The cook time for a traditional Caribbean pepperpot is usually several hours. “People ask me if there’s a short cut,” says Andi Oliver, “and I say, just make something else!” She reclines on the sofa at home in Snaresbrook, east London, in a pink kaftan and fluffy slippers. There’s not much culinary paraphernalia on display in her kitchen but her house is full of people, and The Real Housewives of Potomac is paused on the telly. “There is something beautiful about a pot that you spent that much time on,” she says, wistfully: salt beef, pigs’ tails, ham hock and stout, smoked in cinnamon and allspice, and thrown into a cauldron for hours on end.
“First, never shop on the same day as a big cook. This is very important. If you come back and unpack and start cooking at 3pm, of course you’ll be pissed off, of course you’ll hate cooking. If you’re doing the cook on Saturday, do the shopping on Thursday. Then put it away on Friday.” She hoots with laughter.
And what is Oliver doing while her pot simmers away? “I’m having a little wander around the kitchen. I’m thinking about doing my onions. I might even have an audiobook on. Cooking is a meditative, soul-soothing, gorgeous thing. When people say it stresses them out, I think, oh dear, what’s gone wrong?”
The great thing about becoming famous in your 50s, she says, is that it doesn’t drive you mad: you can enjoy the work, but you see it for what it is: “If this had happened to me when I was younger, I’d be dead by now.” Oliver may be the biggest thing on food TV these days, presenting Great British Menu for a third series – she’s fast-talking, deeply knowledgeable, engaged, at ease and earthy, with a refreshing inquisitiveness. She asks so many questions, puzzling over ways to stop the mayonnaise separating in a cheese toastie, on the Channel 4 show Food Unwrapped.
On the inside covers of her first cookbook, The Pepperpot Diaries, is a tapestry of photos of her sprawling extended family. She traces them with a finger. Here is her daughter Miquita, the TV presenter, with whom she’s made several shows; her Antiguan mother, now in her mid-80s, who lives upstairs, pictured with her father over the years: “Can you see she’s looking progressively more pissed off in each photo?” There are friends as close as family: the singer Neneh Cherry, with whom Oliver fronted the post-punk band Rip Rig + Panic. And what’s this? A photo of the Kanneh-Mason clan, the piano- and string-playing musical prodigies? “They’re my cousins!” The book is her origin story as well as a guide to a vibrant but under-represented cuisine: Caribbean cooking is the cooking of 700 islands, with India, China, France, Spain and Portugal all finding their way into the food.
The Pepperpot Diaries came about when Oliver was stranded in Antigua for three months during the pandemic (“How awful!”). Each morning, she’d buy provisions from the roadside sellers and pick up her meat from a lady in a car park, then cook all afternoon. Caribbean food hasn’t been codified in quite the same way as French and Italian: “There’s eight ways you can make rice and peas.” For the heritage recipes she’d tap up the elders, who were not forthcoming: “People take their stuff to the grave with them. Cooking is their superpower. My mother-in-law’s corn fritters are in there, but we had to spy on her.”
With her dad in the RAF, Oliver was a forces child, born in London and thrown into life in Kent, Cyprus and back to “1970s National-Front East Anglia”. It was her experience of racism that forged her independence: one primary school teacher would talk of “you people”. “Racism made me resilient,” she says. “It taught me to be empathic. There is no upside to it, but I gained a sense of my own humanity.”
For a while she went by her middle name, Denise, because it felt more like a white girl’s. “I felt like I was waiting for my life to start,” she says. “I knew it was going to happen, and I knew I just had to wait it out.”
Life began in London, joining a band with her brother Sean and Cherry. “Punk gave us an engine,” she says, “and it taught us to be self-fulfilling. Punk taught you to not wait. It gave me the most beautiful gift at the right time: I’ve found quantifiable, external success later in life, but I’ve always done exactly what I wanted to do.”
