tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-85427900231396770562024-03-19T07:21:31.420+00:00Pies and FriesAdventures, reviews, recipes and gluttonyAmyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15971416625448882965noreply@blogger.comBlogger520125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8542790023139677056.post-58213298984101439372020-12-02T19:54:00.001+00:002020-12-02T19:54:31.836+00:00week 46 - Fire Island - Eleanor Ford<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUYQHEyqfXP_4LPjWLy_JEqUJ1xvgDJ4wHtugeYWQ_SVrR5Ewu6GkStboXDuurk5CJmVShHx_OUYAPpKXmB30qwkFhoMATSFqsMkl74mTSLgcyN3niwjvdEhMb9bQaxsenmfsXFVI7Y1Za/s4032/20201112_131219.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUYQHEyqfXP_4LPjWLy_JEqUJ1xvgDJ4wHtugeYWQ_SVrR5Ewu6GkStboXDuurk5CJmVShHx_OUYAPpKXmB30qwkFhoMATSFqsMkl74mTSLgcyN3niwjvdEhMb9bQaxsenmfsXFVI7Y1Za/w400-h300/20201112_131219.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Of the (literally) thousands of things I have cooked for the Ewing, there is only one she hasn't eaten; my beef rendang. Describing it as 'gritty' (I wasn't allowed to use her coffee grinder to grind the spices...) and 'too hot'. She actually cried. Firstly because of all the chillis and secondly as she didn't want to miss out on dinner. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I must admit, I actually thought it was pretty good and bravely managed to eat my way through it - alongside a large glass of water - but rendang has always been a favourite of mine. I would say since the days of visiting Bali as a child (my Dad was a freight forwarder in the 80s, and worked with Garuda Airlines) but I can't say I actually remember eating it when we were there. Perhaps because it's a Sumatran dish, or perhaps because I was too busy drinking green Fanta and eating banana fritters.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhesTSkYxEfJ3CUJprzgd3NVQmOA4L0r49qHPiRdwh4AssftpJFDdfsui4Oy_BMWK6r1cvcpc5K1W30FPQyXu4s-ciiTUwjXmV72F0TrILGRr06eThYhzFlntZw6VE2GD6MBU0SQAm9saVU/s4032/20201112_154234.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhesTSkYxEfJ3CUJprzgd3NVQmOA4L0r49qHPiRdwh4AssftpJFDdfsui4Oy_BMWK6r1cvcpc5K1W30FPQyXu4s-ciiTUwjXmV72F0TrILGRr06eThYhzFlntZw6VE2GD6MBU0SQAm9saVU/w400-h300/20201112_154234.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">While this disappointing dinner happened years ago, I've never let the Ewing forget it. Mostly by randomly bringing it up out the blue, while dramatically exclaiming that I wouldn't make it for her again while she retorted with 'well, that's hardly a threat'. Of course, I always wanted to make it again - if only to prove to my wife I could make a version she would would like (and yes, of course, because I like it too...).</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Enter Fire Islands, another book I accidentally somehow bought while browsing the internet. A purchase I quickly justified at the idea of recreating the foodie memories of my youth, as the book contains familiar satay, roast pork (a Balinese speciality) and a chicken and coconut curry from Lombok - a neighbouring Indonesian island we flew to in a tiny little turbo prop which I remember for the white sands and tropical fish and getting sick and hallucinating in bed while watching a lizard climbing the wall - that I also wanted to try.</div><div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWL3n52MUF0Fxk5rnxyilbhAjwHjPssdDuCjQiBWIhP3-5pQvKtLHFaheEFDH8gR55PQkJqhAh-qZBhxdAg3J9GUbS8XuU23cDIPu5o-VXvPZ7UJdMfpiD-0S1Xy4lR3oJVvY-TIAkjsVZ/s4032/20201112_095624.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWL3n52MUF0Fxk5rnxyilbhAjwHjPssdDuCjQiBWIhP3-5pQvKtLHFaheEFDH8gR55PQkJqhAh-qZBhxdAg3J9GUbS8XuU23cDIPu5o-VXvPZ7UJdMfpiD-0S1Xy4lR3oJVvY-TIAkjsVZ/w300-h400/20201112_095624.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">Rendang is slightly unusual as you make it in reverse to the way you most slow-cooked stews. Here you braise the beef (something that benefits from slow cooking, like brisket or shin) in coconut milk and spices until the liquid has completely reduced and the meat begins to fry in it's own fat plus the oil from the coconut milk and the intensely flavoured sauce has become wonderfully fragrant and sticky. </div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">It isn't hard to make - you could even do the first part in a slow cooker or in the oven, and then finish off reducing on the hob - but you do have to watch over it for the last 20/30 minutes or so - it always takes a little longer than you think - so the meat doesn't catch and start to burn.</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipyVeSGg2sW3hYm-BSKgUEt1MyhyXhSprx8Z-h7-YUEg4-5cES0nRz3hCY1QmiBDv2r5OzGsyQmp-PzLIyB2u8NaLGneOq8qQkkYqYkORYfY0XjQqTDHEGQd_JzDv56NXiBJuQbhXunT-j/s4032/20201112_101249.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipyVeSGg2sW3hYm-BSKgUEt1MyhyXhSprx8Z-h7-YUEg4-5cES0nRz3hCY1QmiBDv2r5OzGsyQmp-PzLIyB2u8NaLGneOq8qQkkYqYkORYfY0XjQqTDHEGQd_JzDv56NXiBJuQbhXunT-j/w400-h300/20201112_101249.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijFhlS5DGfvA6Q262wk_1YS0Bs4ZUkK4tzicw1KqScjWnwXY185Qg2th5ZyUyQUtoQ4v4VHs4UnWEkLub7J78uh0eqxU8HQeRGSB1OIdpBFqKQ7HAncZE-ix74F_cA_dxWtqZ0zInNZz7J/s4032/20201112_114842.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijFhlS5DGfvA6Q262wk_1YS0Bs4ZUkK4tzicw1KqScjWnwXY185Qg2th5ZyUyQUtoQ4v4VHs4UnWEkLub7J78uh0eqxU8HQeRGSB1OIdpBFqKQ7HAncZE-ix74F_cA_dxWtqZ0zInNZz7J/w400-h300/20201112_114842.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">The slow cooking means that, if prepared properly until the sauce is very thick, the rendang will last for a week or so in the fridge. Although, I have to report, this was wolfed down greedily by both of us Despite it's richness, we could of happily finished it all in one go but I did manage to stretch it out over two nights, served with turmeric rice and tenderstem broccoli. I think I've finally redeemed myself.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg14-eum0L0ODr4-gXEZLs5i8hGXMnaKI1Zmqfaqy9xwnR1Hx7qMHeYy98DV9my6I-Kfnl_-4k4pKTsRhgRAI6h4v-tQSV9n0xdMLmgA7mB_wK9T9qyvn8Koutq2NYfuLG5bmgx3sJwfSoa/s4032/20201112_124217.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg14-eum0L0ODr4-gXEZLs5i8hGXMnaKI1Zmqfaqy9xwnR1Hx7qMHeYy98DV9my6I-Kfnl_-4k4pKTsRhgRAI6h4v-tQSV9n0xdMLmgA7mB_wK9T9qyvn8Koutq2NYfuLG5bmgx3sJwfSoa/w400-h300/20201112_124217.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Beef Rendang</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Adapted from Fire Island by Eleanor Ford </b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">2 tins full-fat coconut milk</div><div style="text-align: left;">1kg beef brisket or shin, cut into bite-sized pieces</div><div style="text-align: left;">1 tablespoon dark palm sugar or brown sugar</div><div style="text-align: left;">2 teaspoons salt</div><div style="text-align: left;">2 lime leaves</div><div style="text-align: left;">1 lemongrass stick, trimmed, bruised and tied in a knot</div><div style="text-align: left;">1 cinnamon stick</div><div style="text-align: left;">spice paste</div><div style="text-align: left;">8 small red Asian shallots, peeled (I used one red onion)</div><div style="text-align: left;">5 large red chillies, seeded</div><div style="text-align: left;">4 garlic cloves, peeled</div><div style="text-align: left;">2.5 cm galangal, skin scrubbed (I used more ginger)</div><div style="text-align: left;">2.5 cm ginger, peeled</div><div style="text-align: left;">2.5 cm turmeric, peeled, or 1 teaspoon ground turmeric</div><div style="text-align: left;">1/4 nutmeg, grated</div><div style="text-align: left;">pinch of ground cloves</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Roughly chop all the ingredients for the spice baste and whizz to a paste in a food processor or Nutribullet. Add a good splash of the coconut milk to help the blades do their work. Once smooth, transfer to a large wok or large, shallow casserole pan.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Add all the other ingredients to the wok, making sure there is enough liquid to submerge the meat – add a splash of water if needed. Bring to the boil, stirring to stop the coconut milk splitting. Lower the heat and cook at a slow-medium bubble, more lively than a simmer as the liquid needs to reduce. </div><div style="text-align: left;">Cook uncovered for about 2 hours, stirring from time to time. The meat should be tender, most of the liquid evaporated and the oil will have separated from the coconut milk. Remove the lemongrass and cinnamon.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">At this stage, the meat and spices that have been braising will start to fry in the hot oil. At this point take care than the meat doesn't start to stick and burn. For about 105 minutes, you will need to stir gently but frequently over a medium heat until the coconut oil becomes thick and brown. The stir-frying then needs to be continuous for the final 15 minutes or so, until the oil has been absorbed by the meat, which will be a dark brown.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Leave to rest (overnight if possible). Rendang keeps well in the fridge and the flavours only improve.</div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg954zF_3aqKvn7IMYiXEJM1pg4GPe5WAs9U8IdpttKXFE6o5PhjFAv3ClP4d5b_UuKaxSASK9quMRLfafWoFQaCGk9nxBFtliCALKpsaRfVbBLJozm9Jl3QnGPuoSpRD_roaKTGwhMen91/s4032/20201113_183930.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg954zF_3aqKvn7IMYiXEJM1pg4GPe5WAs9U8IdpttKXFE6o5PhjFAv3ClP4d5b_UuKaxSASK9quMRLfafWoFQaCGk9nxBFtliCALKpsaRfVbBLJozm9Jl3QnGPuoSpRD_roaKTGwhMen91/w400-h300/20201113_183930.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div></div></div>Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15971416625448882965noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8542790023139677056.post-32838688676400214302020-11-30T21:15:00.003+00:002020-11-30T21:15:46.742+00:00week 45 - New British Classics - Gary Rhodes<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9aEDNPHeGHZORACmb1vz9-cAflGY9PwXJwx-jkdW9jQjehgC-rKNhDZFmDVW2cbBEJ6V-uWRJBq1zIAoP4RXePwP457oWfpVlytgTsqem-3krKxYNdRDoRH5EJlhLBWZT-0ppRcEMXeO6/s4032/20201108_135619.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9aEDNPHeGHZORACmb1vz9-cAflGY9PwXJwx-jkdW9jQjehgC-rKNhDZFmDVW2cbBEJ6V-uWRJBq1zIAoP4RXePwP457oWfpVlytgTsqem-3krKxYNdRDoRH5EJlhLBWZT-0ppRcEMXeO6/w400-h300/20201108_135619.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">A neighbour of my Mum's gives her a brace of pheasants every Christmas. The first time she drove by and offered her some, my Mum enthusiastically agreed, peered into the car boot and was greeted by two beaks and lots of feathers. Luckily she's made of pretty stern stuff, and soon after they were plucked and drawn and had become pheasant casserole. Which has become our traditional Christmas Eve supper (probably replaced by KFC on the way back from the pub this year, as the Ewing and I are staying home. I can deal with that; as long as there's hot wings and extra gravy).</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM-L_BLaDj8gaUuA1c_Fbw4G-OtfmmqbD5M9kkNLBlZe4zrZiP-gnymPl71PLcKgZ_CBr6UgBUqKtkkYn5QyrTbygp8Jq64yhiQUwzekvVLfEqfKyqVpGJIKfQqkgRCBs_JHXURn49xfAV/s4032/20201108_140256.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM-L_BLaDj8gaUuA1c_Fbw4G-OtfmmqbD5M9kkNLBlZe4zrZiP-gnymPl71PLcKgZ_CBr6UgBUqKtkkYn5QyrTbygp8Jq64yhiQUwzekvVLfEqfKyqVpGJIKfQqkgRCBs_JHXURn49xfAV/w400-h300/20201108_140256.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">While nothing is quite the same in 2020, I didn't want to miss out on game season completely, so I turned to the late, great Gary Rhodes' New British Classics - a tome that celebrates and reinvents archetypal dishes from haggis to hotpot - in search of some inspiration. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">While Rhodes' style is a little too precise for my 'chuck it in and give it a stir' philosophy, it's a great book - enthusiastically written and researched at a time when it was most needed - in 1988 Rhodes appeared on Floyd on Britain and Island, cooking his <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SnkCQpawrb0&list=LL91f2ihHQMCt8vcamid9j2Q&index=694">signature oxtail dish</a> but by the time British Classics was published, a little over a decade later, British beef on the bone had been banned due to vCJD. He still included the recipe and, thankfully, it's now safely available again. Although I wonder if the boost he have it also accounts for the eye-watering cost of buying what once was a cheap cut.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0dp3WzEy1_2mhMAZ0AETiVJTLPfro6oMkPcPKphX80WXAjUoy_hzw_htOHRtK8PoX6shskizoKY2f9XW63qx46meUHSqT4gr7pzScJX15LxP29I81Nc-cGZs-fWVZHAdrwFtOza6-sMeO/s4032/20201102_160355.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0dp3WzEy1_2mhMAZ0AETiVJTLPfro6oMkPcPKphX80WXAjUoy_hzw_htOHRtK8PoX6shskizoKY2f9XW63qx46meUHSqT4gr7pzScJX15LxP29I81Nc-cGZs-fWVZHAdrwFtOza6-sMeO/w400-h300/20201102_160355.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">Unlike my Mum, I don't live near a shoot. I'm also more than happy for someone to do the hard work for me. Luckily Waitrose came to the rescue, with the bonus that their pheasants are not only- oven ready, but are are also bacon-topped to protect the white meat that's prone to dryness. Of course you could easily use chicken in this recipe - whole or jointed - or a guinea fowl or a couple of partridge, which should be pretty easy to source at this time of year. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9fYiuFY8_1Ki-vJ3PdEEiGmb6TUWvFPlereLB9ZtDsMwKjlY_jsnqDXyeb80jJoGt-ST_KUv3MjgcQ-Jf2ucVI-E0Vab3RND-kHaU73H8RkXZqECUeWhdwAS2nO7Ept58jXZ0E3QZBZKG/s4032/20201108_121130.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9fYiuFY8_1Ki-vJ3PdEEiGmb6TUWvFPlereLB9ZtDsMwKjlY_jsnqDXyeb80jJoGt-ST_KUv3MjgcQ-Jf2ucVI-E0Vab3RND-kHaU73H8RkXZqECUeWhdwAS2nO7Ept58jXZ0E3QZBZKG/w400-h300/20201108_121130.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">Gary roasts his pheasant while the barley is cooking but, in the absence of a main oven, I pot-roasted mine in the top oven with the lid on, sitting on the part-cooked barley, to keep the delicate meat stayed moist. I also used smoked bacon, not green, from the great <a href="https://www.orchardviewfarm.co.uk/">Orchard View Farm </a>shop, deep in the Buckinghamshire countryside, as I the smokiness matched the whisky. </div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Finally I chucked in some celery, a great match with pheasant. Some diced carrot or mushrooms, added to the pot with the barley, would also work well and boost the veg quota. A perfect autumnal Sunday lunch after a long walk through a misty wood. Follow with a nip of the same whisky that went into the sauce.</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4TAHqidn5ZMp7LJg00xZUXe-M6fwN6Umbbcu-cK-3ce5SS3jXwRcLOaQrP8hrFQHPWNdt_yy1PveMXZYKcDAcyjJxmS-peLYdVSN1TDWaV3E8vCdOFFRps5UZmgw3NXs8NbJ8jZ4wuKBY/s4032/20201108_122110.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4TAHqidn5ZMp7LJg00xZUXe-M6fwN6Umbbcu-cK-3ce5SS3jXwRcLOaQrP8hrFQHPWNdt_yy1PveMXZYKcDAcyjJxmS-peLYdVSN1TDWaV3E8vCdOFFRps5UZmgw3NXs8NbJ8jZ4wuKBY/w400-h300/20201108_122110.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><b><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Pot roasted pheasant with bacon and pearl barley</b></div></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Adapted from Gary Rhodes New British Classics</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: left;">1 oven-ready hen pheasant</div><div><div style="text-align: left;">175g smoked bacon lardons</div><div style="text-align: left;">2 sticks of celery, finely chopped</div><div style="text-align: left;">1 onion, finely chopped</div><div style="text-align: left;">2tbsp vegetable oil or rapeseed oil</div><div style="text-align: left;">600ml chicken stock</div><div style="text-align: left;">1 tbsp fresh parsley, chopped</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">For the sauce</div><div style="text-align: left;">4 tbsp Scotch whisky</div><div style="text-align: left;">200ml chicken stock</div><div style="text-align: left;">100ml double cream</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Rinse the barley under a cold tap. Heat 1tbsp of the oil in a casserole dish (with a lid) add the bacon, celery and onion and cook until onion is translucent. Add the barley, cover with stock, put the lid the pan and cook on low for 30 mins until the barley is nearly done.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Pre-heat the oven to 180c</div><div style="text-align: left;">While the barley is cooking heat a tbsp of oil in a pan and place the pheasant, breast side down, in the pan. Brown both sides and then place, breast side up, on top of the barley. Cover with a lid, place in the oven and cook for 25/30 minutes or until the juices run clear when you pierce the thigh.</div><div style="text-align: left;">While the pheasant is roasting, place the pan used to brown the pheasant back on the hob and add the whisky to deglaze. Add the chicken stock, reduce by half and add the cream. Simmer for another five minutes and then add add another splash of neat whisky.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Cut the legs off the birds and carve the breasts. Place the meat on a bed of the bacon and barley, serve with veg and the cream sauce poured over the pheasant.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Finish with chopped parsley.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtKTKiTzCWIwWiOT-SZDq-IWR2iDj94k7JpH0qKe-xIolth60aAVGCVEPekUVdAqOOFUz8fqxemru6TqDTxHD5h8cjbO-asNYPM_dcKyMD0BA4qIjykD0Mcsds_B3XZCI9moETlCxihOs3/s4032/20201108_152155.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtKTKiTzCWIwWiOT-SZDq-IWR2iDj94k7JpH0qKe-xIolth60aAVGCVEPekUVdAqOOFUz8fqxemru6TqDTxHD5h8cjbO-asNYPM_dcKyMD0BA4qIjykD0Mcsds_B3XZCI9moETlCxihOs3/w400-h300/20201108_152155.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p></p></div></div></div>Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15971416625448882965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8542790023139677056.post-17367832311575694992020-11-28T16:25:00.001+00:002020-11-28T16:25:45.767+00:00week 44 - River Cottage Everyday - Hugh Fearnley Whittingstall<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyqQW9Nk5bG1Te6K69NWWctlFoOY6HbKceuYOXsUPDhxhffcyzLb_byRB225cBCh9SutWSAe6gKFN29b9r_WD22KbOFeG_B1HnbCXZeshYujhe1-hMJzS1eAJyDEfTU3t4X0X73-A2r427/s4032/20201029_192610.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyqQW9Nk5bG1Te6K69NWWctlFoOY6HbKceuYOXsUPDhxhffcyzLb_byRB225cBCh9SutWSAe6gKFN29b9r_WD22KbOFeG_B1HnbCXZeshYujhe1-hMJzS1eAJyDEfTU3t4X0X73-A2r427/w400-h300/20201029_192610.