The Biggest Food Technology Advances of 2018

If the food-centric technological advancements of 2018 are any indication, humans are closer than ever to a world in which they no longer have to interact with each other at restaurants, and the very act of consumption may soon be in for a major disruption. Automated delivery vehicles, robot cooks and servers, and new ways to experience flavor and meet daily nutritional standards will soon be the status quo. Here's a look back at the major food tech advances of 2018.

Gadgets, gizmos, and dodads galore

In January, at the Consumer Electronics Show in Las Vegas, Pizza Hut and Toyota teamed up to announce a terrifying driverless concept vehicle that, once the plans comes to fruition, will cook pies and deliver them straight to customers' doors. For some reason, the two companies designed this thing to look like a giant toaster on wheels instead of, say, a normal-looking car or truck that wouldn't scare the living daylights out of any innocent pedestrians or motorists in its path. The “e-Pallette,” as the vehicle is called, will reportedly debut in 2020. Pizza Hut's U.S. president Artie Starrs says it will allow his company to “define the pizza delivery experience of the future.”

In other displays at CES, tech enthusiasts gazed upon kitchen appliances with built-in tablets and Amazon Alexa connectivity, bottle openers attached to bluetooth speakers, and robots that both deliver beer and serve food and drink at the airport.

But the most interesting product may have been a countertop dishwasher that also boasts the ability to cook seafood: The Heatworks Tetra will be appreciated for its compact size and the ability to make its owners rationalize their living situations. If one has the ability to avoid washing dishes by hand and steam lobster in their own 350-square-foot home, things can't be too bad, right? Pair this with BuzzFeed's new single-burner smart induction cooktop, and anyone can transform an abode the size of Elaine Benes's cleaning-closet apartment into a professional restaurant kitchen.

Replacing old foods with new sensations

Those who are growing tired of the increasingly annoying marketing stunts and online personas cultivated by major fast-food brands will be wishing for simpler times if Soylent, a bottled solid-food replacement developed (and mostly consumed) by Silicon Valley tech bros, breaks into the mainstream. Despite a history of causing violent illnesses with its complex recipes, in February, chief executive officer Bryan Crowley proclaimed Soylent is “coming for fast food.” He went on to ominously say, “This isn't a tech product — when people see it, we want them to think about food.” While Crowley's goals are ambitious, it could be tough for Soylent to overcome the obstacle of being a product that people need reminding is food.

A more optimistic development in the science of eating came from New York City-based startup Analytical Flavor Systems, which in May revealed it is attempting to use artificial intelligence to create hyper-personalized flavors for snack foods. The company's Gastrograph AI platform aims to bring about “a day when we'll each have a Doritos of our own.” In addition to a whole new world of flavor, the future looks bright for the avocado, the berry that is so beloved by millennials and so loathed by mortgage lenders. In June, Apeel Sciences, a startup with backers that include billionaire Microsoft founder Bill Gates, announced it had found a way to keep avocados at peak ripeness for twice as long, a development that is expected to decrease food waste in supermarket produce sections. Maybe the future isn't doomed to be a dystopian nightmare, after all.

The robots are taking over

Or, maybe it is. At its I/O conference in May, Google unveiled AI technology that allows restaurants to use a robotic voice-answering service to take reservations, and the voice is so well done, it can trick diners into believing they're on the phone with a real person. The program is getting smarter and more intuitive with each reservation it takes, and it seems to be a safe bet high-powered executives will one day employ their own disembodied robotic voices to book tables at fancy restaurants. While we are reportedly still far away from an era of robots calling other robots on the phone, it doesn't take much imagination to jump to the end of the page and see what the inventor, author, and futurist Ray Kurzweil termed as an age of spiritual machines, when technologies created by humans will evolve beyond human intelligence and begin to experience human emotions.

Japanese Fast Food Chain Mos Burger Is In Trouble

This hasn't been a good past few months for one of my favorite fast food chains, Mos Burger.

With more than just tasty burgers, Mos Burger (Mountain Ocean Sun Burger) has cultivated its image of being a healthy alternative to McDonald's. Advertisements tout domestic produce and freshness, going as far as listing where the veggies are grown and posting photos of farmers on Facebook.

Myself included.

However, recently, things do not look good for Mos.

