Free Nigella Bites by Nigella Lawson Page A

first) on top of it and sprinkle a little more flour on top of that. Then roll it out to a thickness of about half a centimetre. This dough is such a dream to work that it makes this a rather pleasurable activity.
    Cut into shapes, dipping the cutter into flour as you go, and place the cut-out biscuits a little apart on the baking sheets.
    Bake for 8–12 minutes, by which time they will be lightly golden around the edges but otherwise still quite pale. Cool on a rack – they do firm up when they’re cold – and continue with the rest of the dough.
    It’s hard to be accurate about the number of biscuits you’ll get out of this mixture without knowing what cutters you’ll be using, but in general I reckon on making 60 biscuits out of the above quantities.
    As for the icing: who am I to interfere with the artist within you? All I would do is urge you to try and get hold of the colour pastes which come in little tubs (and can be bought from specialised cake shops and increasingly, though not with such an expansive range, in supermarkets) rather than use those little bottles of liquid food colouring. The choice of colours is better, for one thing, and they don’t water down the icing when you add them.

CHAPTER SIX
TRASHY
    Enjoying food, enjoying eating, isn’t about graduating with honours from the Good Taste university. I’m not interested in pleasing food snobs or purists, or in eating just one type of food. Yes, I want whatever I do eat to be good, but there is surely a place – and in my heart a very fond one – for a bit of kitsch in the kitchen.
    Ham in Coca-Cola
    Sweetcorn Pudding
    South-Beach Black Bean Soup
    Cornbread-On-The-Cob
    Watermelon Daiquiri
    Southern-Style Chicken
    Elvis Presley’s Fried Peanut-Butter and Banana Sandwich
    Deep-Fried Bounties with Pineapple
    Chocolate-Lime Cheesecake
    HAM IN COCA-COLA
    This recipe is from How to Eat, with some rejigging (just because it’s not in my nature to leave completely alone), and I don’t apologise for reproducing, or rather recasting, it because I simply cannot urge you to try this strongly enough. The first time I made it, it was, to be frank, really just out of amused interest. I’d heard, and read, about this culinary tradition from the deep South, but wasn’t expecting it, in all honesty, to be good. The truth is it’s magnificent, and makes converts of anyone who eats it. But, if you think about it, it’s not surprising it should work: the sweet, spiky drink just infuses it with spirit of barbecue. I have to force myself to cook ham any other way now; though often I don’t bother with the glaze but just leave it for longer in the bubbling Coke instead.
    And the salty, sweet liquor it leaves behind in the pot after it’s cooked makes an instant base for the most fabulous black bean soup.
    But just one thing before we start: don’t even consider using Diet Coke; it’s full-fat or nothing.
    Serves 8
    2kg mild-cure gammon
    1 onion, peeled and cut in half
    2-litre bottle of Coca-Cola
    for the glaze:
    handful of cloves
    1 heaped tablespoon black treacle
    2 teaspoons English mustard powder
    2 tablespoons demerara sugar
    I find now that mild-cure gammon doesn’t need soaking, but if you know that you’re dealing with a salty piece, then put it in a pan covered with cold water, bring to the boil, then tip into a colander in the sink and start from here; otherwise, put the gammon in a pan, skinside down if it fits like that, add the onion, then pour over the Coke. Bring to the boil, reduce to a good simmer, put the lid on, though not tightly, and cook for just under 2½ hours. If your joint is larger or smaller, work out timing by reckoning on an hour per kilo, remembering that it’s going to get a quick blast in the oven later. But do take into account that if the gammon’s been in the fridge right up to the moment you cook it, you will have to give it a good 15 minutes or so extra so that the interior is properly cooked.
    Meanwhile, preheat the