Miquita was born when Oliver was 20 and a large alternative family emerged from her Ladbroke Grove set, which included actors, musicians, and creatives. Cooking was always about finding stability, creating home. Her first paid cheffing job was at a speakeasy in Ladbroke Grove where she cooked till 5am, making bananas fried in butter, flambéed with rum and whipped vanilla cream: “Can you imagine getting that when you’re stoned?” But food also came to embody her dark side.
When her brother died aged 27 from sickle cell anaemia, Oliver developed a compulsive eating disorder. “I got really, really sick – serious binge-eating. I was in a fractured state for several years. Food became a scary thing, and it kind of broke my heart – this thing that had been beauty and artistry and love.” She got help when a doctor took her on at a private clinic for free: unlike with other addictions, she points out, you can’t just go cold turkey. “Alcohol or drugs, you stop doing the thing. With food you still have to eat. It’s like having an alcoholic taking three sips of whisky, three times a day.”
Her career took shape only after she mended her relationship with food: “It was like meeting an old friend, meeting myself again,” she says. There’s a new podcast with Miquita coming up – virtual dinner parties – and another major TV project in the summer. And she’s confident we’ll see more Caribbean flavours in cooking, such as tamarind, already the secret ingredient of HP sauce. “And blackstrap molasses. It adds depth and richness to a dish, a stew or a sauce or a glaze.”
Then there’s her favourite breakfast, salt fish buljol: “Loads of lime squeezed over the top, with grated peppers and onions, and loads of fresh herbs with a sticky boiled egg. Delicious. All this avocado on toast, I can’t be doing with it. I don’t want a whole fucking avocado, it’s too much!”
Curry chicken
I love a second-day pot of curry, and this recipe is no exception – if you make a big enough pot it will see you through a couple of dinners in the middle of the week. This is also one of those many moments when you’ll be glad you took my advice to keep a big jar of green seasoning in the fridge.
Serves 6-8
chicken thighs and/or legs 8, skin on and bone in
green seasoning 3 tbsp (see recipe below)
salt 1 tsp
garlic 3 cloves, finely grated
scotch bonnet 1, finely chopped, or a chilli of your choice
ghee or rapeseed oil 2 tbsp
onion 1 large, diced
Caribbean curry powder 3 tbsp
chicken stock 375ml
coriander 2 tbsp, chopped
Place the chicken in a large bowl and add the green seasoning, salt, and roughly half of the garlic and chilli. Mix with your hands so it is well coated. Set aside in the fridge to marinate, ideally overnight or for a minimum of 30 minutes.
When you are ready to cook, set a large saucepan over a medium-high heat and add the ghee or oil. Sear the marinated chicken pieces until nicely browned on all sides, then remove them from the pan to a plate and set aside.
Lower the heat to medium-low, then add the onion and remaining garlic and chilli. Lightly sauté for 5 minutes until slightly softened. Add the curry powder and a splash of water – enough to form a paste. Gently cook for 2 minutes, being careful not to burn the spices.
Add the browned chicken back to the pan and stir well, making sure it is completely coated in the curry paste. Increase the heat to medium-high, add the stock, cover the pan and simmer for about 1 hour until the chicken is cooked through and tender.
Serve immediately, garnished with the coriander, alongside the rice or bread of your choice.
Green seasoning
A glorious concoction of herbs and a little heat and garlic, which turns the most pedestrian pot or piece of protein into the best version of itself. Make a batch, get it in a jar and whack it in the fridge. It’s worth it. Green seasoning is found all over the Caribbean and is more than just a short cut to flavour, it’s the heart and soul of Caribbean seasoning.
Makes about 500ml
thyme 2 sprigs
fresh bay leaves 10g
flat-leaf parsley 1 small bunch
coriander 1 small bunch
spring onions 4
garlic 10 cloves, peeled
green chilli 1, or scotch bonnet, depending on how much heat you like
Caribbean seasoning peppers 6 small, or a mix of red, yellow, and/or green mini sweet peppers
white onion ½
cold-pressed rapeseed oil 400ml, or any neutral oil
salt and freshly ground black pepper
Add all the ingredients to a food processor and season to taste with salt and pepper. Whizz to the consistency of a salsa verde and keep in an airtight jar in the fridge for up to 2-3 weeks.