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I remember borrowing a copy of River Cottage Everyday from the library over a decade ago, when when it first came out, and excitedly poring over the lunch ideas, such as the mackerel with puy lentils, leftover lamb with lemon and mint, or the green bean and chicken salad with almonds. And then picking up a Boots meal deal (chicken and stuffing on malted bread, Innocent juice - one without kiwi - and a packet of salt and vinegar squares) on the way to work. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGE2xKL2FFVTD7Y6mTuKKp6IoU6eNdYs6dpo1dboW_OtFjjRJyoxneESIQAjw4q6fr7xh48qK-6Cp_pUHcXzvRDjibddMhsqtD-LF8OJCCdGOkUN8zARD6hVZwZhPjFHhuM-PfUUSuO6iz/s4032/20201029_100845.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGE2xKL2FFVTD7Y6mTuKKp6IoU6eNdYs6dpo1dboW_OtFjjRJyoxneESIQAjw4q6fr7xh48qK-6Cp_pUHcXzvRDjibddMhsqtD-LF8OJCCdGOkUN8zARD6hVZwZhPjFHhuM-PfUUSuO6iz/w400-h300/20201029_100845.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">Being stuck at home a lot this year, and rapidly running out of inspiration for easy dinners and wfh lunches, I decided to order a second-hand copy (again, ignoring my own advice to use the books I already have, now piling up in heaps on the floor, as they won't fit on the shelves) </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Predictably, I haven't made any of the recipes that I have bookmarked but I have made the one recipe that takes the longest; the overnight bacon chops (to be fair, it is hands off for 23 and a half hours of the prep time). I actually used a couple of king ribs for this, and you can even cure a piece of belly in the same way. It won't have the pink colour of commercial bacon (due to lack of nitrites) and you can't get rashers without a meat slicer, but you can cut into chunks and use in all the things you'd normally put bacon in (pretty much everything).</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbAnjHFs1xM5plbhCsOUGAUwsc9kmW6a2IEBpJdISTM91IGiGWAxn89ubL93QQY_VBkGiaWMNhvDfgU6qh5k6G9nUhmJuV9fsJrajom3S9OuNOm4D_G5n1J3-zso1jentJT_mLK_yoqlUp/s4032/20201019_125708.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbAnjHFs1xM5plbhCsOUGAUwsc9kmW6a2IEBpJdISTM91IGiGWAxn89ubL93QQY_VBkGiaWMNhvDfgU6qh5k6G9nUhmJuV9fsJrajom3S9OuNOm4D_G5n1J3-zso1jentJT_mLK_yoqlUp/w400-h300/20201019_125708.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Unusually, this #cookbookchallenge actually started with the sides first; in this case because I found a solitary turk's turban squash growing in the front garden on return from our holiday - between all the green tomatoes and the unfertilised tomatillo plant. After spotting it growing from from the rapidly withering vine that trailed across the lawn, I was determined to give it a fitting send off.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">As it wasn't a prize-winning size, and I wasn't quite sure how the flesh would taste, I also bought a medium crown prince squash (for a quid in Morrison's as part of their Halloween display. A bargain when I had bough one for nearly four times as much from Waitrose earlier in the year for my <a href="https://piesandfries.blogspot.com/2020/03/week-8-thai-food-david-thompson.html">Thai pork rib and pumpkin curry</a>).</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSEQ58CWQmSidurND2wGoj_OoGCAGylEafQXDzhiIDfrmlRpWADXnP3nKWAxm5dtM2GLkZSJoMkB-DDAw5Ozeq2SmKyCxxS5XuKcvyNK3zjQL_NotPR2Uj2xW0yYUZiStXeww0Hd-GSxMk/s4032/20201029_154035.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSEQ58CWQmSidurND2wGoj_OoGCAGylEafQXDzhiIDfrmlRpWADXnP3nKWAxm5dtM2GLkZSJoMkB-DDAw5Ozeq2SmKyCxxS5XuKcvyNK3zjQL_NotPR2Uj2xW0yYUZiStXeww0Hd-GSxMk/w400-h300/20201029_154035.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The result was Hugh's 'mushy squash'. So called as he recommends it as a autumnal replacement for the traditional peas, to accompany fried fish among many other things. The mix of squash worked very well, making a sweet and nutty mash flavoured with a little nutmeg and sage and plenty of butter. It was especially good against the saltiness of the cured pork rib.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><b>Mushy Squash</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><b>Adapted from River Cottage Everyday</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><b><br /></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">1 tablespoon rapeseed or olive oil</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">About 600g butternut or Crown Prince squash, peeled, deseeded and cut into small cubes</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">1 garlic clove, finely chopped</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">3–4 sage leaves, finely chopped</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">50g unsalted butter</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Heat the oil in a pan, add the squash and fry gently for a few minutes. Add the garlic and sage, season with salt and pepper and cook until the garlic just begins to colour. Immediately add 2–3 tablespoons of water to stop the garlic browning any more. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Cover the pan with a lid and let the squash finish cooking; it should be tender within about 10/15 minutes; add a little more water if the pan becomes dry.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Blend the squash along with the the butter, until you have a thick puree. Add a dash of milk or water if needed. Season to taste.</div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-banYAiywm65N7F0zq03eNkU8b3S54Bc2RpZ0KGADVApt9nVMx4huh0s-zaIsV2HJcbnQGt4ECsWWhQtS-FXnbYo_IH1gHFTxliDNqyN3S1xUzBuizkZm9rFmKLNWnV9v5XBNKXSDVaeS/s4032/20201026_145011.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-banYAiywm65N7F0zq03eNkU8b3S54Bc2RpZ0KGADVApt9nVMx4huh0s-zaIsV2HJcbnQGt4ECsWWhQtS-FXnbYo_IH1gHFTxliDNqyN3S1xUzBuizkZm9rFmKLNWnV9v5XBNKXSDVaeS/w400-h300/20201026_145011.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div><b>Overnight-cured bacon chops</b></div><div><b>Adapted from River Cottage Everyday</b></div><div><br /></div><div>4 large free-range pork chops or 2 king ribs</div><div>2 tbsp sunflower or groundnut oil</div><div><br /></div><div>50g fine sea salt</div><div>25g caster sugar or soft brown sugar</div><div>3 bay leaves, finely shredded</div><div>12 juniper berries, crushed</div><div>1 tsp freshly ground black pepper</div><div> </div><div>Combine all the ingredients for the cure and put them into a plastic container or ceramic dish (a metal one is liable to react with the cure). Add the pork chops and rub the cure lightly all over the meat with your fingers.</div><div> Cover the container and leave in a cool place (a cool larder or fridge) overnight or for at least 12 hours, or 24 hours for extra-large or thick-cut pork chops, but no longer....</div><div>Turn the chops once or twice, if you remember. Then rinse them well and pat dry.</div><div>Your pork is now cured, your chops are now bacon. </div><div>Use immediately or keep in a sealed container in the fridge for five to six days, and the flavour will improve. They also freeze well.</div><div>To cook the chops, heat the oil in a large frying pan over a high heat and brown them on both sides then place on a baking sheet in an oven, preheated at 180c, for 8 to 10 minutes, or until cooked through. Rest for five minutes before serving with squash squash, or mash and greens.</div></div><p></p>Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15971416625448882965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8542790023139677056.post-50305405761252999292020-11-22T11:47:00.001+00:002020-11-22T11:47:30.923+00:00week 43 - Falling Cloudberries - Tessa Kiros<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEo_71z8xzp3CbDNLEVP9v0QxXmHviLcuaDWRb3Hao4pY0f38KM0NirJFnL65nt4evdFRt_ebUSBPHpv_iyrVPhkNK3u78YHrQhBbJzkVLDUOa7FX8Pmqqrw-298M_CMc3iOqxGxY7yjHD/s4032/20201025_162501.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEo_71z8xzp3CbDNLEVP9v0QxXmHviLcuaDWRb3Hao4pY0f38KM0NirJFnL65nt4evdFRt_ebUSBPHpv_iyrVPhkNK3u78YHrQhBbJzkVLDUOa7FX8Pmqqrw-298M_CMc3iOqxGxY7yjHD/w400-h300/20201025_162501.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">In lockdown part one, back when we couldn't leave the house without 'a reasonable excuse', our Saturday routine mainly consisted of watching Saturday Kitchen and then hiking up the hill to the butchers to buy ingredients to recreate what we had just seen. I had even prepared my 'Matt Tebbutt made me do it' excuse, ready for if we were stopped by any policemen.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">One of the recipes we watched was from a clip of a Rick Stein Venice to Istanbul, where he was in a kitchen in the Greek Peloponnese watching a very jolly lady make a moussaka. As she was merrily cooking it, in between questioning Rick on why his shirt was so sodden (to be fair, in 40 plus degree heat I would have melted), making it the voice over advised that the secret to making the secret to a good moussaka was to fry all the vegetable in olive oil first. Even the site of Rick sweating profusely in the background wasn't enough to put the Ewing off.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCGvVkx-G1Pe_tQo-T2ia-ag-g_36LJMNqFfM2344Rh9VKRwNTjP0rGj-0YKxlrUiVpeFdhFd0bnF03sSCvNcnpciWHeBRKOHnibbkx62Y8AISkz0vj-pcA0vmChzaPVVJEeLqbXAUNWlO/s4032/20201024_170547.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCGvVkx-G1Pe_tQo-T2ia-ag-g_36LJMNqFfM2344Rh9VKRwNTjP0rGj-0YKxlrUiVpeFdhFd0bnF03sSCvNcnpciWHeBRKOHnibbkx62Y8AISkz0vj-pcA0vmChzaPVVJEeLqbXAUNWlO/w400-h300/20201024_170547.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">In those early summer summer, when we actually enjoyed a run of glorious weather, the idea of standing over a hot stove, frying things and dousing them in bechamel, seemed far less appealing. Despite the temperatures being far more clement in the Chilterns than the Greek Islands.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Still, I hadn't forgotten that that I had promised to make it, and so when the weather turned a bit cooler I turned to Falling Cloudberries - a book that traverses continents to bring together family recipes and has a big Greek and Cypriot chapter, based on food cooked by her paternal grandparents - for a recipe.</div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzo_fzEHYmFExVrvEINPZkTqX8TPyCiuY2OlyNrQcHgKrzfKUH0CZfRAeilAEKOAVgtBLOpPm7EF-CQSMotLKY93ZjYKugtD-9_xhhi_FJkAm6AJPFCSaZYH51mAiyUEyZBrGEP5aHf93f/s4032/20201024_154448.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzo_fzEHYmFExVrvEINPZkTqX8TPyCiuY2OlyNrQcHgKrzfKUH0CZfRAeilAEKOAVgtBLOpPm7EF-CQSMotLKY93ZjYKugtD-9_xhhi_FJkAm6AJPFCSaZYH51mAiyUEyZBrGEP5aHf93f/w400-h300/20201024_154448.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">This time the meat (I always thought moussaka was made with lamb but apparently beef is more traditional and Kiros uses a mixture of pork and beef) wasn't from the butcher, but instead from the Knepp Estate, bought from our camping trip back in August. Coming from longhorn cattle, raised on the estate, it was the perfect base for a rich tomatoey sauce with wine and onions and infused with bay leaves and cinnamon.</div></div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7JI52CAPnnlEG-MMC7gGI8pY1dGvXsmZDyCjW8IuPrWHkmALLDtEp7eRCEoM6bOSHP0HnuJ5cKygeH332brj_PWaczjTgji8r9OqASBhHXcstXLnqFRudMV2sQi_-IaY5K1wOiLZzeAEj/s4032/20201024_154134.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7JI52CAPnnlEG-MMC7gGI8pY1dGvXsmZDyCjW8IuPrWHkmALLDtEp7eRCEoM6bOSHP0HnuJ5cKygeH332brj_PWaczjTgji8r9OqASBhHXcstXLnqFRudMV2sQi_-IaY5K1wOiLZzeAEj/w400-h300/20201024_154134.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Many recipes only include a layer aubergines, but Kiros uses both aubergine and potato (my mother made a very 80s version with potato and aubergine, that I was never particularly a fan of. Sorry Mum), While the lady on Rick Stein also used courgettes in her version. Personally, I think the layer of spuds are what makes this dish a bit different, but go with what ever floats your boat.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I also grilled the aubergines and baked the potato slices - both brushed with oil - before layering. Not only does it make the dish a bit healthier (this is always going to be a bit of a rib-sticker) it's also far easier than having to fry everything in batches. I was also very impressed with how the potatoes came out and, cooked a little longer, would have made a great side dish on their own.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKi5S27l7dSGdHpm30UjT2oA5XT4CgKga4vdFF-DyuDcQu3nKHiShpndvuuiu_AVn7g-OAR8Fu5F7AtjgiZx0Otm4-kKjwGlRXc4VXjfyCtY-YClkMd5ek9NdpxPtmwQsqyqBuZkUYlzwA/s4032/20201024_154848.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKi5S27l7dSGdHpm30UjT2oA5XT4CgKga4vdFF-DyuDcQu3nKHiShpndvuuiu_AVn7g-OAR8Fu5F7AtjgiZx0Otm4-kKjwGlRXc4VXjfyCtY-YClkMd5ek9NdpxPtmwQsqyqBuZkUYlzwA/w400-h300/20201024_154848.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">Finally, the becahamel. Just a thick white sauce made with a simple roux of butter and flour and flavoured with a little freshly grated nutmeg. A blanket of comforting bliss. Just remember that the moussaka needs to stand for a while after the final cook, so that it doesn't collapse when you cut it. It is often served lukewarm, or even cold, which is not as strange as it seems, which also helps highlight all the individual layers of flavour. And always make more than you think you can eat, as the leftovers are even better the next day.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYddOufOoTy7M7vdafOp1S_CZHzAn8uIiuPi1yXuZ9oqBDYkGFDLG2O0SmXZy1t58aJBB1pfXenf_Uz0ACpmGbI3CYrW0z8PU3tznp9G5qRr-M9DorevaAki5nycRC_Lu_2ZdBGO9LjfFM/s4032/20201025_150844.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYddOufOoTy7M7vdafOp1S_CZHzAn8uIiuPi1yXuZ9oqBDYkGFDLG2O0SmXZy1t58aJBB1pfXenf_Uz0ACpmGbI3CYrW0z8PU3tznp9G5qRr-M9DorevaAki5nycRC_Lu_2ZdBGO9LjfFM/w400-h300/20201025_150844.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div><b>Moussaka - adapted from Tessa Kiros</b></div><div><br /></div>2 large aubergines<br />100ml light olive oil<br />1 large onion, finely chopped<br />2 garlic cloves, finely chopped<br />500g minced beef (or a ix of beef and pork)<br />1 tsp ground cinnamon<div>1 tsp dried oregano<br />1 bay leaf<br />125 ml white wine<br />1 tin of chopped tomatoes<br />500g potatoes, peeled and sliced into 1cm slices<br /><br />100 g butter<br />120 g plain flour<br />1 litre warm milk<br />freshly grated nutmeg<br /><br />Preheat the oven to 180c and turn the grill to high.<br />Trim the sends off the aubergine and slice length ways into 5 mm. place on a baking sheet, brush with oil on both sides and grill until golden on both sides.<br />Toss the potato slices in oil, salt and place on a baking tray, cook for about 25 minutes, turning halfway, until they have softened and are starting to colour.<br />Place the aubergine and potatoes on a plate to cool.</div><div><br />Heat 1 tablespoons of the oil in a wide non-stick saucepan. soften the onion, then add the garlic and cook for another couple of minutes, being careful not to let the garlic burn<br />Add the mince and cook over medium-high heat until the meat loses its water and begins to brown, breaking it up with a wooden spoon. Add the cinnamon, oregano and bay leaf and season with salt and pepper. When the mince is golden, add the wine let most of it evaporate, stirring up any bits from the bottom of the pan.<br />Add the tinned tomato and leave it to simmer for about 30 minutes, uncovered, stirring now and then. <br />Remove the slices to a plate lined with kitchen paper to absorb some of the oil while you finish the next lot, adding only a tablespoon of oil if possible between batches.</div><div><br />To finish - preheat the oven to 180c.</div><div>Arrange half the aubergine over the base of your oven dish. Then add half the meat. Add all the potatoes in the next layer, followed by a second layer of aubergine and a second layer of meat.<br />Finally, the bechamel should be made just before you bake the moussaka. Melt the butter in a saucepan. Whisk in the flour and cook for a few minutes, stirring constantly, then begin adding the warm milk, whisking constantly to stop lumps. Add salt, pepper and a grating of nutmeg and continue cooking on medium heat, for 5 minutes or so, stirring all the time, until you have a thcik, mooth sauce. Taste for seasoning and spoon over the mince. <br />Bake for 45 minutes – 1 hour with a baking sheet underneath to catch any spills, until the moussaka begins to bubble up and the top is golden in parts. Leave it in the oven to cool slightly before serving. Cut into traditional square slices to serve.<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHCbTvbTFV0_1wJC1AcwLaBVJkUSovQYlKVeJzE8WwL2XKhB9LLcbco8uQQERKr-MKDCaF1ncsGsRhU2rnnbnhM6wafEg2SBWTdKpgAzGhlYyoKX67bz8BoEWOkfpVXj3xMHyzqHtp5SFQ/s4032/20201025_162815.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHCbTvbTFV0_1wJC1AcwLaBVJkUSovQYlKVeJzE8WwL2XKhB9LLcbco8uQQERKr-MKDCaF1ncsGsRhU2rnnbnhM6wafEg2SBWTdKpgAzGhlYyoKX67bz8BoEWOkfpVXj3xMHyzqHtp5SFQ/w400-h300/20201025_162815.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p></div></div>Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15971416625448882965noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8542790023139677056.post-58544246042611439492020-11-17T21:03:00.001+00:002020-11-17T21:03:19.087+00:00week 42 - Lakeland Cookery<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4ebH6bI-0tUUCoqQ_QUbF02Kz0EHbpk1ybUCS-sSFnzu0_yOubZFGr2G_rjjWYbfY2x7UhYbewAucwQPhVzVuKrtoFH8QtYA_I3sFuk2xA68PWmJFsbaw1u5HXjL8Boz6p9vdJ7ecn6P6/s4032/20201016_173657.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4ebH6bI-0tUUCoqQ_QUbF02Kz0EHbpk1ybUCS-sSFnzu0_yOubZFGr2G_rjjWYbfY2x7UhYbewAucwQPhVzVuKrtoFH8QtYA_I3sFuk2xA68PWmJFsbaw1u5HXjL8Boz6p9vdJ7ecn6P6/w400-h300/20201016_173657.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The last part of the Cumbrian Trilogy was, unlike many final instalments, a stone cold classic; the cheese scone. It's not a spoiler to reveal that I am currently <i>sans</i> a main oven at home (mainly as I have written about it almost constantly since the fan finally gave up the ghost), and so I made good use of the well-equipped kitchen we had in the Lakes. We even baked a bloody Christmas cake, which the Ewing has been feeding religiously with cherry brandy weekly since we got back home.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiDmwyqNJSXaUmUFjJhk8otKE14kT2buLCutDyh7LJnLxrhqXfByyTUfen8H5sLOZS699u20-DjNHlvYe6ZjUtWrm9jNjaWBzXfA4ALYxNJKQjmBtZohvheoE4wZtQ8jTxdLULRsNM4Kj6/s4032/20201014_154847.