Last August, twenty-eight customers at Mos Burger restaurants across Japan got food poisoning. According to Kyodo News, twelve of those customers had the O-121 strain of E. coli bacteria.

Mos Burger acknowledged that it was “highly likely” that its food was the cause.

The cases were reported at 19 locations in Chiba, Gunma, Kanagawa, Nagano, Saitama, Tokyo, Tochigi and Yamanashi. It was so bad, apparently, at a Nagano location that public health officials shut the restaurant down for three days and one sickened customer was hospitalized.

“We'll step up our sterilization of vegetables, which are believed to be a cause of the health problem,” a Mos Burger spokesperson told Kyodo.

After the food poisoning news broke last month, stock prices suddenly dropped 7.6 percent. Business Journal reports that sales were already down 5.2 percent year on year for the same period. There were also 5.9 percent fewer customers. This was before the food poisoning incidents.

There was also an article in Gendai Business pointing out how this is only the second time since Mos Burger's founding in 1972 that the fast food chain has suffered a sales slump. Twitter user Mulboyne has a good summary of the article.

A new threat, Mulboyne adds, is the rise of newly arrived American chains like Shake Shack and Carl's Junior, which are still small scale in Japan but have room to grow.

If that weren't enough, earlier this week, the Japanese media reported how Mos Burger in South Korea was advertising how it didn't use any Japanese ingredients. This was apparently before the recent food poisoning cases and while not specifically stated, this appears to be related to lingering Fukushima concerns.

In South Korea, enough people are still worried about Japanese food safety for the fast food chain to print such a message on the food tray's paper placemat. “Please eat without worry! Mos Burger Korea does not use Japanese ingredients.”

In Japan many were angered by the message, believing that, the recent food poisoning problem aside, Japanese ingredients are safe and pass inspection. They viewed the message as an affront, with some calling the message discriminatory and anti-Japanese.

Among those Japanese TV interviewed in South Korea about the issue, one said that North Korean ingredients were safer than Japanese ones.

South Korean President Moon Jae-in has referred the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear disaster in speeches advocating for his country to change its energy policy, while the 2016 Korean film Pandora depicted a Fukushima-like nuclear disaster. This, along with vocal anti-nuclear protesters in South Korea, might explain why there are still concerns.

After the outcry in Japan, complete with people online swearing to never visit the chain again, Mos Burger South Korea replaced the controversial paper placement with an innocuous message about ordering takeout online. Mos Burger Japan also issued an apology.

A few years back, McDonald's Japan faced food scandals and a tremendous backlash. That fast food giant has since turned things around. It's now up to Mos Burger to do likewise.

Thai-style comfort food

It seems as if Mountain View's Amarin Thai Cuisine has been around forever. Twenty-six years of staying power means repeat business from a cadre of loyal customers, both old acquaintances and those newer in town. Amarin has won the Voice's Best of Mountain View Thai restaurant category every year since 1999.

At first glance, Amarin is just one in the long line of restaurants that flank Castro Street. Look again and you will notice that this restaurant is busier than most. It seats nearly 200, counting front and back patios, a private party room, and the traditional Thai dining room -- shoes off, sit on cushions at a low table.

Owner Supawan Pimsakul hails from Thailand and learned to cook from her mother. She is the master chef, creating the dishes and the menu. In the U.S. since 1980, Pimsakul said it was her family that encouraged her to open her first restaurant, Bangkok, in San Jose, in 1990. Other restaurants followed in Palo Alto, Sunnyvale and Santa Clara, but it was the Mountain View location that thrived.

Amarin's huge menu caused my head to spin. The restaurant wisely has a separate vegetarian menu but all the vegetarian dishes are included in the main menu as well.

If I had to choose one stand-out dish it would be the pumpkin red curry with chicken ($10.99): red and green bell peppers, chunks of pumpkin, tender chicken chunks and sweet basil. I wasn't quite prepared for the first bite. The spiciness took my breath away. My taste buds quickly adjusted and the soup-size bowl was a delight to dig into. Served with a vegetable soup appetizer, salad and rice, I spooned all the rice into the curry bowl to soak up the delicious broth.

The crisped spring rolls ($9.99) were a good starter. Served with a light plum sauce, the flaky, hot spring rolls were stuffed with cabbage, taro, carrot, celery, onion and bean thread noodles.