Luscious mac and cheese
What can I say? It’s mac and cheese turned all the way up to 11. Gooey, rich, garlicky goodness.
Serves 4-6
macaroni 500g
comte 300g
gruyere 250g
cheddar 350g, strong
evaporated milk 1 x 410ml tin
full-fat milk 300ml
double cream 300ml
unsalted butter 150g
plain flour 100g
hot English mustard 1 big tsp, or mustard of your choice
For the topping
unsalted butter 2 tbsp
rapeseed oil 4 tbsp
garlic 6 cloves, grated
fine white breadcrumbs 100g, or panko if you prefer a crispier finish
Preheat the oven to 180C fan/gas mark 6. Cook the macaroni in a deep pan of vigorously boiling salted water until tender but still with a little bite left to it; it’ll take around 10 minutes. Drain immediately and leave to one side. While this is happening, grate all the cheeses, mix them together and set aside.
Combine both the milks and the cream in a jug or cup and keep to one side of the hob. Gently melt the butter in a deep saucepan over a low heat. Add the flour and beat it into the butter with a wooden spoon. When the flour and butter are fully combined, keep stirring for around 4 minutes, then gradually add the milk and cream mixture, bit by bit, beating it in each time to keep the sauce smooth. Next, beat in just over half of the cheese mixture and all the mustard. Set aside off the heat.
To make the topping, melt the butter and oil together in a wide frying pan. Add the garlic and very gently soften over a low heat for around 4 minutes. Add the breadcrumbs and stir them through the oil. Toast for few minutes, then remove from the heat.
Combine the cooked macaroni with the cheese sauce in an ovenproof dish. Top with the remaining grated cheese and toasted breadcrumbs. Bake in the preheated oven for 15 minutes, until lovely and golden on top. Serve.
Doubles
I was introduced to doubles by my dear Trinidadian friend, Lesley Anne Saunders, and it was love at first bite. Puffy bara flatbread with the rich, curry-seasoned chana, zingy cucumber relish and a final punch of tamarind chutney and glorious hot sauce.It’s truly one of the most stunning street food inventions I have ever come across.
Makes 6–8
For the bara flatbread
split pea or chickpea flour 150g
plain flour 100g, plus a little extra if needed
baking powder 3 tsp
salt 1 tsp
ground cumin 1 tsp
curry powder 1 tsp
garlic 2 cloves, finely grated
freshly cracked black pepper 1 tsp
scotch bonnet or hot chilli of your choice 1, very finely chopped
lukewarm water 100ml
neutral oil, such as rapeseed or sunflower oil 250ml, for deep frying, plus extra for greasing
For the topping
quick chana dal (see recipe below)
cucumber relish (see recipe below)
tamarind chutney (see recipe below)
hot sauce of your choice
To make the bara dough, combine the split pea or chickpea flour, plain flour, baking powder, salt, cumin, curry powder, garlic, black pepper, and chilli in a large mixing bowl.
Next, we want to bring the mixture together to form a soft, slightly sticky dough. Addthe lukewarm water a little splash at a time, mixing until this sticky, soft texture is achieved. If you are worried the dough is too wet to work with, dust with a little extra flour to bring it back to the perfect consistency.
Splash a little oil into the palm of your hands and rub it all over the dough in the bowl. Cover the bowl with a damp kitchen towel and leave the dough to rest at room temperature for 2-3 hours – 3 hours is preferable if you have time.
When you return to the dough, punch it down gently with your hand, then leave for a further 10-15 minutes to rest.
Now lightly oil your hands again and divide the dough into 6-8 equal portions. Lightly oil a work surface and flatten each portion out into a rough circle with the palm of your hand.
Heat the oil in a high-sided heavy-based frying pan or wok to 180C. To test whether the oil is hot enough, drop in a cube of white bread. If it bubbles straight away and goes golden, then the oil is ready for frying. Fry each piece of dough for just under a minute – be careful not to overcrowd the pan and fry just 1 or 2 at a time. The bara will puff up and become a gorgeous, light golden brown colour when ready.