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiDmwyqNJSXaUmUFjJhk8otKE14kT2buLCutDyh7LJnLxrhqXfByyTUfen8H5sLOZS699u20-DjNHlvYe6ZjUtWrm9jNjaWBzXfA4ALYxNJKQjmBtZohvheoE4wZtQ8jTxdLULRsNM4Kj6/w400-h300/20201014_154847.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The recipe was given a Cumbrian twist by the fact it came from my latest purchase - Lakeland Cookery 'compiled from recipes supplied by readers of Cumbria'. While the original point of #cookbookchallenge was to utilise the many cookbooks I already possess, inevitably I have bought several (exact number unknown. Not that I'd disclose anyway, in case my wife is reading this...) since the challenge has begun. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I saw this gem in a charity book shop in Kendal, so how could I refuse. And we picked up two St Michael cook books; the height of 80s dependability which adorned the bookshelves in both our mother's kitchens as we were growing up.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd35QUdnM4WN-IYAd1PKrz3V7JQ103meKD4db_moqQ9vV6rZ_P0T8d3IRlDhurfq7lYEzWJ_-e5EwW-IfR4rrYCPm9RFGRqsVkw1yOW0vsJm0zBTzJX95eGK1aOV6jUT1m8DP8B0I5iEHD/s4032/20201007_104336.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd35QUdnM4WN-IYAd1PKrz3V7JQ103meKD4db_moqQ9vV6rZ_P0T8d3IRlDhurfq7lYEzWJ_-e5EwW-IfR4rrYCPm9RFGRqsVkw1yOW0vsJm0zBTzJX95eGK1aOV6jUT1m8DP8B0I5iEHD/w400-h300/20201007_104336.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_Oqb5yUaLZNi5MMe79W6AVvOs1IPyFj89KSzAqpL7WG_yHzqjnGr96t_rl7Rpv9t1g2sLpjVjvDT21QtPCXJwMRUr_G4h1NWYFSH6CM6VCeoXKre1x2Dcp5N8uld3nPgusqToOrGOU11o/s4032/20201007_155518.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_Oqb5yUaLZNi5MMe79W6AVvOs1IPyFj89KSzAqpL7WG_yHzqjnGr96t_rl7Rpv9t1g2sLpjVjvDT21QtPCXJwMRUr_G4h1NWYFSH6CM6VCeoXKre1x2Dcp5N8uld3nPgusqToOrGOU11o/w400-h300/20201007_155518.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The scones received a further local boost by being filled with not one, not two, no not three, but four different types of Cumbrian cheese. The Holbrook (goat) and Fellstone (cow) came from Cartmel Cheeses (picked up after our visit to L'Enclume). While the Thornby Cumbrian Farmhouse (cow) was made down the road from where we were staying, and was left for us by our hosts. The final cheese was a gooey Eden Valley brie, that added some welcome ooze.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYYcfAYY8vonTJCf3qMArDX7LZiFoX4VwumzKS7wXOabtgNoiNtr7pPp74_IO3cZKB-AmK1s1NPCs5CQj3SAzc33EVQlqQL0CB8CCTT0KGxh9tOgc2qLSrZH8zoX6ZP_Peixzfyn0Hclcq/s4032/20201016_170710.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYYcfAYY8vonTJCf3qMArDX7LZiFoX4VwumzKS7wXOabtgNoiNtr7pPp74_IO3cZKB-AmK1s1NPCs5CQj3SAzc33EVQlqQL0CB8CCTT0KGxh9tOgc2qLSrZH8zoX6ZP_Peixzfyn0Hclcq/w400-h300/20201016_170710.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><b>Cumbrian Cheese Scones - adapted from Lakeland Cookery</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">225g self-raising flour, plus extra for dusting</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">pinch of salt</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">1 tbsp finely chopped chives</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">1 tsp baking powder</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">55g chilled butter, cut into cubes (you can also grate if you put into the freezer for half an hour before you need it)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">120g hard cheese, grated</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">30g brie or similar soft cheese, chopped into small chunks</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">90-100ml milk, plus 1 tbsp for glazing</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Heat the oven to 180c with a baking tray inside. Sift the flour, salt and baking powder into a bowl.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Add the butter to the bowl and lightly rub in with your fingertips to make breadcrumbs. Add 100g of the hard cheese and all the soft cheese and gently stir in.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Make a well in the centre of the mixture and slowly pour in the milk it comes together into a dough.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Flour a surface and shape into a round. Place on baking parchment, cut into six wedges, glaze with milk and sprinkle with the remaining cheese. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Place the baking parchment onto the hot oven tray and bake in the oven for 15-20 mins or until golden brown and cooked through.</div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS6d0dtADsqQ5xnoGdieVDcD7kKkTRUnB5PNLyHZ4n3YgkfDzbMoymmDZ1ADAsKr9_SDWzIsUADoekV13-bWgpOpxJ1V0wLD4-WMKzvVyq6em13K-WV3ZDuIJY8EOELskLR5KhNmHH9S3-/s4032/20201015_150251.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS6d0dtADsqQ5xnoGdieVDcD7kKkTRUnB5PNLyHZ4n3YgkfDzbMoymmDZ1ADAsKr9_SDWzIsUADoekV13-bWgpOpxJ1V0wLD4-WMKzvVyq6em13K-WV3ZDuIJY8EOELskLR5KhNmHH9S3-/w400-h300/20201015_150251.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I also made a bonus batch of Buttermere biscuits, and gave some to our hosts next door to say thank you for their hospitality. I was originally drawn to the recipe as they sounded very similar to a Shrewsbury biscuit - a crisp buttery biscuit flavoured with currants and lemon zest - which is one of may faves. When I Googled it afterwards I released the a Buttermere biscuit is a Shrewsbury biscuit. What's in a name? That which we call a cookie by any other name would smell as sweet.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqIe5Hd_B4z9FS2V-g7oae0tuR2vJKIYZDtmTxdGzGlatzyWFGY4OpEZ3Pa3ltLOccejmXXW6tkhMjZDiplcqaTlWhNg0kRWQSnI6tHNmo7sJq9Atb0fksUqW0i7-Hq1IQgUG-mC37CZXN/s4032/20201015_152337.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqIe5Hd_B4z9FS2V-g7oae0tuR2vJKIYZDtmTxdGzGlatzyWFGY4OpEZ3Pa3ltLOccejmXXW6tkhMjZDiplcqaTlWhNg0kRWQSnI6tHNmo7sJq9Atb0fksUqW0i7-Hq1IQgUG-mC37CZXN/w400-h300/20201015_152337.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">B<b>uttermere Biscuits - adapted Lakeland Cookery </b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">220g plain flour</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">110g butter</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">90g caster sugar, plus more to sprinkle on top</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">80g currants</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">½ tsp baking powder</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">1 large egg</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Grated zest of one lemon</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Rub the butter into the flour until you have fine breadcrumbs. Stir in the flour, currants, baking powder and zest.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Beat the egg in a bowl and add to the dry ingredients, cutting in with a knife. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Bring the dough together with your hands. If it's dry, add a little milk or water.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Roll out to the thickness of a pound coin and cut into circles.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Brush the tops with milk and sprinkle a little sugar over the top. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Place on lined baking sheets and bake for 15-20 minutes at 180c, or until a pale golden.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div></div>Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15971416625448882965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8542790023139677056.post-84469866660448846432020-11-14T17:09:00.001+00:002020-11-14T17:09:19.598+00:00week 41 - Hamlyn All Colour Cookbook<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYw2CCTPjfwJLKcKMiXX-symF5_qRLouHxv6PQxqCxEIXlagu_n2ZrUBHPdXDdlnw5F7L8nUZo94tfwlPe1ltjFqiYT3IVNhVc4LKsd0oLMs_yw2Zc8oxxLVomx0uIypgL_3g-pM4nSVo4/s4032/20201011_162737.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYw2CCTPjfwJLKcKMiXX-symF5_qRLouHxv6PQxqCxEIXlagu_n2ZrUBHPdXDdlnw5F7L8nUZo94tfwlPe1ltjFqiYT3IVNhVc4LKsd0oLMs_yw2Zc8oxxLVomx0uIypgL_3g-pM4nSVo4/w400-h300/20201011_162737.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After roast lamb shoulder with <a href="piesandfries.blogspot.com/2020/11/week-40-what-to-eat-now-valentine-warner.html">onion sauce </a>the previous Sunday, this week it was roast pork. And, again keeping with the theme of local ingredients, the meat - a piece of rolled loin - was bought from W Lindsay in Cockermouth. And it was roasted with apples from the one of the two apple trees in the back garden of the holiday cottage we were staying in. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_7PbyD2x8lw6-c0PWEcXOeiLXXjgcsP-cwsL8PZp8_FwDr4i0DbLWP0xaXW6AAfw_lX86MdkkU4W1vIkkOTijq1Jmugib01I74D_NlbSVMf7R8QB5RGL00xtZ6cI6KFgoWKtmELjqUQmT/s4032/20201008_113517.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_7PbyD2x8lw6-c0PWEcXOeiLXXjgcsP-cwsL8PZp8_FwDr4i0DbLWP0xaXW6AAfw_lX86MdkkU4W1vIkkOTijq1Jmugib01I74D_NlbSVMf7R8QB5RGL00xtZ6cI6KFgoWKtmELjqUQmT/w400-h300/20201008_113517.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The other apple tree was weighted down with cookers, so I also rustled up a Scandinavian apple charlotte for pudding. Like a proper domestic goddess. Served in what a subsequently realised was probably a crystal fruit bowl, found hidden in the back of a cupboard.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiLrK-t87I27tgscGt59hOg-ATv_AUoBE0ssP4lrb0zrr9MROdNE5Fltmw-xRg7KQ92alek4LI7RzYUX_k6iWZ36qXgwKZqnE87k5a0Kaeq6-i30ZD1x9GJhLYLTxyF9WCrrV9gvBtJ970/s4032/20201010_132400.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiLrK-t87I27tgscGt59hOg-ATv_AUoBE0ssP4lrb0zrr9MROdNE5Fltmw-xRg7KQ92alek4LI7RzYUX_k6iWZ36qXgwKZqnE87k5a0Kaeq6-i30ZD1x9GJhLYLTxyF9WCrrV9gvBtJ970/w400-h300/20201010_132400.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">The recipes were from the wonderful Hamlyn All Colour Cookbook, also found in the back of a cupboard. First published in 1970, it features such wonders as chicken in aspic <i>and</i> turkey in aspic. Never too much of a good thing. The most fascinating chapter, and certainly the one ltat has aged the least well, is based around pasta, rice and noodles; with recipes for noodles with a kidney sauce, with added tinned sweetcorn; cold rice salad with tongue and oranges; and , for desert, chocolate shell pudding (pasta shells in a sauce made of cocoa powder); and apple macaroni pudding (yes, apple puree with macaroni).</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9xZPYZPzJKAOPQ9n4WcobGw_-er2AqxBFxkOYhmF4TsOEYHoTepdj4Bhn8RlHTwUFgZi9et8wH1oKhyphenhyphenLM8OfB8igbifYPVOL_rgYTiKssq9aDg2CFGM7bx9sQ9eG2JImGiBsKsbCbWFzm/s1080/IMG_20201011_173711_281.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9xZPYZPzJKAOPQ9n4WcobGw_-er2AqxBFxkOYhmF4TsOEYHoTepdj4Bhn8RlHTwUFgZi9et8wH1oKhyphenhyphenLM8OfB8igbifYPVOL_rgYTiKssq9aDg2CFGM7bx9sQ9eG2JImGiBsKsbCbWFzm/w400-h400/IMG_20201011_173711_281.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div><div style="text-align: left;">I have included pictures of both dishes I cooked, just to show the glorious wonder of technicolor. Lord alone knows how they made the food look quite so radioactive, but I would hazard a guess plenty of - subsequently banned - e numbers were involved. Luckily our dishes were artificial colour-free. Still garnished with plenty of curly parsley, though.</div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWEHGEISXwn3fY2utzFkicFSWA8ruYjUGNqW_dn-bszID6AAfNIQ5xzsv2_dlQZbEvt_c4u8GWM-wbuc094WynruLcNeoyCMi4ttz7Jn01VN-bSklWRSwbsgaTVZ4LxfRoC6oJ9Xgo0xjf/s4032/20201011_153840.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWEHGEISXwn3fY2utzFkicFSWA8ruYjUGNqW_dn-bszID6AAfNIQ5xzsv2_dlQZbEvt_c4u8GWM-wbuc094WynruLcNeoyCMi4ttz7Jn01VN-bSklWRSwbsgaTVZ4LxfRoC6oJ9Xgo0xjf/w400-h300/20201011_153840.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><b><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Celebration pork - adapted from the Hamlyn All Colour Cookbook</b></div></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">2kg pork loin - rolled or on the bone</div><div style="text-align: left;">Vegetable oil</div><div style="text-align: left;">8 eating apples - cored if you'd like- I couldn't find a corer, so didn't bother</div><div style="text-align: left;">curly parsley</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Pre-heat the oven to 220c</div><div style="text-align: left;">Dry the pork skin and score, if it hasn't already been done by the butcher.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Rub a little vegetable oil in the skin, salt generously and roast for 25 minutes</div><div style="text-align: left;">turn the heat down and roast for another 40 minutes</div><div style="text-align: left;">Place the apples around the pork and cook for a further 40 minutes</div><div style="text-align: left;">If after this time you don’t have tooth-scattering crackling, carefully remove the apples, turn the heat up again and check every 5 mins until the skin has crackled.</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYHp-FbUQsqULcRf-Y4mRwpQha_-lu4qPgQ-dUNtPpZPpYL9EqKCGykZr3vYhnOGKo5sqRC8EC5brCAIwUZrvI-uHxisjEGi-orBwh2VYB_WUvvdaMTtFpQZH_w1Hpy1VTY6KOG_V6zOjI/s4032/20201011_164227.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYHp-FbUQsqULcRf-Y4mRwpQha_-lu4qPgQ-dUNtPpZPpYL9EqKCGykZr3vYhnOGKo5sqRC8EC5brCAIwUZrvI-uHxisjEGi-orBwh2VYB_WUvvdaMTtFpQZH_w1Hpy1VTY6KOG_V6zOjI/w400-h300/20201011_164227.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I served it with carrots, lashings of gravy and colcannon - shredded leeks and cabbage cooked in butter and mixed through creamy mashed potatoes. And a baked apple per person. Three if you're the Ewing.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfejAJMhbU40yJjaqV06T98MYSMmiJGsKAtRYpPVUmk74MbhjEPBfwNoSFlD-T8J9p3-HzCdoYQUi5GlFqt5js_86iUYokCkkCtz0ZYba9S21qM3lZi-Z_oNgw9PtFLU-MeH7Py77Tp19i/s4032/20201011_142027.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfejAJMhbU40yJjaqV06T98MYSMmiJGsKAtRYpPVUmk74MbhjEPBfwNoSFlD-T8J9p3-HzCdoYQUi5GlFqt5js_86iUYokCkkCtz0ZYba9S21qM3lZi-Z_oNgw9PtFLU-MeH7Py77Tp19i/w400-h300/20201011_142027.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Scandinavian Apple Charlotte - adapted from the Hamlyn All Colour Cookbook</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">2½ cups cooking apples, peeled and cored</div><div style="text-align: left;">2-3 tbsp sugar</div><div style="text-align: left;">2 tbsp butter</div><div style="text-align: left;">1-1½ tbsp brown sugar</div><div style="text-align: left;">1 cup bread crumbs</div><div style="text-align: left;">½ cup fresh whipping cream</div><div style="text-align: left;">grated chocolate to decorate</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Roughly chop the apples and place in a pan with the sugar and a tbsp of water. </div><div style="text-align: left;">Cover the pan with a lid and place it over low heat.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Cook apples until they break down into a lumpy puree, stirring occasionally. Add a splash more water if needed</div><div style="text-align: left;">Let the cooked apples cool down completely.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Gently heat butter in a frying pan over low heat.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Add the bread crumbs and mix.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Increase the heat to medium and the breadcrumbs and stir constantly till they become golden brown and are crispy. This takes longer than you think, as you want them to be very crisp, but be careful they don't burn.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Add sugar and mix well. Let the mixture cool down.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Whip the cream in a large bowl until it reaches soft peak consistency. </div><div style="text-align: left;">Place a layer of apples in the bottom of a serving bowl (or four individual glasses)</div><div style="text-align: left;">Add a layer of crumbs, followed by another layer of apple puree and then another layer of crumbs.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Top with the whipped cream and decorate with chocolate shavings.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Refrigerate for 2 to 3 hours before serving.</div></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo8It3kZ2yfZpbuwqG3TJj5YHUMWhSRI8g_zUCdXkBIUpndbIWPaN0GG2Yg00J9dpvExonMbv2vKuqZOkvwiybiLCmMpJvFH45cXaDfPDp2moeN0vUitc7Te_UDEOTL46TqLG8yniqUjAR/s4032/20201011_160849.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo8It3kZ2yfZpbuwqG3TJj5YHUMWhSRI8g_zUCdXkBIUpndbIWPaN0GG2Yg00J9dpvExonMbv2vKuqZOkvwiybiLCmMpJvFH45cXaDfPDp2moeN0vUitc7Te_UDEOTL46TqLG8yniqUjAR/w400-h300/20201011_160849.jpg" width="400" /></a></div></div></div>Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15971416625448882965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8542790023139677056.post-85570246283060794312020-11-12T23:32:00.001+00:002020-11-12T23:32:09.434+00:00week 40 What to Eat Now - Valentine Warner<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMSm-YkGWuWfbVs7F6r972iIVCevP2lKwzQZe8qON62_CU5MqCPqwb8LqQvT9xFobTlLuYjHe3Eg07pdtU_qaGLSqWT2yTb-qv8EVHW1BhRGB3zvj3mBKvvEVmKURJqRFXiq9tsrAKA30j/s4032/20201004_152032.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMSm-YkGWuWfbVs7F6r972iIVCevP2lKwzQZe8qON62_CU5MqCPqwb8LqQvT9xFobTlLuYjHe3Eg07pdtU_qaGLSqWT2yTb-qv8EVHW1BhRGB3zvj3mBKvvEVmKURJqRFXiq9tsrAKA30j/w400-h300/20201004_152032.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">You think you go on holiday to get away from routine, but somehow - after fortuitously managed to escape to Cumbria for a fortnight between lockdowns - we still ended up cooking a roast in our cottage on both the Sundays we were there. The only day of the week it feels completely normal to eat a big plate of meat and potatoes in the middle of the afternoon, even if the rest of your regular routine has gone temporarily out of the window.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC0VHQ6u_4mJ-mKoPSRiS_RA1FzQE82ZtEnWVeWTtQrjbyCUtIrPOZD1FDqrwDgGo9uXuNkwRJE-XWv2JlZbrwUGodo_Lf_j0-nfHVCs-ySR7sI3zntpZ8TfJH4JpqmqWLX3voAu_d6t7U/s4032/20201004_161335.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC0VHQ6u_4mJ-mKoPSRiS_RA1FzQE82ZtEnWVeWTtQrjbyCUtIrPOZD1FDqrwDgGo9uXuNkwRJE-XWv2JlZbrwUGodo_Lf_j0-nfHVCs-ySR7sI3zntpZ8TfJH4JpqmqWLX3voAu_d6t7U/w400-h300/20201004_161335.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div>We didn't actually eat our roast at lunch time when I was growing up, but at dinner time (in the Southern sense). As well as the appropriate accoutrements to go with what ever meat was being - yorkies, stuffing, mint sauce, apple sauce etc - there's was almost always a white sauce of some type. Either with cheese and baked with cauliflower (or broccoli, or leeks, or shredded white cabbage, which is surprisingly good) or with onion.