Souperb! And other winter warmers to get you through February

February is perhaps the only month in which I make soup once a week, unfailingly hearty and homely, often using stock from the bones, bits and bobs in the fridge. There is no set recipe. I cook with whatever needs using up: carrots, celery and celeriac, leeks, tired tomatoes and wilted herbs, all simmered with onions and, if I have some, bones from the Sunday roast. If not, then I make a vegetarian version, slipping in some dried mushrooms and a sheet of seaweed for depth. I admire, indeed crave, a soup with a backbone.

Stock made, I will strain it and add lentils or cooked beans (haricot, judion, cannellini) and, at the last minute, a bunch of greens. Miso paste gets a regular invitation. As does any chilli paste I have to hand. This week has been the turn of creamy onion soup (pictured above), a soft, almost velvety version made with celery, bay and thyme, and eaten with sweet roast onions and torn speck for the meat eaters.

The cold snap has done wonders for the greens. Frost seems to have a mellowing effect on the more strident notes of kale and cavolo nero. Those who, like me, chomp their kale in its raw state, will be grateful. The icy weather renders sprouts a little sweeter, and is often a thoroughly good thing. Cold sharpens the appetite, too. Rachel Roddy’s Neapolitan-inspired soup with greens and cheese has ticked both the soup and greens boxes rather neatly this week.

Carbs have dominated my dinners for the last few weeks, but, ever greedy, I have doubled up. Not content with potatoes or pasta alone, I will add a second layer of starch without a trace of guilt. My supper, my waistline. Top of the list has been Meera Sodha’s chickpea and potato curry, a dish that could see anybody through the chilly February nights. My own recipe for baked potatoes and butter beans is cosy and comforting as a hot-water bottle. Although, when it comes to double-carb recipes, I must say my jerusalem artichoke and mograbia supper trumps the lot.

It is February, so give this man a hot pudding. There are so many contenders, from bread and butter pud to rhubarb crisp, sticky toffee and spotted dick, possibly a Sussex pond pudding in all its citrus stickiness for those brave enough to go into the battle of making one. But, for me, the real joy lies in the simplicity of a fine rice pudding. My mum would put one in the bottom oven of the Aga and leave it for hours, often forgetting about it altogether, until it emerged in all its silken creaminess under a swollen dome of skin. A luscious treat under a tent of gold and black. Then there is Felicity Cloake’s perfect version.

The week’s eating had the sweetest of endings. I have never understood how mincemeat, that glorious stir-up of dried fruits, brandy and sugar, got stuck with such a short life. Benjamina Ebuehi’s mincemeat frangipane turnovers are tender, crumbly proof that this preserve is far too good for Christmas alone. I have already squirrelled away a few jars of mincemeat for this recipe. Anyone who ever has tried to find it in June will know where I am coming from.

Aubergine overload | An extraordinary week in that I have lived almost entirely on leftovers. Nothing wrong with that, but it’s a fine line between opening the fridge door with glee to find dinner already made and being trolled by a dish that won’t go away. I test recipes for a living, but there is only so much aubergine curry a man can take.

Stew beat salad | Though I spent the week clearing up the treasure in the fridge, I managed to make Georgina Hayden’s brothy braised chicory with beans, which, with its double umami hit from anchovies and parmesan, is my sort of supper. I had planned the chicory for a salad (with blood oranges and crumbled feta) but decided it was too damn cold outside.

Blown away | The approach of yet another storm sent me in search of a dish with a hunk of meat. José Pizarro came to the rescue with a rim of golden pork fat to warm and insulate, sweet leeky juices to scoop up with a piece of bread and a meaty bone to suck. The man is a genius.

Edible thermals | Long, complex and multilayered dal recipes – the sort that make you scour the shelves of your local Indian grocer’s for the ingredients – can be a pleasing way to spend a wet February afternoon. For a midweek version, I look for something I can make without having to go shopping and head, time and again, for Meera Sodha’s tarka dal. I use the recipe as it stands or tweak it to suit what I have to hand. Dal is, like porridge, soup and a simple stew, pretty much essential eating for the next few weeks. A recipe as comforting as putting your thermals on the radiator before you put them on.