By Philip Brocklehurst of Yellowwedge Cheese

This was one of those times when the dish in question became the happier accidental cousin of the meal before. The pheasant was cooked as a tribute to the unforgettable River Cafe's Rose Gray when she died in 2010. But pleasant as the original dish was, I don't have wood fired oven in my kitchen, and I don't have Rose's magic in my finger tips. So having served the breasts according to the original recipe, I made this using the leg meat and carcass pickings from a large bird [a small whole bird will easily yield enough meat for two people]. I'm giving no precise measurements here other than to say that you should use 1 large egg for each 100g type 00 flour for your pasta dough. Beyond that it's a case of let go and follow your instincts, they're invariably right, as I'm sure Rose would agree...

Take the meat from the cooked bird and chop finely - the flavour of pheasant is potent and a little goes a long way. Use the carcass to make a stock with some onion, carrot and celery, a bouquet garni of thyme, parsley, bay and marjoram, and few crushed juniper berries. Soak a handful of raisins in a large wine glass of ruby port. Mash a squashy ball of Mozzarella with a fork and add the chopped meat and the raisins. Reduce the stock to a few tablespoons, throw in the port from the raisins and reduce again. Whilst the reduction reduces roll your pasta dough out to the thinnest setting on your machine, and make your ravioli using a
rounded teaspoon of the filling in each. Add enough cream or crème fraiche to your reduced sauce to quadruple its volume along with a teaspoon of good grain mustard and adjust the seasoning. The ravioli are cooked when the water returns to the boil and they float to the surface. Transfer them to warmed plates and drizzle sparingly with olive oil, then liberally with the sauce.

By Philip Brocklehurst of Yellowwedge Cheese

In the latest edition of My St Margarets Magazine I wrote about remembering your summer holidays through food, and as Autumn's tendrils start to twine through the thinning rays of October sunshine you may be tempted to do the same. You can read the full piece 'Look back in hunger' [and indeed the whole magazine] here but the viewer does require Flash, so for my iPad using readers I've reproduced the goat's cheese tart recipe below...

Nothing says French holiday quite like a 'Tarte au Chevres'. Returning holiday makers however please take note - not even an award-winning local cheese shop is likely to be able to source "the wonderful little goats cheese made by the old man with a stall every other Thursday in such and such village in the Loire", as his cheese probably never makes it as far as the next village on, let alone out of the country! This is your opportunity to recreate a happy facsimile with something more local. Last time I used Pant-Ys-Gawn, next I intend to use Dorstone.

For one large [20cm] or four individual [8cm tarts] shallow tart cases

NB - this is easiest with ready baked tart cases. If making your own blind bake first.

• 6 small tomatoes, quartered
• Half a red onion, thinly sliced and sautéed
• 2 eggs, beaten
• 1 tablespoon crème fraiche
• 2 teaspoons Dijon mustard
• 1 tablespoon picked fresh thyme leaves OR
• 1 teaspoon dried herbes de Provence
• 1 Pant-Ys-Gawn goats cheese, or equivalent quantity of your chosen cheese

Paint the inside of the of the pastry case[s] with the mustard. Arrange the tomato quarters neatly in the bottom, strew over the sautéed onions and season well. Mix the beaten eggs, herbs and crème fraiche and pour around the tomatoes - they should just break the surface. Crumble the goats cheese over the top [or for individual tarts try slicing into four neat discs and place one in the centre of each], and season again with plenty of black pepper and any stray morsels of herb. Bake in a 220°C oven for 20 minutes. The top should be golden with brown tinged edges and corners here and there. Allow to cool and eat at room temperature. A simply dressed salad of fennel, olives and chicory eats well with it.

By Philip Brocklehurst of Yellowwedge Cheese

Who'd have thought we'd be wanting salad recipes in October? I'd planned to pack this away with the barbecue and pull them both out next summer, but the weather says otherwise...

It all began with the cucumber pickle. Susie's cucumber pickle, which had recently arrived at the shop and which was so good that a meal had to be created around it. It would make a great accompaniment to burgers or other barbecued meats, but I plumped that day for poached salmon. And I love potato salad with poached salmon but wanted something with a bit more poke to stand up to that pickle. Coronation potato salad was the answer.

If you've ever made Chicken Elizabeth, the correct name of the dish devised for the coronation of Elizabeth II by the Cordon Bleu cookery school, you'll know that it's not bright turmeric yellow as we usually see now, but a purpley burgundy colour thanks to the reduction of red wine and apricot jam which is added to the mayonnaise. But having changed the principal ingredient from chicken to potato I'm sure you won't mind if I take a few liberties with the rest!

These quantities are a rough guide which you can adjust to vary the levels of spice, sweet and sharp. For around 250g of baby new potatoes I used:

• 2 tbsps mayonnaise
• 2 tbsps natural yoghurt [for a vegan version use all yoghurt]
• 1 tbsp Sharwood's green label mango chutney
• Half a tsp of ground turmeric
• 1 to 2 tsps curry powder
• Half to 1 tsp chilli powder
• Half a tsp of ground coriander
• A few finely sliced spring onions
• Juice of half a lemon
• Some chopped coriander or flat leaved parsley to garnish

Mix everything except the chopped herbs together, taste, season and adjust. You might want to add the curry and chilli powders in half teaspoon increments as you can always add more, whilst removal is more problematic. Add the cooked and cooled potatoes and stir to combine, adding the chopped greenery at the end.

Normal autumn service [casseroles and the likes] will undoubtedly be resumed shortly.

By Philip Brocklehurst of Yellowwedge Cheese

Not my worst disaster, not my finest hour...

After four years of selling cheese, frankly it felt like high time I tried my hand at making some. I had been warned, by no less an authority than writer, columnist, restaurateur, TV chef, fish fight champion, and all round food hero Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall that "making mozzarella is more difficult than today's other cheeses". Pah! What does he know? I've read the recipe, and I once saw a short video of skilled Campania artisans with decades of know how making the stuff. So what that I've never made so much as a simple strained curd before - how hard can it be...?

The vegetarian rennet had been sitting in the cupboard for a while, glaring at me with the resentment born of neglect every time I reached for the sea salt, and the award-winning Laverstoke Park have just opened a butchers in Twickenham which means ready access to buffalo milk. The only thing missing was citric acid, which my dad always had hanging around at home for his wine making, so I guessed it couldn't be that hard to come by.