</div><div><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: left;">The onion sauce always started as a finely chopped onion, that would be prepared on a Sunday morning and then placed in a Pyrex measuring jug and covered with water until later. A becahamel would then be whisked up and the onion added. Reassuringly comforting and, even back in the 80s, rather old fashioned. But, while it might be outmoded, it's also bloody tasty and after seeing a recipe in Valentine Warner's What to Eat Now (yes, I did take cookbooks on holiday with me) it seemed time for a revival.</div></div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxzl0ahttHQZQYWWZTxUB0kb-hCAmxjOAbPrhTxF_6uaBtSqAWuFZy9cjW-FnDX-ezyJfZkUsnXT3a8_OlWbnfOWbHLIleUnlatiaG4YUgoksn72uCuoe4AbTbuykG3sCmJjWfWhdj90HR/s4032/20201004_142210.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxzl0ahttHQZQYWWZTxUB0kb-hCAmxjOAbPrhTxF_6uaBtSqAWuFZy9cjW-FnDX-ezyJfZkUsnXT3a8_OlWbnfOWbHLIleUnlatiaG4YUgoksn72uCuoe4AbTbuykG3sCmJjWfWhdj90HR/w400-h300/20201004_142210.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Sharing in the staring role alongside the revived onion sauce was a rolled shoulder of sweet salt marsh lamb. Reared on the marshlands on the Solway Firth Estuary, a few miles from where we were staying - you could see the estuary from the bedroom window - it was purchased from Cranstons Cumbrian food hall in Penrith. We also picked up some buttercup-coloured Lancashire whey cream butter in Booths to make the sauce.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYlsP5iGJuEtGiP_ZOCJ_A2RvwxqdV9m0V7UHN_f1NEBEbFxF7Mdhj8o4TNbcCTn6bKwQjRu9S6dd2YYoTbRVNgoSkFyWYYB_G2knVcbX2vxWW6Cc3fIxt-46F7ah7S_jh9ZoU-G5JmmEe/s4032/20201004_132021.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYlsP5iGJuEtGiP_ZOCJ_A2RvwxqdV9m0V7UHN_f1NEBEbFxF7Mdhj8o4TNbcCTn6bKwQjRu9S6dd2YYoTbRVNgoSkFyWYYB_G2knVcbX2vxWW6Cc3fIxt-46F7ah7S_jh9ZoU-G5JmmEe/w300-h400/20201004_132021.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">As an added (and unknown, as I also bought my own onions) bonus the couple we let the cottage from were also our neighbours, and they invited us to help our selves to as many of the homegrown onions in the shed that we needed. I soon realised one would be more than enough...</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiESAYQ-0KTD5_QKKeHnqYSYbNt3J48y-jdeMF_CVHJ2LP3qT-qpGWn7Enq_WdT9rOQlCs9lpekL3vUg7UsEqha4Po9pTlBbqkvshJPlML1j0PfW6lP4ozWB6zkjPa0Ok7t2_U5N5QAHTQv/s4032/20201004_140414.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiESAYQ-0KTD5_QKKeHnqYSYbNt3J48y-jdeMF_CVHJ2LP3qT-qpGWn7Enq_WdT9rOQlCs9lpekL3vUg7UsEqha4Po9pTlBbqkvshJPlML1j0PfW6lP4ozWB6zkjPa0Ok7t2_U5N5QAHTQv/w400-h300/20201004_140414.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Roast lamb with roasted roots and onion sauce</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>adapted from Valentine Warner </b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">3 big sprigs of rosemary </div><div style="text-align: left;">1.75kg shoulder of lamb</div><div style="text-align: left;">4 carrots</div><div style="text-align: left;">4 parsnips</div><div style="text-align: left;">1/2 swede</div><div style="text-align: left;">olive oil</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">sauce</div><div style="text-align: left;">onions 3 medium (or one giant)</div><div style="text-align: left;">25 g butter</div><div style="text-align: left;">200ml dry white wine</div><div style="text-align: left;">1 tsp caster sugar</div><div style="text-align: left;">splash of white wine vinegar</div><div style="text-align: left;">1 tbsp plain flour </div><div style="text-align: left;">450ml milk</div><div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Heat the oven to 220c. Strip the rosemary from its stems, combining the leaves with 1 tbsp salt and a plenty of black pepper. Rub into the lamb shoulder and leave to one side.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Peel the carrots, swede and parsnips, splitting the parsnips and carrots in half and schppi ng the swede into large chunks. Put them straight into salted boiling water and parboil them 6 minutes. Toss them in a bowl in a little olive oil, black pepper and salt.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Tip the vegetables in a baking dish and and place the lamb on top. Cook it for approximately 45 minutes. Remove when the lamb is still a little pink in the middle.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Meanwhile, peel the onions, and finely dice. Melt the butter in a pan. Add the onion, season, and sweat for about 10 minutes. Pour in the wine, sprinkle in the sugar and cook until the onion is soft, about another 20 -30 minutes (this step always takes longer than you think it should).</div><div style="text-align: left;">Add the vinegar and keep on cooking until all the liquid has evaporated. The onions should not be coloured. Sprinkle over the flour and whisk in thoroughly. </div><div style="text-align: left;">Start adding the milk slowly, whisking all the time. When all the milk has been used, cook the sauce very gently for a further 10 minutes. The consistency of the sauce should be that of double cream.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Remove the lamb and put it on a board to rest, place the vegetables back in the oven and cook for a further 10 minutes if needed. Remove the vegetables and put on a platter.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Slice the lamb and lay over the vegetables. Pour any additional juices from the joint into the sauce, and pour the sauce into a jug. In Valentine's words, this is one heck of a lunch.</div><div><br /></div></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0yU19tGJP_nSeeSBnlU6h1tArldCrQgQUj-6PbdPNd7DzFMW4E5YN72WHM89p3y1S36eAWE2vpDtf0Ai0jcwnv5Bfs2YKdBqSyKQPBsQbr9vcqPKTsx8pUaDGujUoeggqJuB7XZd94gof/s4032/20201004_152727.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0yU19tGJP_nSeeSBnlU6h1tArldCrQgQUj-6PbdPNd7DzFMW4E5YN72WHM89p3y1S36eAWE2vpDtf0Ai0jcwnv5Bfs2YKdBqSyKQPBsQbr9vcqPKTsx8pUaDGujUoeggqJuB7XZd94gof/w400-h300/20201004_152727.jpg" width="400" /></a></div></div></div>Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15971416625448882965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8542790023139677056.post-37815352630897777732020-11-09T22:04:00.004+00:002020-11-09T22:04:38.068+00:00week 39 A Bird in the Hand - Diana Henry<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKPmNyNA0p2lP6BmaPl3Amvg2VC0WXodnwyopvYXbYAqd8IXdgkC94DiEpoqFbFeDY4ITj-TUNN5Fp1TbonjLnEqaiv2ZK9uRgP5Qv-V6xvmfZBL3GghkV4cSrRSNc0auiVjr1znhBIhj0/s4032/20200926_160323.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKPmNyNA0p2lP6BmaPl3Amvg2VC0WXodnwyopvYXbYAqd8IXdgkC94DiEpoqFbFeDY4ITj-TUNN5Fp1TbonjLnEqaiv2ZK9uRgP5Qv-V6xvmfZBL3GghkV4cSrRSNc0auiVjr1znhBIhj0/w400-h300/20200926_160323.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Joining the litany of average things to happen this year, my oven has now given us the ghost. Well, that's not strictly true. The fan has gone in the main oven, but the top oven - which is the size of a shoe box, and has an average temperature setting 'Hades' - is still working. Oh, and two of the four hobs don't work and two heat up slowly and ineffectively. Mirroring the general mood.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Not to be too downbeat about things though - in a short list of good things to happen this year, we now have our new gas barbecue (overlooking the fact it was mainly purchased because we couldn't go on our summer holidays), which means we can now cremate things that won't fit in the top oven while standing in the drizzle and dreaming of fairer climes.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-W4rRNybKOfmdmVaHKaM0yX5uVbmkHcXt_VXW14plcblqz-FFFPnltW1qQdPuRsLN3yvgeQfBcy7BjK5-DP4S9QY4hO4NzUGxGOL8S7ow2DECbkUZ5Gto-bdp0s7wb63ANgdXKj4lx59r/s4032/20200928_143813.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-W4rRNybKOfmdmVaHKaM0yX5uVbmkHcXt_VXW14plcblqz-FFFPnltW1qQdPuRsLN3yvgeQfBcy7BjK5-DP4S9QY4hO4NzUGxGOL8S7ow2DECbkUZ5Gto-bdp0s7wb63ANgdXKj4lx59r/w400-h300/20200928_143813.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">After making this recipe I have subsequently realised a chicken will just about squeeze into said tiny oven, but I've also realised there's nothing exciting about cooking a chicken in the comfort of your own home. Even if you own a copy of the wonderful Diana Henry's Bird in the Hand, which makes the humble chook seem fancy. No, it's far more <strike>stressful</strike> fun precariously trying to balance it upended on a tin can on a blazing hot grill.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI7MYzwxKR2KF5SXBlWrh_eZxxvONeB4yKpZdNWF-RS_wH2RLtzBs8FI4CTsdUjGj0bVgGkDnrxJEs2k-TrwgxA9XhBW5wFY7Uy5WIDT-dezZ3-3bneUEVILmTFUiJTIddX2owAZGseYR6/s4032/20200926_150257.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI7MYzwxKR2KF5SXBlWrh_eZxxvONeB4yKpZdNWF-RS_wH2RLtzBs8FI4CTsdUjGj0bVgGkDnrxJEs2k-TrwgxA9XhBW5wFY7Uy5WIDT-dezZ3-3bneUEVILmTFUiJTIddX2owAZGseYR6/w300-h400/20200926_150257.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">While the most well-know incarnation of this dish is 'beer butt chicken' - which, as the name suggests, is made with a can of lager - this version uses ginger beer. While I'm a big fan of shoehorning alcohol into pretty much anything, here I think the sugary, spicy soda works even better. And it means you can drink the beer while tending the dinner.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQC9MkGd9pki0LoNkRTDkb4AnpOt39kmJbKVyGgWo9w2P7igVmJab_e2HwuYgnXCv_a7vRdJQp27aOKZqWGZX7J8wuByXk4W77FMiErrgZ1Tk_La5VPY2a8niaDgKLdqC_Og_SHfPjHH58/s4032/20200926_151611.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQC9MkGd9pki0LoNkRTDkb4AnpOt39kmJbKVyGgWo9w2P7igVmJab_e2HwuYgnXCv_a7vRdJQp27aOKZqWGZX7J8wuByXk4W77FMiErrgZ1Tk_La5VPY2a8niaDgKLdqC_Og_SHfPjHH58/w400-h300/20200926_151611.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The original recipe sits the can directly on the grate of the grill, but I placed mine in a disposable aluminium tray, so that I could baste the bird with the tomato marinade. That way the juices at the bottom can also be mixed with some of the leftover marinade to make a spiced gravy to soak into the coconutty rice and peas. Add coleslaw for crunch and health. And maybe a dark and stormy.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibj38xmSCy4rJ7XjKPC0Mf2mPGnTvfGeu7g65ePG5uTonbMPznEydgv2WARFqz-ltWTQ3DCEHkdnPIiteGTLcwYY9UAZAMSCjPw6by4YCH7e3I41QHp5x7d9wcURdkT_fUjn9Akpioufp-/s4032/20200926_152632.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibj38xmSCy4rJ7XjKPC0Mf2mPGnTvfGeu7g65ePG5uTonbMPznEydgv2WARFqz-ltWTQ3DCEHkdnPIiteGTLcwYY9UAZAMSCjPw6by4YCH7e3I41QHp5x7d9wcURdkT_fUjn9Akpioufp-/w400-h300/20200926_152632.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIXFGLM3Jf9cuBpY9ove10a2Ekbu1O7w0pcXMtpIRr51o_YSpiVxtX224yD0ABik4_D19Apn5RDV1M_Vcsg_-_I1k5QFp1G4vXnKNfGqCspfY6jyKGZfOkQYz7n84yXQUue_EoHKBIZDif/s4032/20200926_170727.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIXFGLM3Jf9cuBpY9ove10a2Ekbu1O7w0pcXMtpIRr51o_YSpiVxtX224yD0ABik4_D19Apn5RDV1M_Vcsg_-_I1k5QFp1G4vXnKNfGqCspfY6jyKGZfOkQYz7n84yXQUue_EoHKBIZDif/w400-h300/20200926_170727.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Ginger beer can chicken - adapted from Diana Henry</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">For the tomato sauce</div><div style="text-align: left;">1 tbsp olive oil</div><div style="text-align: left;">1 onion, finely chopped</div><div style="text-align: left;">2 garlic cloves, finely chopped</div><div style="text-align: left;">400g can of tomatoes/ six ripe medium tomatoes, roughly chopped</div><div style="text-align: left;">Salt and pepper</div><div style="text-align: left;">¼ tsp soft light brown sugar</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">For the ginger beer chicken</div><div style="text-align: left;">1.8kg chicken</div><div style="text-align: left;">330ml can of ginger beer</div><div style="text-align: left;">125ml tomato sauce, preferably home-made (see above)</div><div style="text-align: left;">40g root ginger, peeled and grated</div><div style="text-align: left;">6 garlic cloves, grated</div><div style="text-align: left;">4 red chillies, finely chopped (I leave the seeds in)</div><div style="text-align: left;">1 tbsp smoked paprika</div><div style="text-align: left;">leaves from 8 sprigs of thyme</div><div style="text-align: left;">3 tbsp soft dark brown sugar</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Method</div><div style="text-align: left;">To make the tomato sauce, heat the olive oil in a saucepan and gently sweat the onion until soft but not coloured.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Add the garlic and cook for another minute. Stir in the tomatoes, 125ml of water, the seasoning and sugar. Bring to the boil, then reduce the heat to a simmer and cook for 30 minutes, making sure it doesn’t become too dry. Leave to cool, then blend.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Mix 100ml of the beer in a large bowl (keep the rest in the can, and put in the fridge), big enough to contain the chicken, with all the other marinade ingredients. Put the chicken in the bowl, too, and rub the marinade all over it inside and out. Cover loosely with foil or cling film and put in the fridge for at least four, and up to 24, hours</div><div style="text-align: left;">Prepare a lidded barbecue to the stage where the coals are hot but no longer flaming/switch on a and preheat the gas grill to 180.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Shake the marinade off the chicken Place the chicken on the opened ginger beer can so the can is in the cavity.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Place the can and chicken into a tray then onto the barbecue grill.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Close the lid and cook for about an hour basting with the juices every 15 minutes, or until the juices run clear when you pierce the thigh. If you see pink, continue to cook.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Carefully take the chicken off the can, add the juices to the remaining tomato sauce. Leave, covered lightly in foil, for 15 minutes, carve and serve.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPvc05MpMJI4ZfjMGHcLtWD7OIZv9RKLPxu_nbnKlspKee7EkwCMmWYCaLn88_aCBKWypBHvLJ-ZCyHtDkuy2fOwbHUkOApwQhlYPrYIMbJ6soTBT_y08o01X5ZdQLAgWdERK7nVivD4IV/s4032/20200928_182752.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPvc05MpMJI4ZfjMGHcLtWD7OIZv9RKLPxu_nbnKlspKee7EkwCMmWYCaLn88_aCBKWypBHvLJ-ZCyHtDkuy2fOwbHUkOApwQhlYPrYIMbJ6soTBT_y08o01X5ZdQLAgWdERK7nVivD4IV/w400-h300/20200928_182752.jpg" width="400" /></a></div></div>Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15971416625448882965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8542790023139677056.post-43347097886262420252020-10-31T22:08:00.000+00:002020-11-15T13:41:12.921+00:00week 38 The Border Cookbook - Cheryl and Bill Jamison<p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaYiWSDcTZlFmaQPIwlokf3MfhV2jSDquOw9InOGFw_nZRomfrcAuJ6YUPESwu_Q__9myuXktAY6TCm1Fgt6W4i7EEJWFVYdy4p9DCBq0hA6VT5VEemzKph_zASQ4t9l1nZN3ArpiBKPBR/s4032/20200918_184703.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaYiWSDcTZlFmaQPIwlokf3MfhV2jSDquOw9InOGFw_nZRomfrcAuJ6YUPESwu_Q__9myuXktAY6TCm1Fgt6W4i7EEJWFVYdy4p9DCBq0hA6VT5VEemzKph_zASQ4t9l1nZN3ArpiBKPBR/w400-h300/20200918_184703.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">While it feels like ancient history now (as I sit here writing this on the eve of Lockdown 2.0...) when Lockdown 1.0 was first announced, the public seemed to collectively lose their minds. Loo roll on the black market, hand soap stripped from the shops, pasta in scarce supply (unless you liked orzo, which remained, strangely unloved, on the shelves). </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: left;">Of course, I created a sourdough starter following instructions on Instagram, and the flour shortage meant we then trekked up to the Ewing's parent's to exchange white powder over the fence for slices banana bread. I also, in what I considered a moment of inspiration after all the sliced bread had already been taken, smugly picked up a packet of corn tortillas after braving the queues for the supermarket.</div><div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwi1AdQlpHTV6kFe89nUKjzVQrwhLOZwtslWiCgNONDf_3fdAJ6c8HXJhSZdxyVrws9hvgM6MK7e8cKUAfY1L3X_YNTjLQr0do52KUuj0H0tF4aGI4Pgwy1rGNv6IfG3yJUAuQEpu8S568/s4032/20200918_213937.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwi1AdQlpHTV6kFe89nUKjzVQrwhLOZwtslWiCgNONDf_3fdAJ6c8HXJhSZdxyVrws9hvgM6MK7e8cKUAfY1L3X_YNTjLQr0do52KUuj0H0tF4aGI4Pgwy1rGNv6IfG3yJUAuQEpu8S568/w400-h300/20200918_213937.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Tortillas that were bought in the early summer but, by September when their best before date loomed, still sat, slightly sweaty in their shrink wrap, at the back of the cupboard. Never one to like to see things go to waste, I looked through my cook books to see what fancy ingredients I could buy in order to save a quid on the wraps...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Enter The Border Cookbook - featuring the cuisine of the American Southwest and Northern Mexico, which I think came into my possession via a book sale after being donated the the library many moons ago, and has sat, unloved on the shelves (and for a long while in a box in a loft) ever since.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrQQHMRACnO5m0Amzv3l-y0LzvZ5KQPKDEJOwL1SRctzoosWwsb2VKb6lWVtqU_aqdwQ8adRMYT6JojW_2Xc_sE7nzlioXdHf3TiufWgPDepF01zfsZrg05BJUrAWstazcnTyKCt_p2sOf/s4032/20200910_154416.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrQQHMRACnO5m0Amzv3l-y0LzvZ5KQPKDEJOwL1SRctzoosWwsb2VKb6lWVtqU_aqdwQ8adRMYT6JojW_2Xc_sE7nzlioXdHf3TiufWgPDepF01zfsZrg05BJUrAWstazcnTyKCt_p2sOf/w400-h300/20200910_154416.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">Along with the tortillas I also had a bag of tomatillos looking for a happy ending. While only one of the tomatillo plants we tried to grow this year thrived (which also meant no fruit as, unlike their red cousins, they need a mate to pollinate) we had picked some up when we visited <a href="https://wortonkitchengarden.com/">Worton organic garden</a> for lunch the weekend before.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">With tomatillos and corn tortillas, my fate was sealed and I settled on enchiladas verde - the tortillas stuffed with shredded chicken and topped with cheese and a green salsa made from roasted tomatillos. I also added some green tomatoes from the ones that stubbornly refused to ripen in our front garden.