WINTER WARMERS

These new indulgent recipes from contributing editor Diana Henry are so good, you’ll want to go in for seconds

Diana Henry’s indulgently cheesy dishes

If I could have only one meal for the rest of my life, it would be bread and cheese. A green salad on the side with no herbs or cucumber, just a good dressing, would be welcome, too. This, to me, is the perfect meal. I like cheese in all its forms, even the kind of cheese that’s considered ‘bad’. Nothing cheers me up when I’m sad like a ham and cheese toastie (and cheese slices are fine by me), or toast with a thick layer of Dairylea. It worked when I was a teenager and it still works now. I do like going to the other end of the spectrum though, to great cheeses. If bread and cheese were my only meal I’d like an inexhaustible supply plucked from all over the world. That way, I could educate myself by trying a new one every day and never run out of options.

Before I had children, I used to go every winter to a little hotel near Megève in France. I hate skiing – I can’t think of anything worse than being incompetent and wet at the same time – so I gave up on that but kept going to Megève. Basically, I went for the cheese. During the day I would walk around town taking notes in all the fromageries, and in the evening I eschewed smarter restaurants to eat in the homely little place attached to our hotel. It did all the skier’s classics, such as tartiflette, raclette and fondue, but, even better, it had a cheese trolley that would make cheese lovers weep. The patron – a tall, annoyingly self-satisfied man – pushed around this chariot of perfection and made me suffer every night. ‘Vous avez choisi, Madame?’ he would ask imperiously, while I ineptly fumbled with my Guide des Fromages. Faced with three tiers of Savoie cheeses in peak condition, I didn’t want to choisi at all. I wanted him to leave the trolley by my table and go away.

At home I always have extra mature cheddar – that and British milk are the only things I miss when I’m abroad – and, at this time of year, beaufort, tomme, vacherin and a soft blue. In spring I like goat’s cheeses because they seem fresher, more in tune with the season, but in January I like strong cheeses, either creamy or hard, that smell of nuts and apples and farmyards. The soft ones are best when they ooze all over the plate, so ripe and rich you can sit like a princess and sup them from a spoon. Ever since I learnt to make sauce mornay – the lesson for that came straight after bechamel – I’ve needed very little persuading to cook with cheese as well. Cauliflower cheese and macaroni cheese saw me through university, but I’ve upgraded to luxurious versions. The cauliflower recipe overleaf is not a fallback for when you’re skint, but a proper dish in its own right, and the mac and cheese can be adapted to suit other vegetables, too.