chocolate Ombre Birthday Cake

As explained above, this is my recipe for Vanilla Sponge Cake with Double Cream Buttercream and Raspberries, with only one change - melted white chocolate whipped into the buttercream.

Of course, let's not forget the most important bit - the food colouring! After making up the batter, I divided it into four bowls as evenly as I could without weighing it or anything, and then got out my pink food colouring. One I left untouched, then the others I just added drips and drops of colouring until I had three shades that looked different enough. 

Friday, 11 May 2012

Beetroot, Smoked Mackerel and Leek Risotto

All of a sudden, we've entered the late-20s Wedding Bulge and our weekends are no longer our own. When Mr Dine at Mine and I got married last year, we were one of the first couples in our circle to do the deed and all our celebrations had a bit of an air of novelty. Hats were new, gift lists were a mystery and certain people who shall remain nameless (my mum) went around at the reception telling couples they were like "dominoes", all about to fall. You can imagine how well that went down. Men laughed nervously, girls burnished the plans in their heads and sure enough, one year on we're six engagements down and counting. We've been to two weddings since our own, we've got two more this summer and agonizingly had to refuse another because it falls on the same day as one we'd already accepted (this Saturday, as a matter of fact). With stags, hens, assorted prep and last minute outfit hunts for both of us, our weekends are busy and next year is already getting booked up. Don't tell anyone, but I love it. I particularly love that our own wedding planning is safely over and we don't have to suffer last minute panics about rabid dogs and cancelled manicures.

Last weekend, amid the neverending biblical deluge, my husband set off on his second stag of the year for a weekend of paintballing, fish and chips and he-promises-me-not-too-much-debauchery. Most of the time, when he's away, I make sure to arrange fun and frivolous social engagements with friends but work had been bananas recently so I actually kept my diary clear. I watched the TV programmes he didn't want to see (Birdsong, very good, very sad). I met up with my mum, went to a haberdashery and did some sewing for a present for my new niece who is due ANY MOMENT NOW. I went to bed late and got up later, listened to naff radio and wore silly clothes he doesn't "get". I enjoyed my time on my own, but I was happier when he got back.

I also took the opportunity to eat the food he doesn't really like. Exhibit a) a tomato and mushroom omelette (eggs, tomato and mushrooms, tick tick tick). Exhibit b) smoked mackerel. I've got loads of this stuff knocking around the freezer ever since online shopping interpreted "one pack" as "one kilogram" and although I adore it (see salad and pate), Mr Dine at Mine is never so keen. We had a beetroot in the fridge left over from the rosti so I had planned on making the salad again but after a day on train platforms, getting soaked to the skin and chilled to the bone, I needed something more. A glass of wine, yes, and don't judge me for drinking alone. But also something hot, stodgy and comforting.

I'll be honest, though - I'm not sure this really worked. I added the whole beetroot because it needed using up and I think it was just far too much - it totally took over the dish. I also skipped the cheese because it was a fish risotto but I think a bit of parmesan might have been a good idea - do try it and let me know. But nevertheless, this was hot, packed with flavour, bright magenta and a great one-bowl tv dinner. Doesn't mean I'll rush to make it again.

Smoked Mackerel, Beetroot and Leek Risotto
Makes 2 portions, and reheats well for an office tupperware lunch
- 1 raw beetroot, peeled and cubed (or less if you want it less beetrooty). Yep, your hands are bright pink now.
- butter and oil
- vegetable stock
- a splash of white wine (or vermouth if you haven't got wine open, or nothing if you don't have either)
- 1 onion, finely chopped
- half a leek, finely chopped
- a clove of garlic, finely chopped
- a few handfuls of risotto rice - judge the quantity by your appetite
- some frozen broad beans, if you fancy
- a fillet of smoked mackerel, skin removed and the fillet flaked into biggish chunks
- a few chives
 Put the stock on the heat at a low simmer and chuck in the beetroot to cook. It'll also turn the stock bright pink, just so you're prepared.
Meanwhile, make the risotto as normal - gently fry onion, garlic and leek in butter until softened, add the rice, stir it around for a few minutes to toast (until it crackles). Add a splash of wine, and cook it off. Then add the stock, ladle by ladle, stirring all the time - try to leave the beetroot simmering for as long as possible but it's not the end of the world if some bits transfer from the stock saucepan to the risotto pan.
Keep adding stock and stirring, adding the broad beans to the risotto after about ten minutes. Test the beetroot and chuck it into the risotto when it's cooked. When the rice is done (after about 15-20 minutes), flake in the mackerel, turn off the heat and add a knob of butter. Stir around, leave it to sit for a minute then serve up scattered with the chopped chives.

Tuesday, 8 May 2012

Cheese Stars

I wrote a 4000 word speech at work today. Actually, a few more than 4000 but let's not split hairs. We had the meeting in the morning, and I handed in a draft in the evening. No time to check, to edit, to run it by anyone else or even to do extra research. Just tiptaptyping all day, trying to make an argument, trying to make a structure, trying to make sense. And at the end of the day, there it was. I'm not saying it was good and I'm definitely not saying it was great but it didn't exist in the morning, and it did in the evening. I'm quite sleepy now, to be honest.

So I trust you'll understand if this post is quite word-light and picture-heavy. You won't mind, will you? I bet you've been waiting months for me to say that.