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRTExfBuVMxiZBJ2-qC55duz-IDIcJh1kjRI0uDDmEDFhBnQhDyItWLfN-asEfB0T5Fyj3CQhKq2CMFj0Un2TCPoKsOpm9Bw2dntpbS6BsDL7Oh11h7BZJiO9FZ5z7nBk5eDvrr-DRrXiV/s4032/20200917_113327.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRTExfBuVMxiZBJ2-qC55duz-IDIcJh1kjRI0uDDmEDFhBnQhDyItWLfN-asEfB0T5Fyj3CQhKq2CMFj0Un2TCPoKsOpm9Bw2dntpbS6BsDL7Oh11h7BZJiO9FZ5z7nBk5eDvrr-DRrXiV/w400-h300/20200917_113327.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpNW6h3xrQZcTbBg5agPuhag5UQ7c3WB5qxNejA0HEpuXqcNY2fKJEa0rSr4mYzo-ng9koeOL6tdQveqo-vWXSXqMpqUtj-5NYzJzIuNYTah2Dz4c5BlOM-ws48mn1B9Du8ngV9CGQj0fg/s4032/20200918_182145.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpNW6h3xrQZcTbBg5agPuhag5UQ7c3WB5qxNejA0HEpuXqcNY2fKJEa0rSr4mYzo-ng9koeOL6tdQveqo-vWXSXqMpqUtj-5NYzJzIuNYTah2Dz4c5BlOM-ws48mn1B9Du8ngV9CGQj0fg/w400-h300/20200918_182145.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">To go alongside the enchiladas were frijoles borrachos, or drunken pinto beans. Slow cooked in dark Mexican beer (or Kentish lager, if that's what you have to hand) with onions and garlic and served with plenty of fresh coriander and a spritz of lime.</div></div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaTaYXc0GxDNQ15ntFe2o-94FG9dMbpdafGEm18McRmBVJMEaBtsOWm3ifbpJQ_xb0-jz6G0-KobJuIag9hlhRdsKtGEHqOs5CfDCikdAvlPMKP3BS8Te8c02QKht0QkOZzGrISqbsazeV/s4032/20200910_182214.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaTaYXc0GxDNQ15ntFe2o-94FG9dMbpdafGEm18McRmBVJMEaBtsOWm3ifbpJQ_xb0-jz6G0-KobJuIag9hlhRdsKtGEHqOs5CfDCikdAvlPMKP3BS8Te8c02QKht0QkOZzGrISqbsazeV/w400-h300/20200910_182214.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzbwovKZibHZ3YDni-lp5tBbLoSkUo9dwnV7wCEJshqYRsfC08QPtE-yGON6F3qXfWTXwygZLvD5mpQe26DApmIJ0X2BJQBchnd9V0hRmtwjC_JW1acsasUSbiSZviXTczzz9d7PSY1svC/s4032/20200918_164540.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzbwovKZibHZ3YDni-lp5tBbLoSkUo9dwnV7wCEJshqYRsfC08QPtE-yGON6F3qXfWTXwygZLvD5mpQe26DApmIJ0X2BJQBchnd9V0hRmtwjC_JW1acsasUSbiSZviXTczzz9d7PSY1svC/w400-h300/20200918_164540.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">And also a simple, but perfect bowl of tomato rice, made of long grain rice cooked down with more Worton fruit, this time perfectly ripe ox heart tomatoes. Packed full of umami from their high glutamic acid content that makes my gums tingle when I think back to it. And that's a wrap.</div></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7MRTX1BTk-z6S3g8mI_7lohmlUeqR2Nd33UnCnEdPcwfChLgXKsWfMRaZtBKayeBG4LsI2fzp8sI1G-e7mnm0A-sNFbs1uhmuKeq6iiOwy6JLvHmRPxF5MIfuGFVIuJmxx8S3-_EflE36/s4032/20200918_181735.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7MRTX1BTk-z6S3g8mI_7lohmlUeqR2Nd33UnCnEdPcwfChLgXKsWfMRaZtBKayeBG4LsI2fzp8sI1G-e7mnm0A-sNFbs1uhmuKeq6iiOwy6JLvHmRPxF5MIfuGFVIuJmxx8S3-_EflE36/w400-h300/20200918_181735.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Enchilada Verdes (adapted from the Border Cookbook)</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">One small cooked chicken, (or two/three chicken breasts) skin and bones removed and meat shredded (rotisserie chicken from the supermarket is perfect for this)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">tomatillo salsa (see below)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">250ml creme fraiche (plus more to serve)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">8 corn tortillas</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">1 onion, roughly chopped</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">150g cheddar cheese, grated</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">coriander, to serve</div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">salsa</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">500g tomatillos (or green tomatoes), husked and rinsed</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">1 fresh jalapeño pepper/green chilli</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">2 garlic cloves</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">1/4 medium onion, chopped</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">large handful of coriander</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">1/2 lime, squeezed</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">sea salt</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Preheat the grill. Place the tomatillos, jalapeño and garlic on baking tray. Grill, turning occasionally, until they’re blackened in spots, 10 to 15 minutes.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Let tomatillos, peppers, and garlic cool.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">When they are cool enough to handle add ,along with onion, coriander and lime juice, to a food processor/Nutribullet. Pulse until the salsa is mostly smooth and no big chunks of tomatillo remain, scraping down the sides as necessary. Season to taste</div></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Preheat the oven to 180. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">In a shallow bowl or dish, combine the sauce with the creme fraiche.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Take a large baking dish and spread a thin layer of the green sauce on the base</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Top a tortilla with a small handful of chicken, a couple of teaspoons of onion, and about a tablespoon of cheese. Roll up the tortilla snug but not tight. Transfer the enchilada to the baking dish. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Repeat with the rest of the tortillas and filling. Top the enchiladas with any remaining onion and pour the sauce evenly over them. Scatter the rest of the cheese over the sauce.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Bake the enchiladas for 15 to 18 minutes, until they are heated through and the sauce is bubbly. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Top with more cold creme fraiche and chopped coriander to serve.</div></div></div></div>Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15971416625448882965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8542790023139677056.post-79298783970893980132020-10-29T20:36:00.001+00:002020-10-29T20:36:26.893+00:00week 37 Everyday Harumi<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwU-Qf2F4ZNIdEyQdWH-bqMFK3j6F9KPXIQhRa5W_A0dO_ZZPVDFOSYvxy5YORZXXLwNlMlen8yl9Bv0z-Ana8Ni2WKvhsvQcMld9lva6Dhm7OekmeAfYH6EIVTq5-zqsS0ll6BpJPULt0/s4032/20200914_190717.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwU-Qf2F4ZNIdEyQdWH-bqMFK3j6F9KPXIQhRa5W_A0dO_ZZPVDFOSYvxy5YORZXXLwNlMlen8yl9Bv0z-Ana8Ni2WKvhsvQcMld9lva6Dhm7OekmeAfYH6EIVTq5-zqsS0ll6BpJPULt0/w400-h300/20200914_190717.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">When the Ewing and I were both penniless library workers and travelled to Japan, I was preparing myself for it to be so ruinously expensive that we would have to subsist on packet noodles; strange flavoured maize snacks from 7 Eleven; and odd drinks, randomly chosen from glowing vending machines down dark alleyways.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">As it turned out you could spend your monthly salary on sushi in the basement of a subway station, or buy fifty quid melons - displayed in perspex boxes, nestled in silver tissue paper - but the vast majority of meals were as cheap as at home, and often cheaper. While the huge range of places to eat - from tiny stand up counters to cavernous food halls - blew our tiny minds.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-p98XxECdqH64Yn0F4QMtN5kAmmZ5E1CMM6ve2FL09RY6H_3Nbq8lu3TC8frBGhQsLne1t3Y88-X1dx3JuasKb7-nW1hoo4LRswvydM7JVSVh8ssv3iEA1Zjr_7EIbrQW6a1nE244h9YM/s4032/20200915_103311.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-p98XxECdqH64Yn0F4QMtN5kAmmZ5E1CMM6ve2FL09RY6H_3Nbq8lu3TC8frBGhQsLne1t3Y88-X1dx3JuasKb7-nW1hoo4LRswvydM7JVSVh8ssv3iEA1Zjr_7EIbrQW6a1nE244h9YM/w400-h300/20200915_103311.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">One of my favourite nights, which also turned out to be one of the most expensive, was the night we spend in Omoide Yokocho (which translates as the romantic-sounding Memory Alley, AKA Piss Alley, from the post-war days when shady characters would congregate here). A Tokyo landmark by Shinjuku Station, it features a warren of smoke-filled lanes filled with izakaya; small bars where people drink cold beer accompanied by various skewers grilled over charcoal.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: left;">These tiny little, salty, smoky nibbles soon racked up into a sizeable bill (no doubt aided by the beverages). So I reasoned, how hard could it be to create my own at home? Luckily I had my trusty ex-library copy of Everyday Harumi; written by celebrated homemaker TV personality Harumi Kurihara, who has been described as Japan's answer to Martha Stewart. Although I see her more as a Delia, minus the striped Canaries scarf.</div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJLHFpWVwIiFB7M6wqleeX9xzgPbLlqk960APMCArYCDV0Gc95-LJLOSJPUO9OnpzlQBE5_0juhUd9_PCIMgQ7CQchiNfU9fByEbbGp1lNEz6riGc8p9p1JQBcNvvRTQ5NOtMjzEDyZCKX/s4032/20200914_181527.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJLHFpWVwIiFB7M6wqleeX9xzgPbLlqk960APMCArYCDV0Gc95-LJLOSJPUO9OnpzlQBE5_0juhUd9_PCIMgQ7CQchiNfU9fByEbbGp1lNEz6riGc8p9p1JQBcNvvRTQ5NOtMjzEDyZCKX/w400-h300/20200914_181527.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">Anyway, onto the skewers. I decided to make the ever-dependable yakitori - chicken thigh and Japanese leek, or spring onion, glazed with a tare of teriyaki sauce. And the less-known but equally great tsukune - meatballs, in this case beef and pork, which are also glazed with a teriyaki sauce. </div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">After all chopping, soaking, threading and grilling (sadly in my top oven in the absence of charcoal). Not to mention the sauce, which demanded the reduction of a whole bottle of soy and a whole bottle of mirin - although it did make plenty of leftovers which I have used to anoint all sorts of other things, and even just to eat with teaspoon when slightly drunk - so I can now understand why they aren't the cheapest way to eat. However, the splinters were all worth it.</div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhztk6LSU0pxwrzroFj_ikCf2A6S3PuukcwFqjuIJm2l5MIewa5gqvNqiXhWSz9p7QUJ1zYoZL_9yhYlLVzzpF3_ziLpglmTS8tXoJnK0jG79j-ObJKqEWrM5PYnBlts7VH27Tpj_FJAE0/s4032/20200914_173842.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhztk6LSU0pxwrzroFj_ikCf2A6S3PuukcwFqjuIJm2l5MIewa5gqvNqiXhWSz9p7QUJ1zYoZL_9yhYlLVzzpF3_ziLpglmTS8tXoJnK0jG79j-ObJKqEWrM5PYnBlts7VH27Tpj_FJAE0/w300-h400/20200914_173842.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Tsukune (adapted from Harumi Cooks)</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">1 small onion peeled and finely diced</div><div style="text-align: left;">1 stalk celery, finely diced</div><div style="text-align: left;">300g mince - beef or pork (I used a mixture), but chicken works well, too</div><div style="text-align: left;">1 medium egg</div><div style="text-align: left;">1 tbs plain flour</div><div style="text-align: left;">5-6 fresh basil leaves (optional)</div><div style="text-align: left;">Sunflower or vegetable oil-for frying</div><div style="text-align: left;">Shichimi togarashi or chili pepper</div><div style="text-align: left;">Lemon wedges to serve </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: left;">Teriayaki sauce</div><div style="text-align: left;">250ml soy sauce</div><div style="text-align: left;">250ml mirin</div><div style="text-align: left;">4 tbsp caster sugar</div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: left;">To make the teriyaki sauce: combine the soy sauce, mirin, and sugar in a pan and slowly bring to a boil. Turn the heat down low and simmer for about 20 minutes, until it has thickened. Skim the surface if necessary and set aside.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Preheat the grill/barbecue.</div><div style="text-align: left;">To make the tsukune; put all the ingredients, except the basil, into a bowl and knead to combine well. Shred the basil, if using, and add to the mixture. It is important to add the basil at the last minute so it keeps its colour</div></div><div><div style="text-align: left;">Shape the mixture into rounds about 5 inches in diameter, and flatten slightly. Thread on to small skewers, two or three per skewer.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Grill until cooked through, turning halfway and brushing with a little teriyaki sauce.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Glaze with more sauce and sprinkle with shichimi togarashi/chili pepper flakes.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Serve with lemon wedges on the side.</div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipp3BonjiwHxGgE_fLSzJ6joogPVad4kxH06knadFLw6XVs5ylXsJm7v_OucxKUre2fhFUJv9p-hNgBoYIdrGIDmCUMvYLLeyRo7ms0CnKnszhO26_lqj6ZLx1gGIrBpwQHtAb0Y2a9jkz/s4032/20200914_191258.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipp3BonjiwHxGgE_fLSzJ6joogPVad4kxH06knadFLw6XVs5ylXsJm7v_OucxKUre2fhFUJv9p-hNgBoYIdrGIDmCUMvYLLeyRo7ms0CnKnszhO26_lqj6ZLx1gGIrBpwQHtAb0Y2a9jkz/w400-h300/20200914_191258.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p></p></div></div>Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15971416625448882965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8542790023139677056.post-13358880507160079092020-10-19T20:59:00.001+01:002020-10-19T20:59:44.459+01:00week 36 - Simon Hopkinson Cooks<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguTmuM3ewWaEwXWdjheZt5ihAVuu2hVxydZrUS6HKPoIOSkw0i2vrbdia8Suc20E_R-S751Sqmlnj51KnL4pYAyIniIiE4d-LM_H31TgUEhkEaYcr6d20grcWxFVczN9wufMPxnG5qBvYt/s4032/20200904_132911.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguTmuM3ewWaEwXWdjheZt5ihAVuu2hVxydZrUS6HKPoIOSkw0i2vrbdia8Suc20E_R-S751Sqmlnj51KnL4pYAyIniIiE4d-LM_H31TgUEhkEaYcr6d20grcWxFVczN9wufMPxnG5qBvYt/w400-h300/20200904_132911.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Once upon a time lamb shanks, like pork belly, oxtail and oysters - the latter famously ending up in Victorian pies to bulk them out (although considering they also drank beer as the water was so polluted, I'd probably stick to meat and veg) - were unloved wobbly bits now one wanted and priced accordingly. Now, thanks to gastropubs and TV chefs (and slightly mediocre food bloggers) these gnarly cuts are no longer the bargain they once were. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwpsejnJAMdpYYKJYXzUKVAYHGxKbwzk_M495rCUwXnt8T1KlD5pquut05uPABM5_IjMM_jYTVsLjGuu_yonmTXOElUD-DYo1CM97tffAJhTVIVWS3OCPNmhwWLG5LURZsUyDZ4r0CU-4w/s4032/20200904_093119.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwpsejnJAMdpYYKJYXzUKVAYHGxKbwzk_M495rCUwXnt8T1KlD5pquut05uPABM5_IjMM_jYTVsLjGuu_yonmTXOElUD-DYo1CM97tffAJhTVIVWS3OCPNmhwWLG5LURZsUyDZ4r0CU-4w/w400-h300/20200904_093119.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">But what is better than being served up your very own personal hunk of meat on the bone? With soft and tender meat that should shed apart like shoulder, but also with something to gnaw on too. They also remind me of Grandad, as when we take him out for lunch and he sees a lamb shank on the menu, he always orders it, as 'it feels like a treat'.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And so when I saw Welsh leg shanks on offer I thought of lovely Grandad (who I haven't been able to see this year because of the small matter of a global pandemic and all that) and decided to buy a couple as a treat to raise our spirits from what sometimes feels like the unrelenting doom of 2020.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBc0Uz0LN72AjmrnyY8ltnVVupeYUv2Pfy1gQcW1CPu22VlVQSoE8tsgAZteb-tU7UM4fjq4SIRgij8NtjRuAaEP4nMIrz5H_xsEtvB-GBOkGqLVcAk0yx6KhHUlQ7_JX7K_Gh2X6pDdWF/s4032/20200904_102935.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBc0Uz0LN72AjmrnyY8ltnVVupeYUv2Pfy1gQcW1CPu22VlVQSoE8tsgAZteb-tU7UM4fjq4SIRgij8NtjRuAaEP4nMIrz5H_xsEtvB-GBOkGqLVcAk0yx6KhHUlQ7_JX7K_Gh2X6pDdWF/w400-h300/20200904_102935.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The recipe I chose to celebrate the shanks was from Simon Hopkinson Cooks; a cheering kind of cookbook that features a dozen carefully curated menus, each starting with aperitifs and nibbles and ending with puddings and digestifs. As all good meals should.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Sadly, there was just the Ewing and I to partake of this feast, so I skipped the starters and jumped straight in at the deep end with his recipe for gloriously sticky, slow-cooked shanks, braised with white beans and smoked bacon, followed by a baked vanilla custard (for four, but poured into two ramekins). I have faint memories that I also said I wasn't drinking, but the bottle of rioja in the pictures suggested something changed my mind....</div></div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn1ZwyrUUeXkyQRiORHqgx1a0ZxC1TH_9o4-opbebkoREZFNyQ_wGN3r_aG646QBQDHKWj8m1_gI_KuaE6DB632GRT0K9l80qesuLhybecrWx2dHoaR8DR0X_Fml26LjlqdvZOONzWihBn/s4032/20200906_180858.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn1ZwyrUUeXkyQRiORHqgx1a0ZxC1TH_9o4-opbebkoREZFNyQ_wGN3r_aG646QBQDHKWj8m1_gI_KuaE6DB632GRT0K9l80qesuLhybecrWx2dHoaR8DR0X_Fml26LjlqdvZOONzWihBn/w300-h400/20200906_180858.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Lamb shanks with white beans </b></div><div style="text-align: left;">(adapted from Simon Hopkinson)</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">4 lamb shanks (I used two and had the leftover beans and bacon for supper the next day)</div><div style="text-align: left;">500g white beans (I used haricot, as I couldn't find cannellini)</div><div style="text-align: left;">300g bacon, in a piece, cut into chunks (I ended up using a small joint of smoked gammon)</div><div style="text-align: left;">2 bay leaves</div><div style="text-align: left;">2 carrots, peeled and chopped into small chunks</div><div style="text-align: left;">400g cherry tomatoes</div><div style="text-align: left;">4 cloves garlic</div><div style="text-align: left;">2 onions, peeled and diced</div><div style="text-align: left;">3 sprigs thyme</div><div style="text-align: left;">1 tbsp olive oil</div><div style="text-align: left;">350mls chicken, vegetable or lamb stock</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: left;">Put the beans in a roomy pan and cover with water (no salt) to at least 4cm above the beans. Bring up to a boil, boil for ten minutes, switch off the heat and leave in the water for 1 hour.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Whiz the tomatoes in a liquidiser together with the garlic, thyme leaves and process until smooth. Now put this mixture to one side.