Remove from the oil with a slotted spoon and place on a plate lined with kitchen paper to drain any excess oil. When you have a pile of cooked breads, tumble the chana dal on top and serve topped with tamarind chutney, hot sauce, and a cucumber relish… divine.
Quick chana dal
This dish has a direct link to its southern Indian origins. It’s a robust curry, redolent with cumin and smoky spices. This version is simple, quick and versatile.
Serves 6-8
onion 1, chopped
garlic 4 cloves, peeled
chilli 1 long red
ground cumin 1 tsp
ground coriander 1 tsp
ground turmeric 1 tsp
Caribbean curry powder 2 tsp
neutral oil such as rapeseed or sunflower 4 tbsp
salt big pinch
whole cumin seeds 1 tsp
green cardamom pods 1 tsp
split mustard seeds 1 tsp (optional)
chickpeas 2 x 400g tins, drained
vegetable or chicken stock 300ml
coconut milk 200ml
green seasoning 2 tbsp (see recipe above)
In a food processor, blitz together the onion, garlic, chilli, ground cumin, coriander, turmeric and curry powder, and 2 tablespoons of the oil to a rough paste.
Heat the remaining 2 tablespoons of oil in a large pan over a medium heat. Add the curry paste and salt and sauté gently for about 5 minutes, giving it a light stir occasionally.
Now add the cumin seeds, cardamom pods and mustard seeds (if using). Stir the mixture while cooking for another 3 minutes. Add the chickpeas and give everything a good stir until thoroughly combined. Add the stock, green seasoning and coconut milk, and simmer gently over a low heat for 20-25 minutes, until the sauce is thickened and delicious. Serve.
Cucumber relish
Serves 6–8
white wine vinegar 200ml
white sugar 4 heaped tbsp
cumin seeds ½ tsp
whole white peppercorns 1 tsp
bay leaf 1, roughly torn
spring onions 70g, roughly chopped
coriander stalks 6, roughly chopped
cucumber 315g, finely diced
salt a pinch
Add the vinegar, sugar, cumin seeds, peppercorns, bay leaf, and 3 1/2 tablespoons of water to a medium saucepan. Warm through over a low heat until the sugar has dissolved, stirring occasionally. Set aside to cool.
Once the liquid is cool, add the spring onions, coriander stalks, and most of the diced cucumber, reserving about 2 tablespoon.
Give the mixture a stir to combine, then pour into a blender and blitz briefly to a rough consistency. Transfer to a bowl and stir through the reserved diced cucumber. Add a pinch of salt and serve as you like.
Tamarind chutney
I so love the unique sour nature of tamarind. It’s almost like a connector between sweet, salty, and savoury – somehow it seems to sing to all of those sensations. A spoonful of tamarind chutney will bring any dish to life.
Makes 60ml
tamarind paste 4 tbsp
sugar 2 tbsp (demerara or dark soft brown sugar work best)
coriander seeds 2 tsp
ground allspice 2 tsp
green seasoning 2 tbsp (see recipe above)
Put all the ingredients into a small saucepan with 80ml of water. Set over a medium-low heat and warm through, stirring now and again, until everything is melted and combined.
Leave to cool, then transfer to a sealed jar or container and store in the fridge to use as needed. The chutney should keep well for 3-4 weeks.
Rum and raisin bakewell tarts
This dish really came into being because mMy father-in-law, Lloyd, keeps asking me for rum and raisin everything, so this is for Lloyd. The gorgeous short pastry is from the mind of she who rules all baking, my niece, Phoebe Oliver. Came out right nice.
You will need 10 fluted tart tins, about 9cm in diameter.
