 Kangaroo is lean, rich, and full of flavour, and when it is cooked quickly and rested well, it stays beautifully tender. This sizzle steak is bold, gamey, and full of character, paired with buttery garlic mushrooms and vibrant broccolini for a proper steakhouse-style plate with an Aussie edge. Perfect for Australia Day, summer barbecues, or any night you fancy something a little different from the usual steak. Serves: 2 Prep time: 10 minutes Cook time: 10 minutes Total time: 20 minutes
To ServePlate the sliced kangaroo with the garlic mushrooms and broccolini.
Drizzle with the resting juices and finish with cracked black pepper or a small knob of butter if you want it extra indulgent. Optional Sauce Ideas • Peppercorn sauce • Red wine jus • Garlic butter • Smoky BBQ glaze • Bush tomato chutney for a distinctly Australian touch
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If you cook regularly, the hardest part isn’t the cooking. It’s the deciding.
That question tends to creep in around lunchtime. What are we doing for dinner. By mid-afternoon it can feel oddly heavy, even if you actually enjoy being in the kitchen. I don’t mind cooking. I do mind the constant decision-making, the half-plans, and the feeling that every day starts from scratch. Over time, that’s what wears you down. What’s helped me most is planning meals that carry over. This week, for example, I’m making a curry. (Watch out for my Friday Live video) One proper cook, then dinner is sorted, with leftovers that genuinely work the next day. Sometimes it becomes lunch. Sometimes it’s a second night with rice or flatbreads. Same base, different meals, no extra thinking. I always try to include one or two meals like this each week. Not because I want to eat the same thing endlessly, but because it frees up headspace. Once one dinner is properly accounted for, the rest of the week feels lighter. Planning doesn’t have to mean rigid meal plans or complicated prep. It can be as simple as choosing food that does more than one job. That’s the thinking behind this curry. It’s comforting, flexible, and made to be cooked once and used well. Want the recipe? I’ve put the full curry recipe into a simple, printable download, with clear quantities and method, ideas for using the leftovers, and a ready-to-go shopping list. You can download it below and keep it for when the dinner question starts circling. Download the curry recipe here This way of planning is what my digital book is built around. It brings the planning, the recipes, and the shopping lists together so you can organise a week, or even a month, without the daily scramble. You can also download that HERE If dinner decisions drain your energy before the day is even over, this approach might help more than you expect. Start your teatime planning now. January always has a funny hush to it, the days still long and bright, but the rhythm quietly slipping back into place. Lunch boxes come out of cupboards, shoes wait by the door again, and suddenly everyone needs feeding on a timetable. This is the moment when sandwiches matter. Not the thin, apologetic sort, but the proper ones. The kind you look forward to opening. The sort that make a work break feel like a pause rather than a scramble. In Britain, the sandwich is a small piece of daily comfort. A cheese and pickle wrapped in paper. A ham sandwich with sharp mustard. Egg mayo tucked into soft bread and eaten on a park bench. They are ordinary, but they hold a lot of quiet joy. These days, school lunches have their own set of rules. No nuts, no this, sometimes no that. Parents do their best, but it can take the warmth out of something that used to feel simple. Even so, a good sandwich still finds a way through. Soft bread, proper filling, something sharp or creamy to make it feel like a treat rather than a task. At home, the same flavours can grow up a little. You stand there in the morning, trying to strike that soft balance between what they like, what they are allowed, and what you hope might actually be eaten. You pack it with care, a sandwich cut just so, fruit washed, a little something tucked in to make it feel kind. Then it comes back untouched, warm from the day, and you wonder why you bothered. While the kids head off with their lunch boxes, the adults reach for a salad bowl. Not a sad one, but something piled high with leaves, roasted vegetables, leftover chicken or ham, and a good dressing. It is the same idea as a sandwich, just loosened up, all the good bits in one big bowl. Here is one I make often, simple enough for lunch boxes, generous enough for the table. Coronation Chicken Serves 4 Time 20 minutes Ingredients 500 g cooked chicken, torn or chopped 80 g mayonnaise 80 g thick Greek yoghurt 1 tbspn mild curry powder 1 tbspn mango chutney 1 tspn lemon juice 40 g sultanas 2 tbspn flaked almonds, lightly toasted Salt and black pepper Method Put the mayonnaise, yoghurt, curry powder, mango chutney and lemon juice into a bowl and stir until smooth. Taste and add a little salt and pepper. Add the chicken and sultanas, then fold gently until everything is coated. Chill for 10 minutes if you have time, it lets the flavours settle. Scatter over the toasted almonds just before serving. Spoon into soft bread for sandwiches, tuck into wraps for lunch boxes, or pile it over mixed leaves with cucumber and tomato for a generous salad bowl for the adults. It is familiar, softly spiced, and quietly comforting, which is exactly what a good lunch should be. Which is why I dedicated a whole chapter to picnics and sandwiches. Not because they are clever, but because they sit right in the middle of real life. A sandwich wrapped in paper. A flask of tea. A rug on the grass. Food that travels with you, waits patiently, and still feels like care when you finally sit down. The supermarket fridges in the UK are full of ready made sandwich fillers now. Tubs of Coronation Chicken, tubs of Egg Mayonnaise, tubs of everything. They do their job brilliantly.. Making your own is a small act of reclaiming something. You choose the bread, the pickle, the sharpness, the softness. You make it how your family actually likes it. In a world of lunch rules, busy schedules and half eaten boxes, there is something steady about simple food made with attention. It reminds us that eating is not only about filling up. It is about pausing, even briefly, and feeling looked after. That is what picnics and sandwiches have always done best. They make ordinary days softer, one bite at a time. You can find lots more in the picnic and sandwich chapter in Pork Pies & the Perfect Pickle Cook Book here! |