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Using a large, preferably cast-iron pot heat the olive oil over a moderate flame. Tip in the bacon and allow to fry quietly for about 5 minutes lift out the bacon and reserve on a large plate.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Season the shanks and slowly fry in the bacon fat until all surfaces are nicely browned. Lift out and place alongside the bacon. </div><div style="text-align: left;">Add the onions and carrots to the pot and sweat for about 10 minutes, or until lightly coloured. Add the tomato mixture, bring up to a bubble and allow to cook for a further 10 minutes. Stir in the bay leaves and stock before adding the bacon and lamb shanks and push under the liquid to cover them. Bring up to a simmer.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Preheat the oven to 150°C. Drain the beans, rinse well and return them to the pot with the lamb.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Stir together well, thoroughly distributing the beans among the meat and place pot into the oven. Cook for a further 2 -3hours, uncovered, until both beans and lamb are tender and the liquid surrounding them has somewhat reduced, having by now formed a burnished look to the surface of the stew. Remove from the oven, and serve with green veg, to contract the red wine.</div></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs_0oYNbK78bUVv3iHcrg5DoY0c9jCdyhx1wf8dFIAdGGqZZ8YGVTYKLyVfjy7_nbfUGIQNQxk_OGeahPBMhZzfmMoSu7TTmVPAGBqvj5cTiR3hBCti52ImdTb9t0hkhrb6YT5RYxXov5F/s4032/20200903_132217.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs_0oYNbK78bUVv3iHcrg5DoY0c9jCdyhx1wf8dFIAdGGqZZ8YGVTYKLyVfjy7_nbfUGIQNQxk_OGeahPBMhZzfmMoSu7TTmVPAGBqvj5cTiR3hBCti52ImdTb9t0hkhrb6YT5RYxXov5F/w400-h300/20200903_132217.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">I love custard so much that a family member bought me a pot of creme anglais instead of flowers when she came to visit once. I ate it cold with a spoon. That said, I'm not as fond of custard tarts or creme brulee and I only decided to make these vanilla custard pots as I lacked the motivation to make pancakes or pastry, I half a carton of cream hanging around in the fridge.</div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvy0XOwjq5fpOwkfQ6a30AuGIuP6HeL1sqC7xn_geje7uyvm5DyOK74hh6CxYvORXCokN6O4p1DuI9YG6e2SSx5CJ_tOxYTI0rcUi4ClzvIxFUGkx4_pAsBI_pfx_Ab8saWyu4J_dRJ_wA/s4032/20200903_132912.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvy0XOwjq5fpOwkfQ6a30AuGIuP6HeL1sqC7xn_geje7uyvm5DyOK74hh6CxYvORXCokN6O4p1DuI9YG6e2SSx5CJ_tOxYTI0rcUi4ClzvIxFUGkx4_pAsBI_pfx_Ab8saWyu4J_dRJ_wA/w400-h300/20200903_132912.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">I have to say that not only were they deceptively simple, but they were also bloody delicious. In fact so good, we actually ate them as an afternoon snack before our dinner. Well, working at home has to have some perks. Hopkinson uses single cream and makes his custards in small ramekins but, being greedy, I think you could add a little milk too, bunging in an extra yolk to thicken, and make a larger portion that is slightly less rich but no less wobbly.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyLOY40rcSla-sLc12c64JBMoM20fEiHs8DrFuR4mfwtKHVcKwtDQv34sYVdHPUbnfF6reHOzJK7cOfx8C75iNp6H8dsoLHXg6n4oxD0flSzS4NxH2dEGI_xJqbq6s4YrkOmbStzgZx_nI/s4032/20200903_141638.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyLOY40rcSla-sLc12c64JBMoM20fEiHs8DrFuR4mfwtKHVcKwtDQv34sYVdHPUbnfF6reHOzJK7cOfx8C75iNp6H8dsoLHXg6n4oxD0flSzS4NxH2dEGI_xJqbq6s4YrkOmbStzgZx_nI/w400-h300/20200903_141638.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Baked vanilla custard pots</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">300ml single cream</div><div style="text-align: left;">tiny pinch of salt</div><div style="text-align: left;">1 tsp vanilla paste</div><div style="text-align: left;">3 egg yolks</div><div style="text-align: left;">50g cater sugar</div><div style="text-align: left;">freshly grated nutmeg</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Preheat the oven to 170C.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Whisk the egg yolks in a bowl together with the sugar, vanilla paste and salt until thick, pale and creamy. Add the cream mixture to the egg yolks, and whisk until well blended. </div><div style="text-align: left;">Pour the mixture into a small pan and cook over a low heat, stirring constantly with a wooden spoon, for five minutes or until the mixture has thickened slightly.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Carefully pour into four small ramekins (about 100-120ml each) - or two larger ones, if you're greedy like me, and grate a little nutmeg over each pot. </div><div style="text-align: left;">Place the ramekins in a deep roasting dish and pour tap-hot water around them so it comes up three quarters of the way up the sides of the ramekins.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Carefully slide it into the oven and bake for around 25 minutes, or until just set; give them a little shake; they will wobble nicely they are done.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Remove from the oven, take the custards from the tin and allow them to cool for 20 minutes. Put into the the fridge for at least two hours to chill thoroughly. Eat on the day of making (not a difficult instruction to follow).</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMaVtA2xUJe93waCFG42381vxYzQ-nGcM_uD7KqtQXnpYYW3UjUs9-n-YIcy81SHxFw_0kYRClT4jX3DDFKdxKqAYv1sDc2Vcbr1PFnoK9XvXl6_3abosoeG1EpmOWIY8leJD_Lir7Ae2t/s4032/20200903_154916.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMaVtA2xUJe93waCFG42381vxYzQ-nGcM_uD7KqtQXnpYYW3UjUs9-n-YIcy81SHxFw_0kYRClT4jX3DDFKdxKqAYv1sDc2Vcbr1PFnoK9XvXl6_3abosoeG1EpmOWIY8leJD_Lir7Ae2t/w300-h400/20200903_154916.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><p></p></div>Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15971416625448882965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8542790023139677056.post-80035952235444706352020-10-10T15:04:00.001+01:002020-10-10T15:04:22.577+01:00week 35 - Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat - Samin Nosrat<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5MewvOfx3xKYmTmaWvGxzuLgDoDhvBSSPBq6uQpMEOZwoplsU3SfTHnjGhvQLDT-GHgwMjUHiL-fNPqpJY1341Vh9upV82Yjp1h5Vb0oAJyIYBqVU4CwgyBs9CV2BsbjlbyC3kw-CcHak/w400-h300/20200827_180531.jpg" width="400" /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">One of the things I was most looking forward to about #cookbookchallenge was creating fancy confections with involved instructions, precise weighing and measuring and the kind of accuracy that normally I have no time for when rustling up dinner. In my mind I imagined embarking on Bake Off-style technical challenges and Food Network-style multi-tiered cakes that resemble anything that isn't actually a cake. But in reality I'm just not patient enough to be a master baker. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I mean, in a plot twist I could announce that this pie was actually a cake that looked like a pie, but it was definitely a pie. Made from pastry weighed and measured and rolled out by my own hot little hands. And, although it's pretty rustic, I'm also pretty proud of it.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSewgwPzE-W8wjm6v6EoaD3WGgn5UiD2sEp81pP-lnRGnHIRIJZ-ZOLpO43JkSdnKjHtEK-z8nIETaortlgMw6-A5GufhdRldBkrFFROJKg2vcJdMVl30FBvd6T4T74aUrb0UuPZRojwpi/s4032/20200828_142903.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSewgwPzE-W8wjm6v6EoaD3WGgn5UiD2sEp81pP-lnRGnHIRIJZ-ZOLpO43JkSdnKjHtEK-z8nIETaortlgMw6-A5GufhdRldBkrFFROJKg2vcJdMVl30FBvd6T4T74aUrb0UuPZRojwpi/w400-h300/20200828_142903.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The recipe comes from Samin Nosrat's cult Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat, which also gave us the lockdown hit recipe of the summer; buttermilk brined chicken - I use use semi-skimmed milk with a tablespoon of white vinegar or lemon juice - which sounds like a faff but is actually dead easy if you remember to do it the night before (or even the same morning) and gives the chicken the most incredible bronzed carapace and tender flesh.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvePTlWQc_T2u9t4u1CV3khfQDHp6bBBQG2zjk9XWgXciPAOMlpSSB1B_JkVMeCA77wRZ-35FlrdKi4sD6s7NY_hrPH7-FjHoprk10BomcoN3ZJrjla3mCxIAQQpsCWJOLLUl747woicrJ/s4032/20200820_124306.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvePTlWQc_T2u9t4u1CV3khfQDHp6bBBQG2zjk9XWgXciPAOMlpSSB1B_JkVMeCA77wRZ-35FlrdKi4sD6s7NY_hrPH7-FjHoprk10BomcoN3ZJrjla3mCxIAQQpsCWJOLLUl747woicrJ/w300-h400/20200820_124306.jpg" width="300" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6tkMGvKYYzvQfEjoQo1bhnNP_B8AePhCXfg4vrnhOz8sGGX68g1cjpqsBbSY463nVL52fN3g6xtSe__D6y4ZWFfD1nlJyMHJDXmYWF3IQyiCIipaOCd8LFcGROaznPsc7pkI9_ZTYLTSi/s4032/20200827_150249.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6tkMGvKYYzvQfEjoQo1bhnNP_B8AePhCXfg4vrnhOz8sGGX68g1cjpqsBbSY463nVL52fN3g6xtSe__D6y4ZWFfD1nlJyMHJDXmYWF3IQyiCIipaOCd8LFcGROaznPsc7pkI9_ZTYLTSi/w400-h300/20200827_150249.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">Anyway, back to my pie. As well as pastry you need a filling, and what is more classic than good old apple. Our apples were from the allotment, picked by the Ewing's fair hand. For a pie, I think you need an eater (so it doesn't disintegrate too much when baked). Something tart with a bit of crunch is perfect. Good old granny Smiths work, as do Braeburns or a Pink Lady.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL6dOtBi9tg-pvppmakHkNwgdu0QLYCXndNn78EbWspeouKkI9AC3oXS3HMRsPP5zo56GL-arpRt5YFriODxfAJmnGnrJfSaNrtukC7qYuDqa6-fNH-TAxzbC1GbkV5cW0rgH-FsJelA2H/s4032/20200817_113118.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL6dOtBi9tg-pvppmakHkNwgdu0QLYCXndNn78EbWspeouKkI9AC3oXS3HMRsPP5zo56GL-arpRt5YFriODxfAJmnGnrJfSaNrtukC7qYuDqa6-fNH-TAxzbC1GbkV5cW0rgH-FsJelA2H/w300-h400/20200817_113118.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I also added a handful of blackberries, as they are were also growing rampant at the allotment when we went to pick the apples. Although I think these are some sort of hybrid - maybe a loganberry? - as they are twice the size of the wild blackberries in our front garden.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm5qZ6IhVyPKYld4lO3-85nEimA6bEs7XwKNsKZJxAGmbgw-iLACqPkGWR8JTZ0_cwXPAC9POgt8ntSoV-Rybc8IYA4rXpkNfZmXZK4-R89Kt1JK12001ujijwbYxdfA19Jegpn82-Au9f/s4032/20200827_155335.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm5qZ6IhVyPKYld4lO3-85nEimA6bEs7XwKNsKZJxAGmbgw-iLACqPkGWR8JTZ0_cwXPAC9POgt8ntSoV-Rybc8IYA4rXpkNfZmXZK4-R89Kt1JK12001ujijwbYxdfA19Jegpn82-Au9f/w400-h300/20200827_155335.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: left;">And now to the pastry; my bête noire, Although, in all honesty, if I can make decent pastry it must be pretty simple. The key things seem to be get everything cold before you start; don't over-mix - you don't want gluten development as the pastry will be tough, a little vinegar also helps with this - don't add to much water to the dough; and allow the dough to rest before rolling it out. Seeing chunks of butter in the dough is also good, as the water in the butter creates stream when you put the pie in the oven, which expands into little air pockets and creates lovely crisp layers.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: left;">While the recipe included instructions to freeze the mixer bowl and the processor blades, as well as the flour and butter chunks, and then to freeze the whole pie again before baking, I skipped all that. You'd be pushed to fit get another pea in our freezer, and it all turned out fine. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij8ufeHacqdLFba8fbGK6A2nM5dGqKq9WFpiHSWytX1Lzntw9nsORcp6I8CyuZ11MoyjNLtQsSJro5oYvgEqQXWwoZ13BpA47iA45Sf4W3Lhuix9Hbb2x0yR6mJhsPzadtovNxdNG1KG_B/s4032/20200827_160045.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij8ufeHacqdLFba8fbGK6A2nM5dGqKq9WFpiHSWytX1Lzntw9nsORcp6I8CyuZ11MoyjNLtQsSJro5oYvgEqQXWwoZ13BpA47iA45Sf4W3Lhuix9Hbb2x0yR6mJhsPzadtovNxdNG1KG_B/w400-h300/20200827_160045.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Classic Apple (and Blackberry) Pie with All Butter Pie Dough</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">300g plain flour</div><div style="text-align: left;">220g butter, cut into chunks - fridge cold or put in the freezer 30 minutes before you start</div><div style="text-align: left;">1 pinch salt</div><div style="text-align: left;">1 tsp cider vinegar</div><div style="text-align: left;">1 tbsp caster sugar</div><div style="text-align: left;">1/2 cup iced water</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: left;">7 medium eating apples, peeled cored and sliced</div><div style="text-align: left;">handful blackberries, washed and dried</div></div><div style="text-align: left;">half a lemon</div><div style="text-align: left;">2 tbsp light brown sugar</div><div><div style="text-align: left;">1/4 tsp ground allspice</div><div style="text-align: left;">1/2 tsp ground cinnamon</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">2 tbsp double cream (or one egg, beaten)</div></div><div style="text-align: left;">1 tbsp demerara sugar</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Add salt and sugar to the flour, add to the bowl of a food processor. Add butter, a few chunks at a time, and pulse until the butter is in pea-sized pieces.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Add the vinegar and then slowly add the water, pulsing until the mixture just comes together, you might not need it all.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Tip the dough onto a large piece of cling film and bring the sides of the cling film up, squeezing together gently, to shape the dough into ball. Cut the dough into half and flatten each half into a disc. Re-wrap each disc in cling film and place the dough in the fridge, preferably overnight but for at least an hour, to rest.</div><div style="text-align: left;">When you are ready to make the pie, preheat the oven, and a metal baking sheet at 220 C</div><div style="text-align: left;">Place the apples, berries, lemon juice, brown sugar, cinnamon and allspice in a bowl and stir carefully to mix.</div><div><div style="text-align: left;">Flour a surface and a rolling pin. Unwrap one disc of dough. Roll dough to about the thickness of a pound coin. Use this to line a pie tin – 20-22cm round and 4cm deep – leaving a slight overhang. </div><div style="text-align: left;">Roll out the second disc to about the same thickness, ready to lay on top of the filling.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Tip the fruit mixture into the pie dish, leaving behind any liquid, which may make the base soggy. Brush a little water around the pastry rim and lay the pastry lid over the apples. Crimp edges or press down with a fork to seal.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Brush the pastry with the cream or beaten egg, and sprinkle over the sugar.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Place the pie on the baking sheet and cook for 15 minutes</div></div><div style="text-align: left;">Turn the oven down to 200c and cook for another -15/20 minutes</div><div style="text-align: left;">Turn the oven down again to 180c for another 30 - 40 mins (cover the top with foil if it is becoming too brown)</div><div style="text-align: left;">Allow to stand for half an hour before cutting (the most difficult part of the whole recipe) and serve warm or cold with lots of double cream.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ-JxOl-JCsfpM4cSzq71puPDku5AM6r_VlFJAt5S-w2gY4LVPQnTwK7RLMBYK9S6NVwAEdJ7oNtAHK-HteiKGix0_U8KQLVU5dl4yNcRmhifCvtnSO7Fp7_o3IJ8UGmDpaIw5RhIDoy6z/s4032/20200828_092701.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ-JxOl-JCsfpM4cSzq71puPDku5AM6r_VlFJAt5S-w2gY4LVPQnTwK7RLMBYK9S6NVwAEdJ7oNtAHK-HteiKGix0_U8KQLVU5dl4yNcRmhifCvtnSO7Fp7_o3IJ8UGmDpaIw5RhIDoy6z/w400-h300/20200828_092701.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br />Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15971416625448882965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8542790023139677056.post-82619027091059639992020-10-09T16:58:00.002+01:002020-10-09T16:58:54.395+01:00week 34 - Nigella Bites - Nigella Lawson<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheqihxyTkxTDG-grd24kLdBlitziQnnpLjfbyO1kNypfyKjERmqs8g2A-B6vAAeLRNIdAHgXqjBUHWjfJt1x8bUOzxQ0az-ptAzhPK3U_KMPOjX9lUbuNYbL0XAN_kkagvxBmKjHphvDag/s3840/20200824_184104.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="3840" height="315" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheqihxyTkxTDG-grd24kLdBlitziQnnpLjfbyO1kNypfyKjERmqs8g2A-B6vAAeLRNIdAHgXqjBUHWjfJt1x8bUOzxQ0az-ptAzhPK3U_KMPOjX9lUbuNYbL0XAN_kkagvxBmKjHphvDag/w400-h315/20200824_184104.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Despite my 'normal' working life ceasing on a grey Thursday at the end of March, work has continued at a manic pace, unabated by global events. If anything, things have been even busier than normal. And while I feel fortunate to still be working, I was also very much in need of having the first proper break from my makeshift desk at my dining room table since this whole global pandemic thing started.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw75jOMBy62pzfr-hXwHp6FEr_F7WQ-8gHE3Z1-Qfjp3uU0LVgtETFBwb8TWS64kMzfGjG2nkfVc08_yL6L_s_zIwnbBuYijEC8tmEp8WKSO-OkBwVKiFmi079G1Th7mCgglUN745LOfMy/s4032/20200824_101944.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw75jOMBy62pzfr-hXwHp6FEr_F7WQ-8gHE3Z1-Qfjp3uU0LVgtETFBwb8TWS64kMzfGjG2nkfVc08_yL6L_s_zIwnbBuYijEC8tmEp8WKSO-OkBwVKiFmi079G1Th7mCgglUN745LOfMy/w400-h300/20200824_101944.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">And while our original plans were thwarted (much like everyone else) we have finally made it away and I can report having time off is great, not least as it is finally allowing me some time to catch up with the blog. I'm now so far behind that I'm now sat here, in the misty Lake District in mid-October, trying to desperately cast my mind back to warmer days when I attempted to cook my way through most the 'Trashy' chapter in Nigella Bites. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPaeM4U-YyhJvFI-Fmhwt8Tf0jV3YNZtCSjE2Vx1UU-IGvzNzDhPanKrZKPPp1_g07LSkMhPaULiQTrrx2rXUihvo2diyXGj2-8cpA5EtL4idzt8sFHlaGf8tYJjIhwx9outAOXPDF-L0z/s4032/20200823_180943.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPaeM4U-YyhJvFI-Fmhwt8Tf0jV3YNZtCSjE2Vx1UU-IGvzNzDhPanKrZKPPp1_g07LSkMhPaULiQTrrx2rXUihvo2diyXGj2-8cpA5EtL4idzt8sFHlaGf8tYJjIhwx9outAOXPDF-L0z/w400-h300/20200823_180943.