Another good appetizer was the angel wings ($10.99) -- two crisp, deboned chicken wings stuffed with ground chicken and bean thread noodles. There was a tasty side dish of vegetables in plum sauce with cucumber, red onion and crushed peanuts.

A young woman seated next to us inquired why there were no chopsticks. Chopsticks were never part of Thai culture. Thais ate with their fingers until Europeans introduced Western-style utensils. She was happy with spoon and fork -- and in Thailand, the fork is used to push food onto the spoon, never to eat with.

Thinly sliced barbeque honey pork with plum sauce ($12.99) had a crispy crust yet the meat was juicy and tender. Served with a vegetable soup, white rice and a small carrot salad, the rice had been rolled up tightly and looked like a small pillow on the plate. It wasn't just for looks. The rice remained compacted when forked and was an easy way to skewer both rice and pork on the fork at the same time.

I'm a sucker for spicy eggplant ($11.99) and Amarin's version did not disappoint. The eggplant had been sauteed with tofu and red and green bell peppers. Soft and unctuous, spongy and absorbent, eggplant is more acidic than other nightshades such as potatoes and peppers.

The spicy basil clams ($18.99) were surprisingly good. The menu said "stir-fried" and I had a different idea of what that was -- sans shell. These Manilla clams were served in the shell. I was dubious but the dish exceeded expectations. The generous portion of clams was supplemented with garlic, chili, salted soy bean, roasted chilis, bell pepper and sweet basil. It was a dish of texture, color and subtle flavors.

Pad kee maow was spicy pan-fried wide rice noodles with sweet basil, tomato, chili and garlic. Order it spicy, otherwise it can be very bland. You can opt to add chicken, prawns or calamari. We chose calamari ($13.99). The squid camouflaged itself with the noodles, but there was plenty of calamari and oodles of noodles.

Because Amarin is perpetually busy, service was harried but efficient and servers took time to explain dishes when asked.

Amarin has offered Thai comfort food, warm and satisfying, at reasonable prices in a contemporary setting, for over a quarter century. They're doing something right.

How to cook quiche lorraine

Often copied, never bettered, this simple combination of eggs and bacon in a crisp, buttery base is what every fancy flan secretly wants to be when it grows up. Essentially a savoury custard tart, rich with eggs and wonderfully wobbly, a real quiche lorraine bears little resemblance to meanly filled commercial imitations – so, if you want it done well, do it yourself.

Prep 20 min
Chill 50 min
Cook 1 hr 10 min
Serves 4

For the rough puff pastry
225g plain flour, plus extra for dusting
Salt
225g very cold butter, plus extra for greasing

For the filling
200g dry cure smoked streaky bacon, chopped
300ml double cream
6 eggs

1 Rub the butter into the flour
Start with the pastry, which is best done by hand. Tip the flour on to a clean work surface and add a good pinch of salt. Cut the butter into roughly 1cm cubes, then gently squidge the two together with your fingertips: you’re aiming for a mixture of small pieces of butter coated with flour, rather than the usual fine crumbs.

2 Add water to make a dough
Measure out 100ml of ice-cold water, then sprinkle a little over the top of the flour mixture and stir in. Repeat until it all comes together into a smooth, but not sticky dough (you probably won’t need all the water, unless you live somewhere very dry). Shape the dough into a flat square, wrap in clingfilm and chill for at least 20 minutes.

3 Prepare the tart tin and roll out the pastry
Meanwhile, grease a deep, loose-bottomed, 20-22cm tart tin. When you’re ready to bake, sprinkle a little flour on a clean work surface and roll out the dough into a rectangle roughly three times its original length. Fold the top third back into the centre, then bring the bottom third up to meet it, so you have three layers, like a concertina.

4 Fold the pastry, and chill
Turn the dough 90 degrees, then roll again to three times its length and repeat the folding process, so you’re left with another three-layered square. Roll out again, then line the greased tin with the pastry, leaving a few centimetres overhanging to minimise any shrinkage while it rests. Chill the pastry again for at least 30 minutes.

