All language subtitles for Nigella.At.My.Table.S01E03.1080p.WEB-DL.AAC2.0.H.264-squalor

This is very delicious.

A table is more than a piece of furniture,
just as food is more than mere fuel.

When I moved into my
first home many years ago,

before I did anything
else, I bought a table -

and not just to eat
at, but to live around.

Chin chin, amici.
Cheers. Same to you.

At my table, when I'm winding
down at the end of a long day,

they're ready for me,

and I'm ready for them.

Celebrating friendship
at weekend feasts,

or making memories with
family, the food I eat is vibrant

and varied... but
always relaxed.

Old favourites -
so far, so good -

and fresh discoveries.

I need to be alone
with my sandwich now.

The comfort of the familiar, combined
with the exuberance of the new.

Oh, I can hear how
good this is going to be,

the essential
welcoming taste of home.

There's no elegant
way to eat them,

and that's in their favour.

Whether I'm pottering about at the stove or sitting
at the table, I want pleasure. I want flavour,

and I want ease.

Life can be complicated.

Cooking doesn't have to be.

♪ ♪

This may not look like a carrot
cake, but it is a carrot cake.

It's my carrot cake,

and it's very different from
the richly sweet and loftily

layered American original.

In fact, 'nubbly' with
crystallized ginger, and walnuts

and gloriously adorned with
them, it does look rather more like

a cosy old-fashioned, English tea
time treat. And I often eat it like that.

But even more often I bring
out at the end of dinner, and it's

one of my most
successful puddings.

I have yet to make it without
someone asking for the recipe.

My carrot cake is relaxingly
simple to make, just a bowl

and a wooden spoon number.

I start off by coarsely grating
200g of carrots, and chopping up

75g of crystallised ginger.

Then I break up a 100g of
walnut halves, into small pieces.

Next, I want
200g of plain flour,

half a teaspoon of bicarb, a
teaspoon of baking powder

and a quarter of a teaspoon of salt. And now for
the warm spice - two teaspoons of ground ginger

and just fork
everything together.

Moving on, I tip 175g of soft, light
brown sugar into a large mixing bowl,

and crack over two eggs, then
pour in 200ml of vegetable oil.

These just need to
be mixed together.

Then I gradually add
the dry ingredients,

and stir until
everything's combined.

Into the bowl go
my grated carrots.

And I stir these in before
adding the walnut pieces

and then the golden
chopped crystallised ginger.

Once everything's combined, I dollop the
mixture into a lined 20cm springform tin.

I give it a good rap on the
counter to help level the batter.

I bake it in the oven at 170
degrees for about 45 minutes.

Then I leave it to cool
before I start on the icing.

Just as with a traditional carrot
cake, I'm making a cream cheese icing.

I start off with 100g
of soft, unsalted butter

and 100g of icing sugar.

I'm going to beat
these together.

And now a teaspoon of cornflour.

This helps the icing
stay nice and thick.

And I want 100g of cream cheese, but this
has to be cold straight from the fridge.

And give it a little
mix so it's combined.

And this is no ordinary cream cheese icing because
I want everything shot through with ginger.

And I don't know if I've ever
shown you my ginger juicing trick,

but it's a crucial part
of my cooking life.

So, coarsely grate some
ginger out onto a plate.

I want about a tablespoonful.

And now - not
pretty, but effective -

a piece of kitchen paper.

Moving swiftly, I don't want to
get the paper soggy straight away.

I draw up each corner.

So I've got like
a little swag bag

and just press on. And you
can see that juice coming out.

I should get about a teaspoon of juice from
a tablespoonful of coarsely grated ginger,

and it is so intense.

I do this all the time,
on soups, and stews,

and curries and cakes.

Right, let's give it
a little stir together.

And all that's left for me to do
is swirl this on top of the cake.

The thing about this cake, as I
said, it's not a traditional carrot cake.

It almost looks like a
blonde fruitcake here,

all rather lovely,
lumpy and bumpy.

And there's only one layer of
icing, which I think is perfect...

But a generous layer.

I've got a few more
chopped walnuts,

and a little more crystallised
ginger chopped up my sleeve.

And these

get scattered on top
- utterly gorgeous.

Ahh, instant, "eat me appeal," if
you ask me... and even if you don't.

A pale gold sparkle.

Oh, and it's an absolute
winner every time.

I absolutely loathe clothes
shopping, but I can spend hours

in places like this, looking for
things to make my table beautiful.

It's something of a
weakness of mine.

But, anyway, my table's going to look lovely
enough because I've got friends coming for supper

and I'm giving them my
verdi-glorious herbed leg of lamb.

And alongside there's
garlicky roast potatoes with feta

and oregano. Oh, and pudding.

Pudding is my new go-to, a
very special chocolate mousse.

(Overlapping speech)

A roast leg of lamb
is such a luxury

and a treat. It deserves
to be celebrated.

And my way of doing that
is by anointing the meat with

a fresh green paste, the chief
component of which, is oregano.

It's very hard to describe
exactly what oregano tastes like.

