Abensur - The Cranks Bible: A Timeless Collection of Vegetarian Recipes

Contents

This year marks fifteen years since The Cranks Bible was first published and it seems like an excellent time to revisit the book and all that it stands for. In the years since its initial publication, the food revolution has gathered momentum, and healthy eating has become a global phenomenon. We are, and rightly so, demanding good food that is responsibly sourced, organically grown and sensitively cooked.

Veganism has moved from the fringes to become commonplace. Raw food eating has a devoted following. And there has been an explosion of new (to us) ingredients. When I first wrote The Cranks Bible, quinoa was just beginning to make an appearance light and easily digested by most, it held the promise of good health, immunity and nourishment for both body and soul. Now the vogue is for cacao in its purest form, chia seeds, almonds, blueberries, broccoli sprouts, fermented foods, coconut in all its guises: milk, cream, sugar, flakes, flour and oil.

A new generation of clean eating foodies has emerged, influenced by the wholefood tables of the Sixties and Seventies the scene into which Cranks first opened its doors for lovers of fresh, vibrant and ethically-sourced ingredients. And in no time over the last twenty years has the Cranks philosophy of nature knows best been more pertinent.

A seismic change is taking place and many of the items that parade as food on our supermarket shelves are being recognised for the negative effects they have on our health and wellbeing. But I am keen to urge caution too. While we know more now than we did, we still do not see the whole picture. The answer might not be to eliminate ingredients from our diet, demonizing first one then the other fat one decade, sugar the next, dairy the one after that

For me, the real food revolution begins at home. Start growing your own food, even if its just herbs in pots. Get your hands dirty. Re-establish the connection between what comes out of the ground and what you put in your mouth. Turn your back by all means on food that is processed beyond recognition but know the difference. A burger or lasagne mass-produced in a soulless factory with theaddition of umpteen additives is a far cry from a burger or a lasagne lovingly made at home with natural, well-sourced ingredients.

My philosophy is everything in moderation and a little of what you fancy does you good. I am not going to give you a puritanical list of dos and donts, shoulds and shouldnts. Many of the recipes in this book are gluten-free, some omit dairy and sugar, but the emphasis is always on taste and enjoyment. There are treats and indulgences, such as a rich and silky chocolate mousse cake () which uses potatoes sauted until golden and wholemeal pastry folded with a generous quantity of butter. I still assemble these pies in heart-shaped tins because food is about love for the body, mind and soul.

The recipes in this book are timeless: they often have ancient roots, even when they are made contemporary through new methods and flavour combinations. They make use of ingredients many of our grandparents would have enjoyed, and they assume a degree of responsibility on the part of the cook and the mouths he or she feeds.

Fight the good fight but put food in its right place, share in the bonhomie it encourages and enjoy. Everything else is unnecessary complication.

Nadine Abensur, 2016

Cashew nut butter brownies
by competition winner, Nicette Ammar

Its the Cranks belief that nobody knows great tasting, wholesome vegetarian food better than its fans, so to celebrate this new edition Cranks ran a competition asking its followers on Twitter and Facebook to create a recipe to be featured in the book. The winner was Nicette Ammar, whose cashew nut butter brownies combine sumptuous dark chocolate with wholemeal flour and healthy cashews for an irresistible treat.

Nicettes association with Cranks goes back for longer than she cares to remember. As a teenager, she frequented the Dartington branch of Cranks when it first opened and she fondly remembers the sustaining power of the cheese baps and date slices! She blogs about her love of food at Tin & Thyme: Tales from a Cornish Kitchen.

SERVES 12

150 g/5 oz dark chocolate

80 g/3 oz coconut oil

200 g/7 oz rapadura/dried cane juice (light brown sugar can be used as an alternative to raw sugar if preferred)

3 large eggs

60 g/2 oz wholemeal flour

1 heaped tsp cocoa powder

tsp bicarbonate of soda

tsp cream of tartar

2 heaped tbsp cashew nut butter

Preheat the oven to 180C/350F/gas mark 4.

Melt the chocolate and coconut oil together in a large pan over a low heat until smooth. Remove the pan from the heat and stir in the rapadura, then beat in the eggs, one at a time. Sift the dry ingredients into the mixture and stir until just combined. Pour the mixture into a 20-cm/10-inch square silicone mould or lined tin.

Spoon the cashew nut butter on top and then swirl amongst the batter to distribute evenly. Bake in the middle of the preheated oven for 25 minutes or until almost firm, but with a slight wobble in the middle. Take the brownies out of the oven and allow them to cool before cutting into 12 squares.

Even if spring is off to a slow start, youll find artichokes from Italy, locally grown rocket and precious Jersey Royals to take home in proper paper bags. As the pace builds up, revel in bundles of English asparagus and be justifiably proud. Enjoy crisp, sweet peas in the pod and diminutive broad beans. Then, as summer and heaven let loose, I hardly need tell you that apart from the drippingly ripe fruit, there are salad vegetables from the four corners of the earth. Pray for a little sunshine and take it all outdoors, borrowing freely from the inspiration and cooking of the Mediterranean.

Fennel and almond soup with cardamom

This is my fifth cookery book, so I approach writing about fennel with a sense of trepidation mixed with dj vu. How can I once again sing its praises with such abandon or recount childhood memories once more? How can I not? I know it has its detractors, those who recoil at the aniseed flavour (so gentle, benevolent and healing when cooked).

Ive seen a pendulum swing though, since fennels slow re-introduction to the British palate. Fewer people than before turn their noses up at it.

I have harboured a passion for fennel since I was very small. I remember it piled high in Moroccan markets, and I would stroke its generous soft fronds a far cry from the individually wrapped bulbs of modern food emporiums. We never bought it singly, piece by piece, but by the kilo, carried home in multi-coloured rope baskets.

Few things awaken nostalgia in me quite like fennel and, despite the fact that it is now commonly available, it never feels commonplace. This should always be true but I experience a sense of gratitude every single time I cook and eat it: definitely one of my desert island top 10.

SERVES 46

2 tbsp sunflower oil, preferably organic