Dinner on Saturday night. Old friends, new house. Bubbly out of posh glasses, clean and tidy house. Cooked old favourites: slow roasted lamb shoulder with carrot and sweet potato mash, peas and the most beautiful purple sprouting broccoli from the farmers market. Not just sprouting, flowering. Have you ever seen broccoli do that? I wanted to put it in a vase, it was so gorgeous. But instead we ate it. 

For pudding, new favourites: salted caramel ice cream and chocolate world peace biscuits.  One guest had five, not that we were counting. Well, why wouldn't you? Yum. Then amazing cheeses from our amazing cheese shop - English soft white stuffed with truffles (all time favourite); nutty comte and an incredible manchego rubbed with olive oil and coated in rosemary. Is it normal to spend more on cheese than meat? I like to think so.

And to start, just crisps, olives - and little cheesy stars. Crisp, moreish, crunch. Easy to make, quick quick quick and a big hit. Do it! Make more. Then nap. Well, that's what I'm going to do now. 

Cheese Stars
From Nigella's How to Eat - I made half of this quantity, but I'd recommend the full batch

- 50g self-raising flour
- good pinch of cayenne
- 25g soft butter
- 80g finely grated red leicester or mature cheddar (my microplane whizzed through this so fast, it was a thing of beauty)
- 20g finely grated parmesan

Preheat the oven to 200C. Mix it all together by hand or in the food processor - it'll be crumbly but keep clumping it together and it'll form a dough. 

Roll out the dough on a clean, floured surface (she doesn't specify a thickness so go with your gut), cut into shapes then arrange on a parchment-lined baking tray or two. Keep reclumping and rerolling until you've used it all up.

Bake for 5-10 minutes, depending on the size and thickness of your shapes, or until golden and crispy.

Friday, 4 May 2012

Beetroot, Celeriac and Red Onion Rosti

This is going to be one of my worst blog posts in the whole (year long) history of this blog. Not that the food wasn't tasty - it was - nor because I'd never make it again - I'm already planning to. But because I didn't follow a recipe, didn't know what I was doing, and it didn't really work properly. Has that whetted your appetite to read further?

The thing is, our fridge seemed to be overflowing with beetroot and I was getting bored of roasting it. Celeriac and red onion were also getting perilously near the end of their natural lives. I wanted to combine them all but didn't quite fancy a magenta mash, and a gratin seemed gratuitously greedy (how's that for alliteration?). Then, like a flash of bright pink lightning, the idea of a rosti popped into my head. Genius, don't you think? Admittedly, I'd never made a rosti before, and I didn't really take the time to look up a recipe but come on. We had a food processor to do the difficult bit - pow pow pow and I'd have a whole heap of shredded veg. Then all I had to do was cook it. How hard could it be?

Ha! Well, the first thing you should know is that I was wrong. As it turns out, cooking my downfall here. I tried two ways, on two successive nights, and neither really worked - my beautiful shredded beetroot showed no inclination whatsoever to hold a shape. Does anyone know how to make this stuff stick together? Should I have used an egg, or squeezed out the juice, or chilled it first, or what? What do you mean, "maybe you should have followed a recipe"?

The main thing here is that this worked just enough that I could see a proper version of this would really be something special, and definitely worthy of your attention. We ate it with poached salmon one night and sausages the next and each time, it was delicious - if I may say so, particularly inspired with the salmon. But it just didn't quite work as well as I know it could, and I really want to try again. Please help me, people of the internet! I've almost scrubbed the pink off my hands, it must be time to try again.

Beetroot, Celeriac and Red Onion Rosti
Serves 4 - easy to halve if you're not that hungry
- 2 raw beetroot, peeled
- 1 medium celeriac, peeled
- 2 red onions, peeled
- 2 teaspoons of creamed horseradish
- 2 heaped tablespoons of flour
- salt and pepper (big pinches of each)
- drizzle of olive oil
This is basically a chance to play with your food processor - if you haven't got one, it'd take days and days of your life to chop it all up so I'd say just cook mash instead. With the machinery, put in the grating blade (I went for coarse but fine would have been better, I think) and just bung in all the veg, bash bash bash, down they go. Ta-dah! Shredded.

This is where this stops being a recipe and starts being a discussion of what I did which didn't really work. I didn't squeeze out the juice because I didn't have a clean teatowel that I was happy to turn pink, but it might have been a good idea. I just decanted it all to a big bowl and mixed in the flour, horseradish, salt and pepper and oil. Other additions might be nice too - maybe some dill, chives or parsley? Replace the horseradish with mustard? I didn't add an egg, but it might have been helpful in getting it to hold together - what do you think?
I tried two different ways of cooking it, as you can see in these photos. The first night, I shaped it into small patties and put them in a hot, oiled frying pan - all well and good until I tried to turn them and they just fell to bits. So I added more of the mix to make one big (frying-pan sized) rosti, cooked for a few minutes more on the hob then put in the oven for 10-15 minutes to cook through. Result: delicious, but not entirely what I was going for.

The second night, I shaped handfuls of the shredded veg into small rounds, put them on a lined baking sheet, drizzled with olive oil and baked for 15-20 minutes. They still fell apart, and were not quite as delicious as the part-fried ones - although still very tasty.

So I'm afraid I don't really have any suggestions - just a whole load of questions. What should I have done? Does anyone have a failsafe method? 
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