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">Carrying on the general theme of 2020 why make anything easy and cook one just recipe, when you could cook several. Although the centrepiece of the feast was this ham joint cooked in cola and then glazed and baked until golden. A simple showstopper that Nigella loves so much that it features in two of her books (although the second time with Cherry Coke, which is arguably even better). For this I used a mixture of the two and, as it's not Christmas and large gammon joints are in short supply, a smaller piece of meat. Probably a good thing, as there's only two of us. Although I could happily eat this cold for days.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCt153QkPxI6zNcIIeRdGbAsvMgq0-cpfonSRNaWWYCjlA0DQ1mxLqG3f2JG0EG5gOHG9hwcmqy9doGAGoM1zTREhNIEsoogjDQThyphenhyphenqvuJ8v2cPDDbvzgHXAJN5pJ9tU1jPAF0dW0BkRMI/s4032/20200823_181119.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCt153QkPxI6zNcIIeRdGbAsvMgq0-cpfonSRNaWWYCjlA0DQ1mxLqG3f2JG0EG5gOHG9hwcmqy9doGAGoM1zTREhNIEsoogjDQThyphenhyphenqvuJ8v2cPDDbvzgHXAJN5pJ9tU1jPAF0dW0BkRMI/w400-h300/20200823_181119.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Ham in Coca Cola</b></div><div style="text-align: left;">All recipes below from Nigella Bites</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">1- 1.5kg gammon joint</div><div style="text-align: left;">1 onion (peeled and cut in half)</div><div style="text-align: left;">1 litre coca-cola or Cherry Coke (not diet)</div><div style="text-align: left;">1 handful of cloves</div><div style="text-align: left;">1 heaped tablespoon black treacle</div><div style="text-align: left;">2 teaspoons english mustard</div><div style="text-align: left;">2 tablespoons brown sugar</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Put the gammon in a pan, add the onion, then pour over the Coke.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Bring to the boil, reduce to a good simmer, put the lid on, though not tightly, and cook for about an hour.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Preheat the oven to 240°C</div><div style="text-align: left;">When the ham's ready (and ham it is, now it's cooked, though it's true Americans call it ham from its uncooked state) take it out of the pan and let cool a little. Then remove the skin, leaving a thin layer of fat. </div><div style="text-align: left;">Score the fat with a sharp knife to make fairly large diamond shapes, and stud each diamond with a clove. Then carefully spread the treacle over the ham and gently pat the mustard and sugar onto the sticky fat. </div><div style="text-align: left;">Cook in a foil-lined roasting tin for approximately 10 minutes or until the glaze is burnished and bubbly.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZQfDSnvlK9Bi0nbnw2YREgg0nIqwmwlkPTwNicAx3ZYzn4VG0Pfgnf8o-PSBQgZEpJTVFwm-Ykru_Wg4RororT7IcOs9fo3KQUf7ZWxUq2INvFhRRsv6XxJ6gXWiME8dFI-kcY3_uJTjr/s4032/20200823_195745.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZQfDSnvlK9Bi0nbnw2YREgg0nIqwmwlkPTwNicAx3ZYzn4VG0Pfgnf8o-PSBQgZEpJTVFwm-Ykru_Wg4RororT7IcOs9fo3KQUf7ZWxUq2INvFhRRsv6XxJ6gXWiME8dFI-kcY3_uJTjr/w400-h300/20200823_195745.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH34LKS_2iI85hhMrevrFfUQQFZYv-k5tbURAeBLl7mDDqpPPEZ8VXSOJQn7gZ112NrzeEJmRdGOxvGOqwQ321gbzjZmJMpUTR9-xokt_V5hX67cxKgDzXPPouOOqQfL3XnpWwlHKfq7_e/s4032/20200824_164324.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH34LKS_2iI85hhMrevrFfUQQFZYv-k5tbURAeBLl7mDDqpPPEZ8VXSOJQn7gZ112NrzeEJmRdGOxvGOqwQ321gbzjZmJMpUTR9-xokt_V5hX67cxKgDzXPPouOOqQfL3XnpWwlHKfq7_e/w400-h300/20200824_164324.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">Alongside the ham, what better than this creamy, sweetcorn pudding made with tinned creamed corn, a childhood favourite. Although it's not a difficult to make - although Nigella does suggest a slightly more labour-intensive version where you separate the eggs and whisk the whites to make a lighter pudding - if you were pushed for time, or just wanted an easy life, a tin of creamed corn would also work very well as an accompaniment. And maybe some buttery mash for the ultimate plate of comfort food.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBd5-GSHfQSrwr9nQH0gk2vYvJNXXjgGZa116RaAX0H1r04NFN-aS77wwXw7utXPvrk6gkTm2T4d-XtG8ueW1yZ14es96eGpf4SXCrwF2ikniUkqLquKnls1QrTpkuswYYiZfFLuLyLY9U/s4032/20200824_172830.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBd5-GSHfQSrwr9nQH0gk2vYvJNXXjgGZa116RaAX0H1r04NFN-aS77wwXw7utXPvrk6gkTm2T4d-XtG8ueW1yZ14es96eGpf4SXCrwF2ikniUkqLquKnls1QrTpkuswYYiZfFLuLyLY9U/w400-h300/20200824_172830.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Sweetcorn pudding</b></div><div style="text-align: left;">5 eggs</div><div style="text-align: left;">500g tinned sweetcorn, drained</div><div style="text-align: left;">300g tinned creamed corn</div><div style="text-align: left;">300ml cups milk</div><div style="text-align: left;">300ml double cream</div><div style="text-align: left;">60g plain flour</div><div style="text-align: left;">1/2 teaspoon baking powder</div><div style="text-align: left;">1/2 teaspoon salt</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Grease an ovenproof dish with a little butter, and preheat the oven to 190°C.</div><div style="text-align: left;">In a large mixing bowl, whisk the eggs, the beat in the rest of the ingredients.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Pour the pudding batter in the greased dish and bake for around an hour. The cake should turn golden and be slightly puffed on top. Insert a knife or skewer to make sure it’s completely cooked through.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilbl7U3RyY0bsQnKa4FgLnw6euJdGi1Msa8BIQ7mV3fNWR-mQNu-ywOtD5gf1b4CgOqsPmAH6EDrVFDtcRn8tbrWgKXB7DQZC9BeznIeWc02xg4Z8LS54sunBZk1aVyewf91qH0G4AOO05/s4032/20200824_175518.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilbl7U3RyY0bsQnKa4FgLnw6euJdGi1Msa8BIQ7mV3fNWR-mQNu-ywOtD5gf1b4CgOqsPmAH6EDrVFDtcRn8tbrWgKXB7DQZC9BeznIeWc02xg4Z8LS54sunBZk1aVyewf91qH0G4AOO05/w400-h300/20200824_175518.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">You might think that the leftover, salty cocoa cola mixture wouldn't be good for much, but Nigella suggests whipping up into this easy black bean soup. Not really my thing, a bowl was quite enough, but was a big hit with the Ewing for a quick working lunch.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>South Beach Black Bean Soup</b></div><div style="text-align: left;">500g dried black beans</div><div style="text-align: left;">Coca-Cola ham stock (see above)</div><div style="text-align: left;">Juice of ½ lime</div><div style="text-align: left;">1 teaspoon ground cumin</div><div style="text-align: left;">1 teaspoon ground coriander</div><div style="text-align: left;">Sour cream</div><div style="text-align: left;">Fresh coriander, chopped</div><div style="text-align: left;">Lime wedges</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: left;">Put the black beans in and the stock in a large pot. Let the liquid come to a boil and then reduce the heat to low and cook, partially covered, for 1 to 1½ hours. Remove about 3 ladles of the soup to a blender, add the lime juice and ground spices, blitz to a muddy purée and stir this back into the pan of soup. And that’s it.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Swirl some sour cream, and freshly chopped coriander to finish and serve with lime wedges.</div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq1W9QHLjWCRHy-gX5YyrKL8KB_yf2AonqdAUsidf4y76MBnHYInniNDiUhvruW4s-AbVZW9cvtac-WdPcIN3EMv7RkHtt2niWrqe_qv3_2sYSmP3I6fCP0wC-xtN1B1WhKQ_sn8nB_N_T/s4032/20200822_164601.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq1W9QHLjWCRHy-gX5YyrKL8KB_yf2AonqdAUsidf4y76MBnHYInniNDiUhvruW4s-AbVZW9cvtac-WdPcIN3EMv7RkHtt2niWrqe_qv3_2sYSmP3I6fCP0wC-xtN1B1WhKQ_sn8nB_N_T/w300-h400/20200822_164601.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div><div style="text-align: left;">And finally, a little glitz and glamour with some frozen watermelon daiquiris, that we knocked up for our friends back when the weather was still good and you could actually visit other people's houses....</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Frozen watermelon daiquiris</b></div><div style="text-align: left;">350 grams watermelon (without the seeds) cut into cubes and frozen</div><div style="text-align: left;">60 ml white rum</div><div style="text-align: left;">60 ml freshly squeezed lime juice</div><div style="text-align: left;">1 tablespoon icing sugar</div></div><div style="text-align: left;">Add frozen watermelon cubes, rum, lime juice and icing sugar to a blender (I used the Nutribullet) and blend until smooth.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Serve immediately, garnished with a wedge of lime if you want to be extra.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p></div>Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15971416625448882965noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8542790023139677056.post-68361047966589682712020-09-19T20:23:00.002+01:002020-09-19T20:23:36.596+01:00week 33 - Madhur Jaffrey's Indian Cookery<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyOQ8tZUit6ffAtWumE-rH7S9ioKS9Wq7DAcsJYbIFlI2aigayLk-k6jyV6GOQRcjnsheudk8Gz_X-WALGjrZRtHER6c3rd7lGgwYYGOd-BsQI_AoOFkoqj0C5Be0o5ICDkbvgWwXvVoXQ/s4032/20200814_191146.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyOQ8tZUit6ffAtWumE-rH7S9ioKS9Wq7DAcsJYbIFlI2aigayLk-k6jyV6GOQRcjnsheudk8Gz_X-WALGjrZRtHER6c3rd7lGgwYYGOd-BsQI_AoOFkoqj0C5Be0o5ICDkbvgWwXvVoXQ/w400-h300/20200814_191146.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Following hot on the heels of one childhood classic - the infamous Delia's tarragon chicken, from her Summer Collection - this week features another beloved influence from when I was growing up - Madhur Jaffrey and her concise tome, published in 1982, on Indian Cookery. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After the BBC aired the TV series that accompanied the book, her calming manner and her fail-proof recipes meant she quickly became a household name. Soon housewives all over the land were cooking whole legs of lamb in a yoghurt sauce; Indian-style pork chipolatas and pork chops with chickpeas; and mini cocktail koftas and chicken tikka skewers to serve at provincial dinner parties.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbSHchAsHEEcNBGPILWSiSSvu-vCdfGgR_nfcP0M9uWpv2qhOQHmEoWoswnb1MhQotasL2NXP76INUfcG8ErZL4MmRmZ-Ye7snadOVQ970AZBmnBMPIlMoaNZxw5Bydz8Bm3pFVngcx9O4/s4032/20200813_162214.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbSHchAsHEEcNBGPILWSiSSvu-vCdfGgR_nfcP0M9uWpv2qhOQHmEoWoswnb1MhQotasL2NXP76INUfcG8ErZL4MmRmZ-Ye7snadOVQ970AZBmnBMPIlMoaNZxw5Bydz8Bm3pFVngcx9O4/w400-h300/20200813_162214.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">I still vividly remember the shelf of books in my parent's kitchen; and how I would sit and leaf through them after dinner, excitedly planning my future dinner parties from delights such as the Milk Marketing Board Cookbook and the Heinz Cookbook ( I recollect that my Sister made the bean-filled shepherds pie on several occasions). While Delia's Summer Collection featured a showy sunflower on the cover, tempting you in, Madhur went for something more, well, beige. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">That, coupled by a distinct lack of photos, meant it wasn't always one of my favourites to look at. But, as you could tell by the well-thumbed corners and oil-splattered pages it was much-loved by my Mum for cooking from, with recipes that were dependable yet exotic.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm7FL4JD_PHZlN2VO0NjGv2zJNxvEECmY_VHVrWgoaG5lZJjhuMr95z5yha2pmAffAHDfvgvJLbAHFQ8n6CnPSCt1VXieUGTho0oGNmbX0jf2_9gIcMvsqo7wxdBmsb3GnPaXoDsNFKNg7/s4032/20200813_172516.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm7FL4JD_PHZlN2VO0NjGv2zJNxvEECmY_VHVrWgoaG5lZJjhuMr95z5yha2pmAffAHDfvgvJLbAHFQ8n6CnPSCt1VXieUGTho0oGNmbX0jf2_9gIcMvsqo7wxdBmsb3GnPaXoDsNFKNg7/w400-h300/20200813_172516.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">My absolute favourite of the dishes she cooked from it was the keema matar, or mince and peas. You can use beef or lamb, but I think lamb is best. Even better is mutton, and I bough half a kilo of course ground mutton from Turner and George for my version of this (which still wasn't as good as my mum's). </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I, for once, followed the recipe faithfully, but it's very adaptable and forgiving kind of dish and I have made with the addition of tinned tomatoes, and chunks of par-boiled potato (added with the water) and a mix of different spices, including cardamom, cinnamon and turmeric, and also with a mix of garam masala and curry powder, and it's always been great.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigmrv56Fm9hyphenhyphenldDCYbywsuHdvXGNbXwtEl0dD1Ym4qwMLobMkOYdM0erSE2R43RgQrwk9akMoHS-nonidRSlcogoOxE2iplBIGP4AEH_Fr6Rxpj9X7Hbg9Cmew7WB17IOL7_7w-M9GAyCI/s4032/20200814_191114.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigmrv56Fm9hyphenhyphenldDCYbywsuHdvXGNbXwtEl0dD1Ym4qwMLobMkOYdM0erSE2R43RgQrwk9akMoHS-nonidRSlcogoOxE2iplBIGP4AEH_Fr6Rxpj9X7Hbg9Cmew7WB17IOL7_7w-M9GAyCI/w400-h300/20200814_191114.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Minced meat and peas</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Adapted from Madhur Jaffrey's Indian Cookery</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">1 tbsp vegetable oil</div><div style="text-align: left;">1 medium onion, peeled and finely chopped</div><div style="text-align: left;">3 medium cloves garlic, peeled and finely chopped</div><div style="text-align: left;">500g minced lamb (ground beef may be substituted) </div><div style="text-align: left;">A 3cm piece of fresh ginger, peeled and grated </div><div style="text-align: left;">1-2 fresh, hot green chilies, chopped</div><div style="text-align: left;">1tsp ground coriander seeds</div><div style="text-align: left;">1 tsp ground cumin seeds</div><div style="text-align: left;">Salt and freshly ground black pepper</div><div style="text-align: left;">300g frozen peas</div><div style="text-align: left;">1 tsp garam masala</div><div style="text-align: left;">Half a lemon</div><div style="text-align: left;">Fresh coriander, chopped, to serve</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Put the oil in a large frying pan over a medium-high heat. When hot, brown the mince (in batches if needed) set aside and drain all bit a tablespoon of oil from the pan.</div><div><div style="text-align: left;">Add the onion and stir and fry until lightly browned. Add the garlic, stir and fry for another minute. </div><div style="text-align: left;">Add the lamb, ginger, green chillies, coriander and cumin.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Add ¾ cup water and bring to a boil. Cover, turn heat to low, and simmer for 30 minutes. Add the peas, fresh coriander, salt and pepper garam masala, lemon juice, and the remaining water. </div><div style="text-align: left;">Mix and bring to a simmer. Cover and cook on low heat another 10 minutes or until peas are tender. </div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlXzQHotmFnk98agtJK9wkT47bs02rBwuRYPLaEhsQZ_HA8-WsQ5hWeEWz4Yy3NZP3z6fLExcZFtxXKEsjtOb4IKQwEKtTHnRwOPPs_HS9P5K9DRYrWXu97eH7eUtIwN8QSL4lb-rtfbUZ/s4032/20200813_201647.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlXzQHotmFnk98agtJK9wkT47bs02rBwuRYPLaEhsQZ_HA8-WsQ5hWeEWz4Yy3NZP3z6fLExcZFtxXKEsjtOb4IKQwEKtTHnRwOPPs_HS9P5K9DRYrWXu97eH7eUtIwN8QSL4lb-rtfbUZ/w400-h300/20200813_201647.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiZuqHGy0i576VeCIFBOSJH1Fxc1-GCW4papZOBHxgQr1ML3QertXr7n1CKCo2hElL6QZqmNysMDojExKxSVWib7KILoQOfH20OkAvIoVUX-vXsSpeu5A3Ifax-Qof4sE7eHyleJYVlpsk/s4032/20200814_190833.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiZuqHGy0i576VeCIFBOSJH1Fxc1-GCW4papZOBHxgQr1ML3QertXr7n1CKCo2hElL6QZqmNysMDojExKxSVWib7KILoQOfH20OkAvIoVUX-vXsSpeu5A3Ifax-Qof4sE7eHyleJYVlpsk/w400-h300/20200814_190833.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">I also made butter chicken, which wasn't strictly a Madhur recipe as I marinated the chicken in a tandoori spice mix and yoghurt, before grilling until charred in places, and then adding to a defrosted batch of sauce I made aeons ago but was still very tasty. Looking (and tasting) like a spiced-up version of Heinz tinned tomato soup. and none the worse for it. I'm afraid I used Google when I made it and don't have a recipe. But Madhur does, and it's probably very good</div></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgTBwwAMBEs4s3i8-EjFUsraAdcDMK9d8w2pTUnB-haxeDVs0cWXMgsAEc_LUjFfX8KlSNnLbIVTYgW_88VX-NrKkyc-Vm6DHlT7Abqg7_m_LKVnHFx28z9Om-s0BpORRP4Y4rVPaaycUR/s4032/20200814_185131.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgTBwwAMBEs4s3i8-EjFUsraAdcDMK9d8w2pTUnB-haxeDVs0cWXMgsAEc_LUjFfX8KlSNnLbIVTYgW_88VX-NrKkyc-Vm6DHlT7Abqg7_m_LKVnHFx28z9Om-s0BpORRP4Y4rVPaaycUR/w400-h300/20200814_185131.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">There has to be some ballast to soak up the sauce and the beer, and I would normally go for bread. A nice puffy peshawari nan or a virtuous wholewheat chapati for preference, but one of the things I am determined to master in 20202 is cooking rice. While I wouldn't say this was perfect, it was a decent effort and extremely easy.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Mushroom Pilau </b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Adapted from Madhur Jaffrey's Indian Cooking</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Wash 450ml basmati rice, soak in cold water for about 30 minutes then drain.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Fry a small onion and 1 chopped clove of garlic. Add 200g sliced mushrooms, and fry for a few minutes, then add 1/2 teaspoon of grated ginger and 1/4 teaspoon garam masala and a pinch of salt. Stir a couple of times and add the rice. Stir until the rice is coated in the oil and add enough water to just cover – less water than you would usually add as the rice is soaked. Bring to a boil, put the lid on the pot, turn off the heat and leave for 15 minutes. Fluff through the grains with a fork and serve</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmIq0kqb6d5vbZZ8U-h09-GF8SWN7OKdPq64ncTkJdzDbP0PUVA3bvhFtDZL1_jGN8GyJ15275Iq8Zf3kKL1Cgd7lJPq71pDMcWaAxROYefNF_dnmEO5rrPSzDjCdKQhai8DUMrljAACjb/s4032/20200814_191130.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmIq0kqb6d5vbZZ8U-h09-GF8SWN7OKdPq64ncTkJdzDbP0PUVA3bvhFtDZL1_jGN8GyJ15275Iq8Zf3kKL1Cgd7lJPq71pDMcWaAxROYefNF_dnmEO5rrPSzDjCdKQhai8DUMrljAACjb/w400-h300/20200814_191130.