This past week I was reminded of that as I set out to make a do-ahead vegetable side. Summer is technically here, and I wanted the easy nonchalance of a casual Sunday lunch on the terrace. I knew there would be sausages and lamb cutlets on the barbecue, but I also wanted a substantial vegetable dish to balance out the richer eating that tends to happen at this time of year.
Wandering through the market, I spotted a pile of small, shiny capsicums winking at me across the aisle. I have a soft spot for tight little red capsicum; they need little more than a drizzle of oil and a hot grill to bring out their best. As Jane Grigson advises in Jane Grigson’s Vegetable Book, “avoid any that are wrinkled or patched with brown. They should be smooth and sleek, with a glossy brightness”.
They also brought to mind a lunch dish I ate years ago where capsicum were stuffed with rice, anchovies, olives, and plenty of garlic. This time, I wanted to lean less strong and salty, and more nutty and herby. That was the plan, anyway. I felt confident I had enough on hand at home to make it work.
I thought I had freekeh in the pantry, though it turned out to be buckwheat. No issue. Many whole grains are interchangeable: barley, freekeh, bulgur, buckwheat, brown rice, farro, quinoa. Even cooked lentils, moghrabieh, or fregola would work in the stuffing, though I tend to favour the nuttiness of grains.
From there, I took stock of the herbs I was leaning towards. Dried oregano is always to hand, and I also had some fresh sage. Fresh sage and rosemary can overpower with their resinous notes, so it pays to keep a firm rein on them. Pine nuts and currants felt right too. I think I was channeling Italian islands. With some tasting and tweaking along the way, the recipe came together.
Here’s the link to the original recipe in full. Below, I’ve dissected the ingredients and method, detailing where variations and substitutions could be made. Consider it my working notes—how I approach recipes as inspiration rather than resolute instruction.
1/2 cup buckwheat
Grains can swap out easily but they do need to be cooked. Other options are cooked lentils, quinoa or even toasted breadcrumbs.
1/4 cup currants
Dried fruit adds a touch of sweetness totally optional. If choosing to swap out, go for golden raisin, chopped dried figs to keep it in the right realm.
1/4 cup pine nuts
Sub in almonds, walnuts, or leave them out altogether.
1/4 cup caramelised onions
Caramelised onion relish or finely sliced/diced spring onions, onions, or shallots; cooked leeks also work.
1 tbsp chopped sage
1 tbsp dried oregano
On the herb front, I like the idea of thyme, rosemary (don’t overdo it as it’s quite resinous), parsley, sage and oregano. To serve, I’d add fresh basil, oregano, parsley or even mint.
Spices I might also be tempted to add include a little smoked paprika, cumin or fennel seed.
1 tsp capers, rinsed
Capers – again, totally optional. Leave them out if you don’t like them.
salt & ground white pepper
How much or how little (if at all) you season the dish is up to you.
4 small red capsicum
Sweet little thin peppers would work too. You could even select small eggplant, zucchini, tomato or onion; these will need a cavity excavated and then you could cook down the extra flesh and add it to the grain mix.
1 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
EVOO keeps the dish in its current Mediterranean realm, but even this is flexible.
Other possible additions to take a stuffed capsicum in an altogether delicious direction
Meat – some mince, up to 200 g pork or lamb would be my preference, though you could also use tinned anchovies or sardines to stay in a salty, sharp profile.
Cheese – grate in pecorino or Parmigiano Reggiano; crumble in halloumi or feta; or do as I did and add nubbins of goat feta afterwards.
Cook the buckwheat and drain well.
Alternatively, buy sachets of precooked grain or rice, or use several-day-old bread rehydrated with a little stock or water.
Then toss with currants, pine nuts, onions, herbs, capers, and season to taste with salt and white pepper.
Pause here for up to three days without batting an eye.
Cut the capsicum in half, then remove the seeds and white membrane. Lay the capsicum skin-side down in an ovenproof baking dish and fill each cavity with the buckwheat mix.
Or keep the capsicum whole: slice around the top, scoop out the seeds and membrane, fill, and bake vertically. Done this way (particularly if they’re on the larger side), they’ll just take a little longer to cook through.
Again, you can pause at this point for several days before baking off.
Drizzle with olive oil and bake, covered, at 200°C for 25–30 minutes, until the capsicum have softened but not collapsed.
Serve warm or at room temperature, or store in the fridge, well covered, for up to three days. Just before serving, top with fresh herbs and crumbled feta, chèvre, or grated pecorino.
What I like most about this sort of dish is how calmly it fits into real life. You can make it days ahead, adjust it to suit what’s in the cupboard, and serve it warm or not without anyone feeling short-changed. It holds its shape, travels well, and sits happily alongside meat, fish, or other vegetables without demanding attention.
More than that, it’s a reminder of how I actually cook. I start with an idea, take stock of what’s around me, and make small decisions as I go. Sometimes the grain changes, sometimes the herbs, sometimes the direction entirely. The point isn’t to land on the same result every time, but to arrive at something that makes sense in that moment.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: recipes are templates, not a strict set of instructions. This past week I was reminded of that as I set out to make a do-ahead vegetable side. Summer is technically here, and I wanted the easy nonchalance of a casual Sunday…
These stuffed capsicums are the sort of low-fuss meal I keep coming back to. They’re happy made ahead and served warm or at room temperature, which makes them ideal for lazy lunches or unfussy entertaining.
The recipe is basically a riff off a Nigella Lawson recipe. Recipes never come out of thin air; we are inspired by mere fact of existing in the world.