5 Line the tart case and blind bake
Meanwhile, wrap any excess pastry in clingfilm, in case you need it for emergency repair work later, and heat the oven and a baking tray to 200C/390F/gas 6. Take the tart tin out of the fridge, prick the pastry all over with a fork and line it with foil, shiny-side down. Fill to the brim with baking beans or uncooked rice, and bake for 25 minutes.

6 Start on the filling
Meanwhile, cut the bacon into strips, fry these until they start to crisp up, then set aside. Remove the beans and foil from the pastry and patch up any holes, if necessary. Bake for another 10 minutes. Separate one of the eggs, brush the white all over the base of the pastry (the yolk will go into the filling), then put back in the oven for another five minutes.

7 Prepare the eggs
Carefully trim off any overhanging pastry and set the tart shell aside. Turn down the oven to 170C/335F/gas 3. Separate another egg and put the yolk and the reserved yolk into a large jug with the four whole eggs. Beat together, then pour in the cream and whisk with a pinch of salt, until just combined.

8 Fill the tart and bake
Scatter half the bacon over the base, then pull out the oven shelf with the tray on it, making sure it’s stable. Transfer the tart tin to the hot tray, quickly pour in the egg filling and top with the remaining bacon. Gently push the shelf back into the oven and bake for about 35 minutes, until the filling is just wobbly in the centre. Leave to cool before eating.

9 Variations on the theme
This recipe is easily tweaked: try replacing the bacon with 150g grated hard cheese and/or two large onions, finely sliced and gently fried until golden brown; or 200g baby spinach, blanched and thoroughly squeezed dry. (Vegetables often give off water during cooking, so the likes of sun-dried tomatoes in oil or roast peppers work better than the fresh versions.)

How to eat like a chef for less than £20 a week

Food sustainability isn’t just about protecting our environment, it’s about protecting us, the consumers, and supporting the farmers who make our food.

Affordability is a key element of what a sustainable diet looks like. I call my approach Root to Fruit eating. It is a philosophy that aims to make it easier for people to cook good food, blending a little chef’s knowhow with academic research, and making it applicable to home cooks and professionals alike. My shopping list comes in at just over £18 a week – cheaper than the average national weekly spend per person of £24. Over a year, that’s a saving of about £300 while still enjoying top-quality food (I buy everything from my local independent health-food shop or market, or organic items from the supermarket. Of course, if you need to bring the cost of your shopping down further, buy non-organic). I’m a vegetarian, so there is no meat on my shopping list, and eating less meat is certainly a good way of keeping costs down. However, if you are buying meat, opt for cheaper cuts of higher-welfare animals.

Every head chef works to a tight budget to make a profit. When we invent a dish, we cost and portion it gram for gram to calculate a gross profit of 70-75%. So a dish we sell for £5 must cost less than £1.25 to make, including any waste, which we are always looking to minimise.

That margin is there to cover the cost of rent, staff, utilities and, if you’re lucky, a profit. But chefs love good produce, so they devise other ways to keep their costs down, turning scraps that cost pennies into a fine meal for which patrons are happy to pay pounds. Noma, for example – one of the best restaurants in the world – serves cod’s head as a main course. Taking on board a chef’s thrift in the kitchen will help you save money while eating healthily and sustainably – as my guide and recipes show.

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Food deals are the forgotten bread and butter issues of Brexit

Rulers, wrote the Roman poet Juvenal, survive by providing the people with bread and circuses. His observation has acquired a twisted relevance in recent years. Brexit has become a political circus without the laughs while the duty to provide bread has become criminally neglected. These two aberrations are deeply connected.

Food policy has been a central concern of governments throughout history. As recently as 1957, article 39 of the treaty of Rome, the EU’s founding document, set out the aims of a planned common agricultural policy (CAP), which included ensuring “a fair standard of living for the agricultural community”, “the availability of supplies” and “that supplies reach consumers at reasonable prices”.

The eventual CAP that emerged fell well short of these ideals, but it is striking how clear it was to those who signed up that it was vitally important to have a food system, from producer to consumer, that was efficient and fair to all.

However, decades of seeming plenty, with supermarket aisles full of cheap, enticing products, moved food off the list of political priorities. cold war images of people queuing for bread in the Soviet Union reinforced the belief that government’s only role in feeding its people was to enable a free market. The fundamental principle of food policy was reduced to Adam Smith’s famous line: “It is not from the benevolence of the butcher, the brewer, or the baker that we expect our dinner, but from their regard to their own interest.”

