There's something about the word canapé that puts many people off. So let's just call itsomething else – mezze, tapas, hors d'oeuvres, crostini, finger food, snacks, treats or nibbles – and pour aglass of wine.
Canapé means sofa in French, an analogy based on the thin, crisp toast that provides a base on which various toppings sit. As a description for something that's generally eaten standing up at parties, with everyone longingly eying up the empty sofa, it's a neat little irony.
A second irony is the time and effort that often goes into the making of a nibble that is presented to look effortless and welcoming. For all the fanfare that greets a roast bird as it approaches the festive table, it's actually the little sweet and savoury bites that command much of the cook's time and energy (and that makes them wonder why hosting Christmas seemed such a good idea at the time).
I'm all for pigs in blankets and devils on horsebacks, but if you are making an effort already – and isn't this the one time of year when we do have more time to play in the kitchen – why not extend your repertoire into something new? Italian ciabatta is indeed a great "sofa", but there are other exciting ways to provide support: bresaola wrapped around a celeriac and tarragon remoulade; vine leaves stuffed with short-grain rice and sweet spices; cherry tomatoes filled with gorgonzola and whipped ricotta; short, buttery pastry cases filled with anything from babaganoush and pomegranate to white chocolate ganache – these are the futons and chaises-longue of the canapé world.
A third irony is just how good something so small can be at satisfying the needs of the glutton. Unlike the food we pile on our plates at the main Christmas meal, no one keeps tabs on how many bite-size snacks are being snuck along the way. As long as you don't get busted double-dipping, you can keep going for as long as you want.
I don't really mind what we call canapés, but my answer to the ironies that surround them is threefold: forget etiquette and take a happy break on that empty sofa; enlist some helping hands to assist with the production line; and delight in the season's decadence before new year's resolutions come into play.
Fried garlic with sweet pepper sauce
Peeling garlic is a bit fiddly, and your hands will welcome a wash after doing this lot, but these can be prepared well in advance and fried when your guests arrive. Blanching the cloves removes the harsh and bitter bite of raw garlic. You can make the sauce a day or two ahead, too: keep it in the fridge, and bring back to room temperature before serving. Serves 12 as a canapé.
1 medium red pepper
1 red chilli
3 tbsp cider vinegar
60ml olive oil
3 tsp caster sugar
Salt
6 whole heads of garlic, cloves separated and peeled
2½ tbsp balsamic vinegar
1 tsp thyme leaves, finely chopped
1 tsp rosemary leaves, finely chopped
80g semolina
About 300ml sunflower oil, forfrying
Heat the oven to 220C/425F/gas mark 7. Put the pepper on a small baking tray and roast for 30 minutes, until the skin has blackened; add thechilli to the tray for the final 10 minutes. Transfer the pepper and chilli to a bowl, cover with clingfilm and leave to cool. Peel off and discard the skins and seeds, and put the flesh in the small bowl of a food processor, together with half a tablespoon of the cider vinegar, two tablespoons of olive oil, half a teaspoon of caster sugar and a quarter-teaspoon of salt. Blitz smooth, then set aside.
Half fill a medium saucepan with water and bring to a boil. Add the garlic, blanch for six minutes, drain and set aside to cool a little.
Put the two remaining tablespoons of oil in a large, nonstick frying pan and put on a high heat. Add the garlic and fry for about five minutes, stirring once or twice, until golden-brown all over. Lower the heat to medium, add the remaining cider vinegar, the balsamic vinegar, 200ml of water and half a teaspoon of salt. Simmer gently for 10 minutes, then add the sugar and herbs. Cook for 10 minutes, until the liquid has evaporated and the garlic is coated in dark caramel syrup, then tip the cloves on to a tray, sprinkle with the semolina, toss to coat and set aside.
Pour enough sunflower oil into a small frying pan so that it comes 2cm up the sides. Put on a medium-high heat and, when small bubbles start rising to the surface, carefully spoon in a few garlic cloves. Fry for just five to 10 seconds, until brown, then remove with a slotted spoon and transfer to a plate lined with kitchen paper. Repeat in batches. Serve warm, with plenty of co*cktail sticks, so they can be dipped in the sauce.
Coated olives with spicy yoghurt
I nicked this recipe from the fantastic cookbook of the even more fantastic restaurant, Balaboosta, in SoHo, New York; its chef, Einat Admoni, is the local face of the increasingly popular Israeli food scene. Serves four as a nibble.
1 green chilli, roughly chopped (with seeds)
¼ tsp ground cardamom
⅛ tsp ground clove
¾ tsp sugar
20g coriander leaves, roughly chopped
20g parsley leaves, roughly chopped
45g preserved lemon (skin and flesh), roughly chopped
3 tbsp olive oil
300g plain yoghurt
80g panko breadcrumbs, blitzed very fine
50g plain flour
3 eggs, beaten
20-25 large pitted Cerignola green olives (queen and other large green olives are fine as substitutes)
Sunflower oil, for frying
Put the chilli, spices, sugar, coriander, parsley, preserved lemon and olive oil in a small blender and blitz to a rough paste. Pour into a small bowl and set aside.
Spoon the yoghurt into a J-cloth and squeeze out some of the liquid. Tip the yoghurt into a small bowl and set aside.
Put the panko, flour and eggs in three separate small bowls. Drain theolives and pat dry with kitchen paper. Take one olive and dip it firstin the flour, then the egg, then the panko, then the egg again and finally back into the panko. Put the coated olive ona plate, and repeat with the remaining olives.
Pour the sunflower oil into a small saucepan so it comes 3cm up the sides and put on a medium-high heat. Once the oil is hot, add a few coated olives. They should take a minute to go golden brown, and need to be turned while cooking (if they brown too quickly, turn down the heat). With a slotted spoon, lift the cooked olives from the oil and place on awire rack lined with kitchen paper. Repeat with the remaining olives.
Spoon the drained yoghurt into ashallow bowl and swirl the green paste into it (don't amalgamate them completely; it looks much better with some marbling). Pile the olives, warm or at room temperature, into the centre and serve.
