Some delicious seasonal summer family recipes to choose from the What Dad Cooked repertoire.
‘Japanese food is pretty up market at the moment, but this succulent dish, believe it or not, uses cheap cuts of meat…’
‘Summers here a what better time for the French classic Salad Niçoise!’
‘This time Dad made crepes with Joe & Seph’s Sticky Toffee Sauce, apples and warmed in the oven…’
These are outrageously delicious. Serve warm as an hors d’oeuvre.
Check out Dad's latest homecooked dishes and recipes below. Or click recipes in the menu to browse through 6+ years of Dad's homecooking recipes for families.
A perfect winter warmer – Cassoulet!
Try Dad’s loaded low-fat salsa quesadillas with The Laughing Cow Lightest x8 cheese.
An excellent way to turn a popular Italian slow food standard into an easy and quicker family classic.
My best pumpkin pie yet!
A seasonal favourite ingredient of Dad's, so much so he made a 30 recipe series about the green spears! Try these recipes whilst asparagus can still be found locally.
Most asparagus bruschetta recipes use goats cheese. I tried this and it’s okay but unremarkable, so I made a artichoke and cannellini bean puree to replace the cheese – it’s much better.
This is a spring asparagus dish – but not as we know it…
A great flavour combination and presented here as a main meal salad or antipasto.
‘Risotto is my favourite dish, ever.’
Dad loves to write about food. Whether it's discovering a new road local to London or Surrey, where the treasures of foodie stores and independent shops delight—or Dad's macro observations in the world of food. Dad's articles (and foodie stories to his recipes) are a funny and knowledgable journey through the lense of how pops views the world.
What a great night out! WDC was invited by Time Out to attend a preview for the KERB in Camden Market – they promised a night of free food from 35 affiliated street traders.
Tucked beside the tracks of Waterloo is one of the capital’s most interesting little places. Lower Marsh is full of unassuming gems worth checking out.
How can we say we’re ‘worth our salt’ unless we’ve submitted to the mysteries and heartaches of the confit and lived to tell the tale?