Two new reports published today suggest that with Brexit looming we need to put food back at the top of the political agenda. A policy briefing by the Soil Association shows how the rules of global food trade affect public health as well as economies. It suggests that if Britain entered into a trade deal with the US along the lines of the North American Free Trade Area (Nafta), we can expect rising obesity. This is exactly what happened in Canada and Mexico after they joined Nafta. As cheaper, ultra-processed, high-sugar foods became more widely imported from the US, people understandably ate more of them.

The same briefing cites a study from the Harvard School of Public Health which shows that increases in obesity in countries such as India and China are associated with trade liberalisation. Open trade is like an open mind: if it’s too open, everyone pours in their junk.

The briefing illustrates how when we think about combating obesity we often focus too much on public education and not enough on the design of food systems. The word “design” is deliberate. The “market” is not a natural entity. The nature of any market is shaped by the rules and regulations that govern it. The US market with its perverse subsidies delivers foods stuffed with high-fructose corn syrup. Almost all markets, by refusing to make producers pay for the negative environmental impacts of their farming methods, reward those who use the most rapacious methods and punish those whose careful stewardship costs more in the short term. The question is not whether governments fashion the food supply, but how they choose to do so.

One reason why governments have been reluctant to step up to the dinner plate is that food policy has not been the electorate’s priority. Gradually, however, people are waking up to the reality that it should be. The rise of demand for food banks has suddenly and shockingly made it obvious that food plays a central role in social inequality. This is true at every stage in the supply chain. Much of the food we bought this winter was imported from Morocco and Spain where a poorly paid, often mistreated, migrant workforce toils to provide us with fresh fruit and vegetables all year round.

The best food processor you can buy

The Insider Pick:

* Food processors make short work of everything from vegetables and herbs to nuts and grains. They're also great for blending ingredients together for dressings and sauces.
* With a generous 14-cup working bowl, wide feed chute, beefy 720-watt motor, and stainless steel blades, the Cuisinart food processor is our top pick for serious home chefs who want the best food processor.

Of all the rooms in our homes, the kitchen has arguably been transformed the most by the advent of electricity, with electric appliances completely taking over virtually every food-related task from chilling and cooking our meals to making our morning coffee.

One of the unsung heroes of this electronic kitchen revolution is the humble food processor. While not as common as electric ranges and microwaves, a food processor is one of those appliances that will leave you wondering how you ever lived without one. If you regularly cook for multiple people, like to concoct your own sauces and dressings, or need to make healthy homemade baby food for a little one, then this often-overlooked tool can greatly simplify your meal prep.

Whether you're prepping basic meals for your family, cooking for one or two, or whipping up gourmet food for a large crowd, a good food processor can save you a lot of time. We've already done the research to help narrow down the best food processors you can buy from small apartment-friendly food processors to heavy-duty professional-grade units for serious cooks.

Here are the best food processors you can buy:

* Best overall: Cuisinart 14-cup food processor
* Best budget option: Hamilton Beach food processor
* Best hybrid food processor and blender: Ninja Master Prep Professional
* Best for small spaces: KitchenAid Mini food processor
* Best high-end option: Breville Sous Chef food processor

Read on in the slides below to check out our top picks.

Recipes for fried party snacks for new year and beyond

Room for one more party, yes? Just one more slice of cake and one more glass of wine? New Year's Eve marks the line between one year and the next, of course, but for many of us it also marks the cut-off point between indulgence and abstinence. What better way to tread this fine line, then, than to have friends over and serve them some snack food rather than one big feast. This sort of food often makes for my favourite kind of get-togethers, anyway: hanging out while eating various nibbles over the course of an evening, rather than the ready, steady, go of a big sit-down number.

One or two or all three of today's snacks will indulge your guests far more than any little party canape, but at the same time they are all just about abstinent enough not to weigh everyone down, which is the last thing any of us needs right now. That's why I'll be treading this very line tomorrow night, to see out the old year and bring in the new.