It's certainly got a bitterness,
but also such sweet warmth.

I want a whole small bunch

of oregano here, a small
bunch but a whole bunch.

And now a time-honoured
partnership, lamb and Rosemary.

I need less of the Rosemary
because it is very pungent and resin-y.

And you could eat
lamb without garlic,

but it would seem to me to
be an unnecessary deprivation.

I've got four fat cloves here.

And meat without salt is an
abomination not to be contemplated.

I'll get the two.

I need oil - regular olive oil -
to help turn this into a paste

and moisturise the meat.

And, finally from the
department of zing

and uplift, an orange

and a lemon.

Zest of both.

This is where most
of the flavour lies -

and lemon.

And I want some juice - not too much
- but about two tablespoonfuls of each.

And I'm ready to blitz.

And now for the
lamb. There we are.

I want to make a few incisions
so that the paste infuses the meat.

So this is my psycho moment,
"eee ee, ee ee, ee ee, ee!"

It's a very runny paste,

so I'm just gonna spoon

the green paste
over the pink meat.

Give it a little bit of a massage
to help the paste go into the meat.

When it roasts, the
greenness recedes.

And what starts off really as a
marinade, ends up as a fresh tasting crust.

It's a soft crust and browned

in parts.

But, for now, I'm just gonna
leave the lamb here to steep

a little before I
put it in the oven.

I pour some just boiled
water into the tin, to come

about half a centimetre up, which
keeps the meat lusciously tender,

and gives me gravy later.

This goes into an oven at
180 degrees, for around an hour

and 40 minutes.

Wherever I go, I pick up
ideas for what I want to eat.

I love Australia, but the
lure for me isn't the sun.

I mean, I shy away from
that. But the food - and over

the years, I have eaten my
way very happily through Sydney,

and I've recently discovered
the joys of western Australia.

But when I was last in Melbourne,
I ate the best chips of my life.

They're fried in
garlic-steeped oil.

And then, once they're out of the
pan, they're tossed with crumbled feta

and dried oregano.
And I am normally

quite a prissy chip purist,
but I was won over to the point

of obsession - actually, beyond
the point of obsession - by these.

I haven't tried to emulate them but, instead, inspired
by them, I've created my own homespun version.

I chunk up a tray full of potatoes.
I don't bother peeling them.

And pour over a good
few glugs of olive oil.

Then in goes a heady
amount of grated garlic

and lots of dried oregano.

Then I 'shmoosh'
them about to mix.

I love doing this by hand.

I roast these in a 220 degree
oven until they're crisp and golden.

No deep frying involved.

Deep happiness achieved.

Once the lamb with its soft herb
crust is out of the oven, I leave it

loosely tended with foil and let

it rest for up to 30 minutes.

Everything else is ready, i'm just going
to finish off my greco-Australian potatoes.

They're meltingly soft
in the inside, and crisp

and golden on the outside now.

You can never have
too many potatoes.

So just like the chips
I had in Melbourne,

these potatoes are going
to be sprinkled with feta.

There is just something about
the cool, smooth, saltiness of

the feta against the hot
crispness of the potatoes.

Now I'm going to toss these
because I want some of the bits of feta -

the smaller bits, particularly - to
start melting slightly in the warmth.

But I still want a sharp,
cool crumble on top.

And I know I've already got
the dried oregano in these,

but I cannot resist a final
fragrant flourish of fresh oregano.

And that's me done.

Right. There we are.

Do you want some
ice with it? Right.

Who can I help
to this? I'm very,

very pleased to hear it.

Well, thank you for
inviting us over. Any time.

That looks delicious.

Oh, well. Oh, well.
Yes, I love it. I love this.

For pudding, I'm making chocolate
mousse, but not chocolate mousse as

you know it, but an iberian-inspired
chocolate olive oil mousse.

I want four eggs, separated,
so far, so traditional.

And I want the eggs
at room temperature.

Well, I nearly always do -

and the last one.

Before I whisk the whites, I'm just
going to add a pinch of sea salt flakes.

And here goes.

I want firm peaks here.

Let's see. Yes, perfect.

And, before I whisk the yolks,
I want some sugar, just 50g.

It's caster sugar.

I want some salt in here too.

I suppose were I to measure, I'd say a
quarter of a teaspoon of sea salt flakes.

And it doesn't
make it taste salty.

It just brings balance. Somehow
you taste the chocolate all the more.

I want to whisk the yolks
until they're thickened

and about doubled in volume.

That's the whites done, the yolks
done... and now for the chocolate.

I've got 150g there, melted

and slightly cooled.

And on top of the
chocolate I'm going to pour

the olive oil,
extra virgin, 100ml.

I like a smooth

and spicy olive oil, nothing
too raspingly peppery.

Mix these together.

And the thing is, the olive oil
doesn't just bring its resonant flavour.

It also creates such a
voluptuously smooth and soft texture.

And now I'm going to pour
this glossy mixture into the yolks,

in a steady stream.
That's the idea.

Mmm.

This is really good
bitter chocolate, 70%.

Don't be tempted to go higher though because
you'll end up with a powdery texture.

