I was in search of cool food for a hot day: crisp green cucumbers and ripe, apricot-hued melon; a thin-skinned balloon of burrata and its milky heart. A blue and white tub of yoghurt, thick enough to stand in snowy peaks. Ingredients that make you feel cool just by looking at them. There’s a bunch each of mint and watercress, too, herbs that carry both an icy chill and peppery warmth. A cucumber and watercress sandwich with cold, unsalted butter and soft white bread is an understated summer treat.
I stirred both watercress and mint into the thick yoghurt and folded through it a good handful of coarsely grated cucumber, a few salted capers and chopped cornichons. More green than white, it would have made a soothing ointment for a wedge of cold salmon or for eating alongside a plate of silver and black sardines, their skin scorched and crisp by the grill. Instead, we ate it with puffy, nigella-freckled flatbreads, home-baked and still warm from the pan. The flat pancakes of dough cook in minutes in a cast-iron pan on the hob, allowing you to tend to their welfare as the soft discs plump up into tiny brown cushions. Each one done and dusted in 10 minutes.
As much as I like the simplicity of the traditional Greek tzatziki, with its bare essentials of cucumber and yoghurt, I tend to treat it as a diving board from which to dive, introducing piercingly hot wasabi, chopped watercress, fresh mint leaves or basil depending on what it is to accompany. Capers and cornichons, fried curry leaves and hot green peppercorns are but a handful of possibilities. It is the best of all sauces for a filo-topped spinach pie.
The watermelons are extraordinary at the moment. I have taken to hacking one into triangles first thing in the morning and leaving them in the fridge to gorge on all day. They add a crisp and refreshing note to a ceviche (raw fish, prawns or scallops, lime juice, coriander and a dash of thinly sliced chilli). Though best added just before you eat as they will send the dressing a little watery.
I have been on the lookout for gooseberries and the first of the season will go straight into the freezer. Everything you can do with a gooseberry – the classic, sour, green variety – be it crumble, cake, pie or fool, is just as good made with a frozen berry as with a fresh one. The only problem is getting hold of them during their short season. The sweeter, purple-blushed varieties are a different matter and best eaten fresh, or cooked under a hot grill with a little sugar, then piled on to toasted brioche, their caramelised juices trickled over them.
Well cool: mint and watercress tzatziki, nigella flatbreads
Mint and watercress tzatziki, nigella flatbreads
Enough for 4. Ready in 2 hours.
The yoghurt needs to be cold. As does the cucumber. The contrast between the icy dip and the warm bread is, if not crucial, certainly preferable and is what makes baking your own flatbread worth the trouble. If you have no nigella seeds, use sesame instead, either white or black.
For the flatbread:
strong white plain flour 500g
sea salt ½ tsp
dried yeast 7g
warm water 350ml
olive oil 2 tbsp
nigella seeds about 2 tbsp
For the tzatziki:
cucumber 350g
sea salt 2 tsp
Greek-style yoghurt 350g thick
olive oil 2 tbsp
mint leaves 5g
dill 5g
capers 2 tsp
cornichons 4
watercress 25g
Put the flour into the bowl of a food mixer fitted with a dough hook or beater attachment. Turn on the machine and add the salt and dried yeast.
When thoroughly mixed, introduce the warm water and continue mixing to a firm dough. Pour in the olive oil and continue mixing for 3-4 minutes. The dough should be firm but slightly springy to the touch.
Turn the dough out of the bowl, rub the inside lightly with a little oil, then return the dough to the bowl, cover with a clean cloth and place in a warm place for about an hour.
Make the cucumber dip: coarsely grate the cucumber into a sieve or colander. Sprinkle the salt over the cucumber and leave over a bowl or in the sink for 30 minutes.
Stir together the yoghurt, olive oil and a grinding of black pepper. Squeeze the cucumber in your fist to remove as much water as possible, then mix with the yoghurt.
Finely chop the mint and dill and stir in together with the capers. Finely dice the cornichons and add them to the dip. Chop the watercress leaves and stems and stir in. Refrigerate until needed, giving the ingredients a last-minute stir as you bring it to the table.
Continue with the flatbreads: check that the dough has risen up to almost double its original size and feels puffy to the touch.
Turn the dough out on to a floured board or work surface and tear or cut into 12 pieces, each weighing roughly 60g. Roll or press each one into a flat disc about 6cm in diameter. Press a couple of pinches of nigella seeds into each as you go. As each one is completed, place it on a baking sheet.
Warm a flat or ridged griddle, or a wide, dry frying pan over a moderate heat. Wait until it is hot – you should only be able to hold your hand above it for a few seconds – then lay a few of the discs of dough on the pan or griddle and leave to cook for about 5 minutes, then turn and cook the other side. Your bread should be a patchwork of pale gold and dark brown. As they become ready, remove to a clean tea cloth to keep warm and continue with another batch.
If you wish, add a final scattering of mint, dill and capers to the dip, then trickle with a little olive oil, and eat with the warm flatbreads.
Photographs by Jonathan Lovekin
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