Panelle
If you're going to make only one snack to serve with the drinks tomorrow night, these are the perfect make-ahead choice. They are made with chickpea flour and cooked like polenta, and you can prepare and chill the mixture today or tomorrow morning, then cut it into slices so the panelle are ready to cook when your guests get hungry and you get frying. I was introduced to these little fritters, a tasty street food snack from Palermo in Sicily, by my friend Ivo Bisignano. Traditionally, they're served hot, straight out of the oil, in a soft white bread roll with just a squeeze of lemon by way of accompaniment, but I like to snack on them just as they are before a meal; they're also lovely dipped in decent mayonnaise or aïoli. To me, panelle are the epitome of indulgence, rather than abstinence, in the New Year's Eve equation. Makes about 30 fritters, to serve four to five generously.

225g chickpea (aka gram) flour
½ tsp rosemary leaves, finely chopped
Flaked sea salt and black pepper
750ml water
500ml sunflower oil
1 lemon, halved

Sift the flour into a bowl, then stir in the chopped rosemary, a teaspoon and a half of salt and plenty of freshly ground black pepper.

Pour the water into a medium saucepan and bring to a boil. Take the pan off the heat, then add the flour in three or four stages, whisking continuously with each addition to stop too many lumps forming (though there's no escaping the fact that some will). Return the pan to a low heat and cook the mix for five minutes, stirring frequently with a spatula, until it starts to come away from the sides of the pan, then turn off the heat.

Cut out two 35cm-wide x 80cm-long sheets of greaseproof paper, lay one out on a worktop, then spoon the panelle mixture on top and spread it out into a roughly 20cm x 30cm rectangle that's about 1cm thick (again, use a spatula). Lay the second sheet of paper on top, then roll out with a rolling pin until the batter is 0.5cm thick and about twice its original surface area (don't worry if it loses its shape a bit).

Set aside for half an hour to cool and set properly, then lift off the top layer of paper and cut the panelle batter into long, 4cm-wide strips. Cut each strip into 10cm-long pieces (so you end up with 4cm x 10cm rectangles). Don't worry about trimming the edges: any frayed bits will go nice and crisp when fried.

Put the oil in a large saute pan on a high flame. Once the oil is good and hot (about 200C), carefully drop in four or five slices of panelle and fry for five to six minutes, turning them once halfway through, until golden brown and crisp. Lift out with a slotted spoon and transfer to a wire rack lined with kitchen paper, to drain. Sprinkle with a pinch of salt and repeat with the remaining panelle mixture. Once all the panelle are fried, squeeze over some lemon juice and serve at once.

Chorizo, banana and prawn cakes with harissa yoghurt
These are what I'd sell if I ever jacked it all in and set up a street stall somewhere tropical. I'm probably not going to do that any time soon, but in the meantime, these will transport you there. Makes about 15 fritters, to serve four as a snack or first course.

3 cooking chorizo sausages, skin removed and discarded, meat finely chopped (150g net weight)
100g Greek-style yoghurt
1 tsp rose (or regular) harissa
2 ripe bananas (but not so ripe that they have brown bits), peeled and cut into 2cm pieces
80g sustainably caught ready-peeled raw king prawns, roughly chopped
1 green chilli, deseeded and finely chopped
1 small garlic clove, peeled and crushed
2cm piece ginger, peeled and finely grated (to end up with about ½ tsp)
2 limes – zest finely grated, to get 2 tsp, then cut into wedges
¼ tsp ground coriander
10g coriander leaves, finely chopped
2 tbsp plain flour
Salt
2 large egg whites
3 tbsp vegetable oil

Put a large nonstick saute pan on a high flame. Once hot, fry the chorizo for four minutes, stirring regularly, until nice and crisp, then tip into a large bowl (including any oil that leeches out) and leave to cool a little.

In a small bowl, fold the harissa into the yoghurt – don't mix them together so much that they turn into a uniform mass, but rather just swirl the harissa through the yoghurt, so it ends up with attractive red marbling. Cover with cling-film and refrigerate.

Add the bananas, prawns, chilli, garlic, ginger, lime zest, ground and fresh coriander, flour and a quarter-teaspoon of salt to the chorizo and stir to combine. Whip the egg whites to soft peaks, then gently fold into the fritter mixture, taking care not to knock out too much air.