Right, I'm gonna fold in the
egg whites, a third at a time.

And you can be pretty
brutal with the first go.

Just stir it in.

The first dollop really is just to make the
rest of the egg whites easier to fold in.

Right. So, if I want this is thirds,
it's half what's in the bowl now.

And now,

gently fold.

The texture of this mousse is not super aerated as
you would have in a traditional chocolate mousse,

but I still don't want to
beat out those bubbles.

And the last bit.

I know this seems very last minute
but, unlike a traditional mousse

which needs to sit in the fridge
for a good, long time to set,

the whole point of this chocolate olive
oil mousse is that the texture isn't set.

It's soft and smooth.

So my chocolate mousse is
made, but now for the difficult part.

I have to fill these glasses.

Just ignore me, because i'm
going to have to concentrate.

They're pretty small these
glasses, but believe me - and you

know you can - you
don't need anything bigger.

This is fabulously rich.

Right, the last one.

I like a little pause before
pudding, which is good

as these need 20 minutes
in the fridge before eating.

Right. Wow!

I'm going to pass this to you.

I love these. I love chocolate.

You know what? It's
feels a bit like two course.

Delicious. Very, yeah.

It's perfect. I'm going
to finish this in a minute.

It's very light.

Yeah.

While I love having friends over,
I never need an excuse to eat.

There are two rules in life.

One - everything is better
between two slices of bread.

And, two - everything is
better when it's deep-fried.

Now, normally when I want to
eat deep-fried food I like to go out

and let someone else get hot

and bothered on my behalf.

But my coconut
shrimp are so easy

and so unruffling to make, I am
more than happy to cook them

every time I need to eat
them... and that is very often.

And to go with my
hot, crisp and juicy

shrimp, I make a cool, smooth

and golden dipping sauce.

It's incredibly simple.

To a bowl of coconut milk
yoghurt, I add sea salt flakes

and ground turmeric.

Stir everything together and that's
it - the work of a mere moment.

So my golden yoghurt can
mellow in flavour and deepen

in tone while I get on with
my dredging operation.

It's a bit of a production
line but it's not complicated.

Rice flour for
the initial dredge,

which is grittier than
regular plain flour, and seems

to add an extra
rustling crispness.

Into my second dish, an egg.

I'm gonna mix the
egg with a little sea salt.

And into my third dish, some desiccated coconut
or, as we call it in our home, desecrated coconut.

And those dried strands
make the prawns look

like they're wearing a hairy
jacket once they've been fried.

On top of this, some panko.

Now panko are
Japanese breadcrumbs.

And, actually, breadcrumbs is a bit of a misnomer
because they're flakes rather than crumbs.

And, again, very dry, which
makes everything incredibly crunchy.

The mild sweetness of the
coconut needs a bit of a kick.

For that, I have cayenne pepper.

I'll just mix this
with my hands.

Before I start
dredging and dipping,

I'm going to tell you about this new
method I'm trying because normally

when I do this sort of thing, I
get what I call goujon fingers,

which means I have these balls of rather
claggy breadcrumbs at the end of each finger.

So I'm going to try and do

something that I was taught,
which is you keep one hand

for wet ingredients

and one hand for dry. I'm
nominating my left hand for wet,

and my right for dry. So the prawns
are wet, so they go in my left hand.

These are raw prawns
and they're fresh.

I don't use frozen because the liquid they
give out would make the oil spit too much.

The rice flour is dry, so i'm
going to use my right hand and first

sprinkle a bit on top of
the prawns to cover them,

and then turn them.

Ok so, dry hand I'm going to
drop them into the eggs wet.

The rice flour really
helps the egg adhere.

The egg is wet, so I'm going
to use my left hand now to turn.

And then I lift up each prawn

and waggle it over the egg
to get rid of any excess, and in

it goes to the
coconut and panko.

There you are.

And, again, I'm going to cover
the prawns a bit with this mixture

- right hand because
it's dry of course -

before I turn them.
And I really think

it's important at this stage to
give them a proper, thick coating.

And I like to press and scrunch

a bit. Just turn everything.

So far, so good.

And these plump little babies can sit
here for safekeeping just for the mo.

And that was so much
fun I'm going in again. Yes.

I have got quite a few more prawns
to use up but I'm very eager now

to get onto the eating
part of the process.

So I'll turn the heat
on under the oil.

And, while it heats up, i'm
going to have a bit of a clean-up.

The oil's good and hot now,

so these plump little commas
are ready to be dropped in.

When I say 'dropped
in', go gently.

Here we are.

The best sound.

It's important the oil is properly
hot, because this means by the time

the outside is good and golden,

the insides will be cooked,
but still succulent and tender.

Right. And, while that's carrying
on, I'm going to get my sauce ready.

Look at this now,
golden ointment.

Basket - my spider - let's
see how this is all... ah!

They're done.
They're ready for me,

and I'm ready for them.

Hot, crisp prawns.
Cool, smooth dip.

And inside all that crispness, the prawns
are so lusciously tender, I'm going in again.

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