Serves 10
For the purée
raisins 300g
rum 150ml, dark or golden
For the pastry
unsalted butter 125g
plain flour 210g, plus extra for dusting (optional)
caster sugar 75g
ground almonds 25g
salt a pinch
eggs 2
For the frangipane
unsalted butter 250g
caster sugar 250g
eggs 2, beaten
ground almonds 250g
almond extract a few drops
plain flour 75g
flaked almonds 3½ tbsp
To make the purée, soak the raisins in the rum for at least an hour. Blend to a purée in a food processor, then scrape into a bowl and set aside. Wash and dry the food processor for the next step.
For the sweet pastry, place the butter, flour, sugar, ground almonds and salt in a food processor. Pulse until the mixture looks a bit like breadcrumbs. Tip in the eggs, one by one, pulsing with each addition until the dough has just formed.
Form the dough into a ball with your hands, wrap it in clingfilm and chill in the fridge for 2 hours. Preheat the oven to 170C/gas mark 5.
Remove the pastry from the fridge, unwrap and place on a lightly floured work surface or between 2 pieces of baking parchment. Roll out the dough to the thickness of a 50p coin.
Using a 12cm cookie cutter or a bowl of the same size, cut out 10 circles of pastry. Carefully line each of the fluted tart tins with a piece of pastry, making sure it fits snugly into the corners. Pop a piece of baking parchment over each piece of pastry and fill each case with baking beans. Blind bake the tart cases in the preheated oven for 25 minutes.
Remove from the oven, remove the beans and paper and let cool slightly. Leave the oven on at the same temperature. Meanwhile, make the frangipane by beating the butter and sugar until pale and fluffy either in a stand mixer with the paddle attachment, or using an electric hand whisk. Beat in the eggs one by one. Add the almond essence, then beat in the ground almonds. Finally, fold in the flour.
Spread a thin layer of the raisin purée into the bottom of each of the tart cases. Divide the frangipane between the tart cases, being careful not to overfill. Top each tart with a few flaked almonds and bake in the preheated oven for 25-30 minutes until golden. Leave the tarts to cool before removing from the cases. Serve with softly whipped cream, if you like.
Coconut and lime cheesecake
The first sweet things I ever made were cheesecakes. This iteration brings together the creaminess of white chocolate with toasty coconut and vibrant lime to sublime effect. Not too sweet, just right.
You will need a 22-24cm fluted tart tin, base lined with baking parchment.
Serves 12
For the base
gingernut biscuits 100g
oat biscuits, such as Hobnobs 100g
desiccated coconut 50g, toasted
unsalted butter 120g, melted
salt a pinch
For the filling
full-fat cream cheese 280g
coconut condensed milk 4 tbsp
coconut milk 200ml
double cream 150ml
limes grated zest and juice of 2
white chocolate 100g, melted
For the topping
fresh coconut 1
maple syrup 1 tbsp
lime grated zest of 1
fresh mango 1, peeled, cored and diced
Put all the biscuits in a sealable food bag and bash them up to fine crumbs using a rolling pin or similar. Tip the crumbs into a bowl and mix with the toasted coconut, melted butter, and salt. Press into the bottom and sides of the tart tin and chill in the fridge for 1 hour or until set.
Combine all the filling ingredients, apart from the chocolate, in a large mixing bowl. Beat together using an electric hand whisk until smooth and slightly thickened. Mix through the melted white chocolate. Spoon the filling on top of the set base and chill for a couple of hours in the fridge until set (do note that this cheesecake has quite a soft-set finish).
Meanwhile, preheat the oven to 180C/gas mark 6.
Crack open the fresh coconut and peel off flakes of the flesh using a vegetable peeler. You want about 2 handfuls in total. Toss the flakes in the maple syrup and half of the lime zest on a baking tray, then toast in the preheated oven for around 10 minutes until crisp. Leave to cool, then top the cheesecake with the toasted coconut.
Mix together the diced mango and remaining lime zest and serve a little spoon of this alongside slices of cheesecake, or pile it on top of the cheesecake as well.
The Pepperpot Diaries: Stories From My Caribbean Table by Andi Oliver is published on 27 April (Dorling Kindersley, £27). To order a copy for £23.76 go to guardianbookshop.com. Delivery charges may apply.
Andi Oliver appears at the Southbank Centre on 27 April