Recipes for four new year treats inspired by Italy

New Year in Italy means lentils. In Rome, they say those who eat lentils and grapes at New Year conta quatrini tutto l'anno (count coins all year long). It is the magic of their form. Shaped (a bit) like coins, lentils are an augury of wealth and happiness: the more you eat, the better your fortune the following year. It is a tradition upheld in much of the country, although different regions have different ways of eating lentils and have different accompaniments – particularly good are the fat cotechino sausages of the north.

As a boy growing up in Sicily, my partner Vincenzo remembers the promise of fuochi e lenticchie a mezzanotte (fires and lentils at midnight), meaning that everyone went up on the roof and watched the fireworks that illuminated the Bay of Gela at midnight, then ate lentils or grapes. Some believe that you must eat the lentils while the clock is striking for them to be truly fortuitous, others that one chicco (grape) should be eaten with each of the 12 strokes, a challenge happily accepted by an eight-year-old boy with an elastic mouth.

It was in a room full of eight-year-olds where I first ate New Year lentils. I had foolishly gone to a party even though I wasn't well. Realising I wouldn't make it to midnight, I borrowed a hooded top that smelled of cigarette smoke and lay on a quiet sofa in a study, which turned out to be not so quiet when a dozen children arrived to watch a film. I couldn't move, so lay with one child on my legs, another hitting me with a light sabre, listening feverishly to Madagascar in Italian. At midnight, the kids rushed off to throw party poppers and themselves around the garden and I listened to voices and glasses in the other rooms feeling like a melancholy teenager. Eventually I went through, at which point someone gave me an effervescent pill fizzing in a wine glass and a brown splodge of lentils. Each seemed bizarre, but welcome, especially the lentils, which were soft, warm and floury, also dull in the way that lentils are, almost muddy, but in a good way – pure comfort.

It isn't just at New Year; Italians cook this most ancient legume all year round. Lentils are simmered for soups and stews, some of which are as beautifully spiced with cumin and coriander seeds as an Indian curry, braised as a side dish, often to go with pork and game. There are several prized varieties; the slate-coloured ones from Castelluccio in Umbria, roof-tile red ones from Santo Stefano in Abruzzo, and pale green-grey from a Sicilian island called Ustica, all of which are relatively expensive, but very good to eat. There are also lots of everyday lentils, the small green or brown ones being the best for today's recipe, I think.

It is true that many recipes we make often are not really recipes at all but ways of doing things. Over time, taste and habit shape them. I am nosy and like the domestic details and culinary gossip that comes free when you ask someone how they make something. Even though I have my way, I will happily listen to another way to make lentils. While buying a packet the other day, I met my friend's neighbour, an elderly lady who has spent her life cooking for many, who told me she simply cuts a stick of celery, onion and tomato into pieces the size of her fingernail, adds a handful of lentils per person, a bay leaf for flavour and good fortune, and enough water to come three fingers above the lentils, then simmers all this until the lentils taste as her late husband liked them. For others it is even simpler, lentils boiled with a whole carrot and a stick of celery until tender, then olive oil or butter is added at the table.

You might serve the lentils and cotechino sausages with the poached quince, in which case I suggest a tray of baked apples that requires nothing more than lots of cold cream and a hungry crowd, and a chocolate and chestnut cake that pleases almost everyone.

But recipes, lentils and grapes aside, whatever you cook or don't cook, however you choose to celebrate, auguri di buona fine e buon principio – best wishes for a happy ending and a good beginning.

Recipe for chicken liver and quince paté

The secret to a relaxed New Year's Eve, if you're doing the cooking, is the same one that applies to any laid-back dinner party: it's all about the planning. That may sound a bit dull, but even I, the original fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants cook, have to accept it's also true. If you can spend any time at weekends or midweek preparing food in advance, you'll always have treasures to pull out of the fridge or freezer when friends come round and you're short of time.

And no dish is greater proof of this than today's luxurious, silky chicken liver paté. I've taken pots of the stuff on half-term trips to the Isle of Wight, to parties up north and even on holiday to Mull. For something so simple, it's remarkably versatile and can act as both the most delicately sophisticated starter (paired with a chicory salad, say) and as a crowd-pleasing addition to a less formal lunch table. It also freezes well, which means you can make it way in advance; or just make double the amount and freeze half for another get-together at a later date.

Chicken liver and quince paté
Leave out the bacon, if you prefer, but otherwise follow the recipe slavishly. It will keep for up to 10 days, though it's unlikely to last that long. Serve with good bread and pickles or a crisp salad dressed with olive oil and sherry vinegar. Serves six to eight.

500g chicken livers
8 rashers streaky bacon
500g softened butter
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
8 shallots, peeled and finely chopped
3 garlic cloves, peeled and finely chopped
1 handful thyme sprigs, leaves stripped
2 fresh bay leaves
2 tbsp brandy
2 tbsp port
1 tbsp quince (or redcurrant) jelly

Cut off and discard any white membranes from the livers. Cut off and discard the bacon rind, and cut the meat into 3cm strips. Gently melt 75g butter in a small saucepan, then skim off any foam and pass through a fine sieve (lined with muslin, ideally) to get rid of all the solids: you now have clarified butter.

Season the livers generously. Put a large, heavy-based frying pan on a high flame until it is smoking hot. Add a small (ie, 10-15g) knob of butter, then sauté the livers in three batches for 40-50 seconds a side, until the outsides are caramelised and coloured, but the insides are still pink. Tip into a food processor, then repeat with the remaining livers, making sure you bring the pan back up to smoking-hot heat and adding a knob of butter between batches.

Once all the livers are cooked, melt another knob of butter in the same pan and fry the bacon strips until the fat has rendered out and the rashers are cooked. Tip the bacon into the food processor, too.

Add another knob of butter to the pan, then gently sauté the shallots on a medium heat for five minutes and season generously. Stir the garlic, thyme and bay leaves into the onions, and fry for a further five minutes, by which time the onions should be soft and translucent. Pour over the brandy, bring up to a simmer, stir to deglaze the pan, then tip the lot into the food processor.

Add the port, jelly and remaining softened butter to the food processor bowl, then blitz until you have a very smooth paté. Check for seasoning and adjust as necessary, then transfer to a bowl. Pour over the clarified butter, then put in the fridge for at least four hours to chill and set. Serve with toast (sourdough is my preference) and a green salad. Alternatively, put the cooled paté in a freezerproof container, cover and freeze: it will keep for months.

And for the rest of the week…
I like to use quince jelly in my paté, because that way I know I'll have some left over for the cheeseboard. I buy lots of streaky bacon at a time from the butcher, too: it keeps well in the fridge for pancakes and maple syrup – they're a must for Christmas holiday brunches round our house – and freezes very well, too. If you have any excess port, use some up in port and orange jellies: they're ethereally light and incredibly good. Finally, raw chicken livers also freeze well, so buy lots and freeze the extras for use in quick, healthy January salads with bitter leaves and a sharp dressing.

Roast lamb with anchovy butter recipe

The recipe
Season a 350g lamb neck fillet with salt and pepper. Heat 2 tbsp of olive oil in a shallow pan over a high heat, then lower in the lamb. Let the meat colour on the underside, then turn and brown the other sides.

Remove the pan from the heat, cover it with a lid and leave it to rest for 20 minutes. Bring a pan of water to the boil. Wash and trim 140g of rainbow chard. When the water is boiling, lower in the chard and cook briefly, for 2 or 3 minutes, then remove the leaves and plunge them into iced water.

In a small pan, melt 70g of butter. Chop 4 anchovy fillets finely, then add them to the butter. Chop 2 tbsp of lemon

thyme leaves, then add them to the butter. Warm the butter, then drain the chard and add it to the pan, turning the leaves over in the anchovy butter. Lift the leaves out on to 2 warm plates. Roll the lamb in any butter that remains in the pan then cut it into 8 thick slices. Serve with the chard, adding a little more salt and pepper should you wish. Enough to serve 2.

The trick
Browned and adequately rested, the lamb here will be rare and perfectly pink. Should you like it a little more well done, then leave it in the pan with the heat lowered a notch or two, for a further 5 minutes. The browning should be both thorough and even. I like mine a little charred here and there as a contrast to the pink interior.

The twist
Rosemary leaves, finely chopped, make a perfect seasoning for the lamb. Include them instead of, or as well as, the thyme. A little garlic, a single, juicy clove sliced as thin as paper, can be lightly cooked in the butter before adding the herbs.