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">And finally, some veg. As much as I love meat and fish, I think I could quite happily be a vegetarian on the Indian subcontinent with dishes such a cheesy peas, aloo gobi, aubergines cooked in picking spice and, my favourite bhindi bhaji (the much maligned okra). This recipe is fresh and crisp and helps balance out a big meal, the shredded stir fried carrot and cabbage, lightly spiced with mustard seeds and a little chilli.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Gujerati Cabbage with Carrots </b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Adapted from Madhur Jaffrey's Indian Cooking</b></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">1/2 a medium white or green cabbage</div><div style="text-align: left;">3-4 carrots</div><div style="text-align: left;">1 fresh, hot green chilli</div><div style="text-align: left;">2 tbsp vegetable oil</div><div style="text-align: left;">1 tbsp whole black mustard seeds</div><div style="text-align: left;">1 whole, hot dried red chilli</div><div style="text-align: left;">1/2 tsp sugar</div><div style="text-align: left;">1/2 lemon</div><div style="text-align: left;">salt to taste</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: left;">Core the cabbage and cut in into fine, long shreds. Peel the carrots and grate them coarsely. Cut the green chilli into thin, long strips.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Heat the oil in a wide, casserole-type dish over a medium-high flame. When hot put in the mustard seeds. As soon as the mustard seeds begin to pop (this takes just a few seconds), put in the dried red chilli, cabbage, carrots and green chilli. Turn the heat down to medium and stir the vegetables around for half a minute. Add the salt and sugar. Stir and cook for another 4 minutes or until vegetables are just done and retain some of the their crispness. Add the lemon juice. Stir to mix. </div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigtSUyvsLQKUZvjVeLLwRokQbcYxYSlI1Cqkh1Tw8CrAW7HWBAEfZuyUtYe4EYksHgHnu3gq7VJJHajPfG2Bosv6uALHBaHyQMATPKQKFGIzFAZ4NB0VQUApWVDJvqJ6xh-Fm55G0OAEaF/s4032/20200814_191719.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigtSUyvsLQKUZvjVeLLwRokQbcYxYSlI1Cqkh1Tw8CrAW7HWBAEfZuyUtYe4EYksHgHnu3gq7VJJHajPfG2Bosv6uALHBaHyQMATPKQKFGIzFAZ4NB0VQUApWVDJvqJ6xh-Fm55G0OAEaF/w400-h300/20200814_191719.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div>Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15971416625448882965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8542790023139677056.post-48931424813257300082020-09-06T20:05:00.001+01:002020-09-06T20:05:42.008+01:00week 32 Delia's Summer Collection - Delia Smith<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5I8boCQi5RbMHhuL5I0czzxpor5ptCqB_7P9NypiCkHaMliZJBRyD_yJSQH-B4e95p_SQe0NejBBSjuakPH8WTM36zaLeWCNY2bWSkmD-n_ujP3GcP6RNKeCkr2Pm4WlxpEPfnjn6gpvr/s4032/20200809_192758.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5I8boCQi5RbMHhuL5I0czzxpor5ptCqB_7P9NypiCkHaMliZJBRyD_yJSQH-B4e95p_SQe0NejBBSjuakPH8WTM36zaLeWCNY2bWSkmD-n_ujP3GcP6RNKeCkr2Pm4WlxpEPfnjn6gpvr/w400-h300/20200809_192758.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">'Delia's tarragon chicken' always reminds me of my family. It was a family favourite when I growing up and my Mum and Sister still mention it when we talk about what we are going to have for dinner in the group chat. Its a timeless recipe that seems as equally at home as a mid-week supper or at a fancy dinner party (my sister cooked it at one of her first proper 'weekends away' with her friends. Before everyone got blotto and ended up, fully clothed, in the swimming pool....)</div><div style="text-align: left;">.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFMLwH8CQmUBEmWv5756J-GW4w2RC90TcM64K4cr4DqnX6qF83XCtDn_-h7oUY2gSR1RheTPW4E8A-jhULshn_zHeuZ4zEZm1DwjrUyeAFt5e2zjM5NZWYOYkl6JP-2lYMW_WmTW2pG56l/s4032/20200810_110833.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFMLwH8CQmUBEmWv5756J-GW4w2RC90TcM64K4cr4DqnX6qF83XCtDn_-h7oUY2gSR1RheTPW4E8A-jhULshn_zHeuZ4zEZm1DwjrUyeAFt5e2zjM5NZWYOYkl6JP-2lYMW_WmTW2pG56l/w400-h300/20200810_110833.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">The recipe features in Delia's Summer Collection and is her take on the French classic poulet au vinaigre. Released the summer I was 12, the Summer Collection is still up there in my top ten cookery books as it introduced me to exotic recipes such as halloumi with capers and lime; and Piedmont peppers (via Elizabeth David); and, in the vegetarian chapter, pasta puttanesca (which Delia describes as 'tart's pasta and advises 'if your'e a strict vegetarian replace the anchovies with another spoonful of capers'). Suddenly the world turned from a murky beige to glorious technicolor.</div><div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgocYn5v6dQ_oguZX86-Ns3ORIbMaGF0q5TM0-gkapO8Ia1oIPZZg0HXJemPc7cMZxoKoeccVma0J5cUPd9YbhO3iPeGEM76WMW1OHdsbWucasKzCBsnXEGnM4FgD8kNNKzPSHGFVGOoBJQ/s4032/20200809_181916.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgocYn5v6dQ_oguZX86-Ns3ORIbMaGF0q5TM0-gkapO8Ia1oIPZZg0HXJemPc7cMZxoKoeccVma0J5cUPd9YbhO3iPeGEM76WMW1OHdsbWucasKzCBsnXEGnM4FgD8kNNKzPSHGFVGOoBJQ/w400-h300/20200809_181916.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">When I was younger I remember being very vocal that, when I grew up and had the wherewithal make tarragon chicken for myself, I certainly wouldn't restrict myself to three measly shallots per serving. Then I grew up and realised you had to go and find the shallots, and buy them, and - and this is the real kicker - peel them all individually. And, while I did add as many to the pan, through watering eyes, as I could could be bothered to prepare, with the benefit of hindsight I fully endorse my mother for sticking to the recipe. Sorry Mum for doubting your wisdom.</div></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEsGhwJiWajHk80fPbSQUafxhFe9j41_2sxr1IYJLSynUcSEPnx7xk7dKa-GPFHzQRn2_szoF4MWfLN5V7Qk2A3EgBmQMDcDTx0XqKNejS8JrD0GsNzyLKr_Ol7SHInLV6710uiJkNxQva/s4032/20200809_193036.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEsGhwJiWajHk80fPbSQUafxhFe9j41_2sxr1IYJLSynUcSEPnx7xk7dKa-GPFHzQRn2_szoF4MWfLN5V7Qk2A3EgBmQMDcDTx0XqKNejS8JrD0GsNzyLKr_Ol7SHInLV6710uiJkNxQva/w300-h400/20200809_193036.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">Another thing that I didn't appreciate as a youngster was the price of sherry. On this occasion I used Marsala, as a substitute for (near enough a pint of) Amontillado, as that's what I had in the cupboard. But if you are economising, or don't have a bottle of sherry knocking around, or want to whip this up for a quick mid-week dinner (and you should, because it;'s wonderful) then you can use white wine or, I think even better, a can of dry cider. Switch up to cider vinegar if you want to carry on the apple theme. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcoyDs9pdAHeRHYTjyq_7Rq9JhdiN8Nflu2vrjMZrWyprLa7D4bZItrZRhyphenhyphenilJEdRYfeJQ6hSWyTYYuduaN2i8CAc2tTzfvOSaJCyG8YIQ5Y9PfQ76DuzhB4VYZVMtL9fe9bvIQ0UOv9fY/s4032/20200809_192951.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcoyDs9pdAHeRHYTjyq_7Rq9JhdiN8Nflu2vrjMZrWyprLa7D4bZItrZRhyphenhyphenilJEdRYfeJQ6hSWyTYYuduaN2i8CAc2tTzfvOSaJCyG8YIQ5Y9PfQ76DuzhB4VYZVMtL9fe9bvIQ0UOv9fY/w400-h300/20200809_192951.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Delia's Tarragon Chicken</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">1 chicken, jointed into 8 pieces, or 8 bone-in thighs</div><div style="text-align: left;">150 ml sherry vinegar</div><div style="text-align: left;">2 tbsp fresh tarragon leaves, plus extra to garnish</div><div style="text-align: left;">2 tbsp olive oil</div><div style="text-align: left;">12 shallots, peeled and left whole</div><div style="text-align: left;">4 cloves garlic, peeled and left whole</div><div style="text-align: left;">400 ml Amontillado sherry, Marsala, dry cider or white wine</div><div style="text-align: left;">2 tbsp crème fraîche</div><div style="text-align: left;">salt and freshly ground black pepper</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Heat the oil in a large frying pan and season the chicken.</div><div style="text-align: left;">When the oil begins to shimmer, fry the chicken -in two batches, if needed - until brown. Place the browned chicken on a plate.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Add the shallots to the pan, brown these a little, and finally add the garlic cloves to colour slightly. Turn the heat down, return the chicken pieces to the pan, scatter the tarragon leaves all over, then pour in the vinegar and sherry. Bring to a simmer simmer, then turn the heat to a very low setting, so that the whole thing barely bubbles, for 45 minutes.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Halfway through, turn the chicken pieces over in the sauce. When they're ready, remove them to a warm serving dish (right side up) along with the shallots and garlic. </div><div style="text-align: left;">The sauce will by now have reduced and concentrated. Whisk the crème fraîche into it, taste it and season as required, then pour the sauce all over the chicken and scatter with the sprigs of tarragon.</div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6f0c_lji9XQ-pzdP3_bKgYLw1muoMgqb8DJN5n3l6LETTngj5d53fBCQaimYaSPhaOoJkHMez7Pc65rFQukHLFDqEhCnIoFCEAx231Uf0C7pIniHMlgGyTFbO6EKc1PvomkcaJAmcT-QW/s4032/20200809_193800.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6f0c_lji9XQ-pzdP3_bKgYLw1muoMgqb8DJN5n3l6LETTngj5d53fBCQaimYaSPhaOoJkHMez7Pc65rFQukHLFDqEhCnIoFCEAx231Uf0C7pIniHMlgGyTFbO6EKc1PvomkcaJAmcT-QW/w300-h400/20200809_193800.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">Saint Delia recommends serving with new potatoes and peas. So I did. The former being straight out the ground at the allotment. The latter were straight out the freezer. Glass of rose with an ice cube optional but very delicious. Cheers to my lovely family, this one's for you.</div><p></p></div></div>Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15971416625448882965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8542790023139677056.post-6430091674537091502020-08-27T23:07:00.000+01:002020-08-27T23:07:42.272+01:00week 31 - Ottolenghi<p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz1OeAUAn25f2KXWokpx2XfNLC4uVQ9ocsUmoyVkGiWuzBAuWAcB8L6p6U77RjmqZqPWFpA2LA0cSTdxn26fSlOwZtocpCbZV0cdo7JiqM9T6-5yIuYw42gMtXINPP2QFdO2AIeVxyAjB3/s4032/20200801_192057.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="307" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz1OeAUAn25f2KXWokpx2XfNLC4uVQ9ocsUmoyVkGiWuzBAuWAcB8L6p6U77RjmqZqPWFpA2LA0cSTdxn26fSlOwZtocpCbZV0cdo7JiqM9T6-5yIuYw42gMtXINPP2QFdO2AIeVxyAjB3/w410-h307/20200801_192057.jpg" width="410" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">Stealth's birthday celebration have featured several times before on the blog, including <a href="https://piesandfries.blogspot.com/2013/07/scandanavian-summer-strawberry-cake.html">summer strawberry cakes</a>, <a href="https://piesandfries.blogspot.com/2014/08/noodle-bar-leicester-square-and-some.html">handmade noodles</a>, and several weekends where we probably didn't feel like eating much at all. This year I had something special planned - a meat feast, and not like the ones we used to get half-price when she worked a Pizza Hut.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyUytZJVgXqh42_atN0K-BsLGGwBFTJHkVqOaDQs7oPp84HWrj20rCgsLIx_IHDOb-UhofUpOYWzduudbADbICKLFTZ9njIx45UREjemOrmWDMrc7OAj-x-JA6riaHs-rsN8zyMSpj08rG/s4032/20200730_090415.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="307" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyUytZJVgXqh42_atN0K-BsLGGwBFTJHkVqOaDQs7oPp84HWrj20rCgsLIx_IHDOb-UhofUpOYWzduudbADbICKLFTZ9njIx45UREjemOrmWDMrc7OAj-x-JA6riaHs-rsN8zyMSpj08rG/w410-h307/20200730_090415.jpg" width="410" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">To celebrate the heralding of the last year of her fourth decade, I had bought a whole, larder trimmed, fillet of beef from <a href="www.turnerandgeorge.co.uk">Turner and George</a>. While this was a mostly altruistic gesture, I also knew that the tail fillet would make a great tartare, which we enjoyed the night before Stealth arrived, along with some frites and a green salad. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The rest of the beef (minus a small part of the Chateaubriand, that I cut off and put in the freezer to attempt the wellington treatment on at some point) was going to be anointed simply with salt and pepper and olive oil, roasted quickly so it was still pink within, and served with three homemade sauces and some colourful salads. All taken from the brilliant first Ottolenghi cookbook.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdOhGRvmXV-O2CQiwu8B4nB4w9wNRyIe1iZs2KqU-lPdd_LO-gjYTWM-T-h4FmTaNnbxdEc_B-kY-0oD4cRb-pIsor5D1aFbqZNWsQKTufX-nJchsVm3vMonlxxDWy7GBmmvxZdU0vamMQ/s4032/20200730_190647.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="307" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdOhGRvmXV-O2CQiwu8B4nB4w9wNRyIe1iZs2KqU-lPdd_LO-gjYTWM-T-h4FmTaNnbxdEc_B-kY-0oD4cRb-pIsor5D1aFbqZNWsQKTufX-nJchsVm3vMonlxxDWy7GBmmvxZdU0vamMQ/w410-h307/20200730_190647.jpg" width="410" /></a></div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><b>Roast beef fillet with three sauces</b></div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">1 beef fillet, trimmed, (about 1.5kg) at room temperature</div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">olive oil</div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">coarse sea salt</div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">black pepper</div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">Preheat the oven to 220C. Place the fillet in a bowl with the oil, salt and pepper and massage in to the meat. Place a heavy pan on a high heat and sear the fillet until brown all over. I</div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">Transfer the fillet to a roasting tray and put in the oven to roast. 10-14 mins for medium rare, 15-18 mins for medium or longer for well done. </div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">Remove from the oven, wrap in foil and leave to rest for at least 30 minutes. When ready to serve, unwrap and cut into slices. Season with sea salt.</div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><b>Choka (smoky tomato sauce)</b></div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">450g plum tomatoes</div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">2 tbsp sunflower oil</div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">1 small onion, thinly sliced</div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">1 red chilli, seeded and chopped</div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">2 garlic cloves, crushed</div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">2 tbsp chopped coriander</div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">1 tbsp paprika</div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">a pinch of dried chilli flakes</div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">salt and black pepper</div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">Preheat the grill half the tomatoes and place, cut side down, on a tray. Put the whole tomatoes under it and cook for about 15 minutes, until the skin is burnt and blistered. The burnt skin will give the sauce its smoky flavour. Place the hot tomatoes in a bowl and crush them roughly with a wooden spoon. Pick out most of the skin.</div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">In a saucepan, heat up the oil. add the onion and cook for 3 minutes on a medium heat. Add the onion and oil to the crushed tomatoes, together with the chilli, garlic, coriander, paprika and chilli flakes. Taste and season liberally with salt and pepper. Serve warm or at room temperature.</div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><b>Rocket and horseradish sauce</b></div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">50g rocket</div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">2 tbsp freshly grated horseradish (I used 1 heaped tbsp from a far)</div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">1 garlic clove, crushed</div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">2 tbsp olive oil</div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">1 tbsp milk</div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">1/2 tsp salt</div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">1/2 tsp black pepper</div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">125g Greek yoghurt</div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">Put all the ingredients except the yoghurt in a blender or food processor and pulse until smooth. Transfer to a bowl, add the yoghurt and mix well. </div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><b>Watercress and mustard sauce</b></div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">40g watercress</div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">1 tbsp wholegrain mustard</div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">1 tbsp Dijon mustard</div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">1 garlic clove crushed</div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">2 tbsp olive oil</div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">Sea salt and black pepper</div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">100g cream cheese</div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">Put all the ingredients except the cream cheese in a blender or food processor and pulse until smooth. Transfer to a bowl, add the cream cheese and mix well. </div></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgta_Sggj8GOPpO3DTIs4kkqCwd1aRVdGYzX7l4XILv1FSKX17TPp2zpb_Hm_exp1LoGy8dC_LRxbu903ine0xSkiVf1fmE0vubnZ2oFGP1EzYUC_vkOxpj-saDOEUnHY1TPAzzLXhpdOKR/s4032/20200801_191235.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="307" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgta_Sggj8GOPpO3DTIs4kkqCwd1aRVdGYzX7l4XILv1FSKX17TPp2zpb_Hm_exp1LoGy8dC_LRxbu903ine0xSkiVf1fmE0vubnZ2oFGP1EzYUC_vkOxpj-saDOEUnHY1TPAzzLXhpdOKR/w410-h307/20200801_191235.jpg" width="410" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCEXiJ4kk44bVg61BO62VW8yB70l-EwYMmm-0tejHFl0NbJf3lV4uN6qr90HzoTtUxWm5Cy1MBNlp_1RzM7NxXzkwoDHwRgJZR068xxoKNACkCfYIRNpFbJyE81NmYIe7rbsSRT2CQZMbm/s4032/20200801_191257.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="307" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCEXiJ4kk44bVg61BO62VW8yB70l-EwYMmm-0tejHFl0NbJf3lV4uN6qr90HzoTtUxWm5Cy1MBNlp_1RzM7NxXzkwoDHwRgJZR068xxoKNACkCfYIRNpFbJyE81NmYIe7rbsSRT2CQZMbm/w410-h307/20200801_191257.jpg" width="410" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">Alongside the beef I also made the roasted aubergine with saffron yoghurt and pomegranate; a superb dish that both looks impressive and is easy to throw together (bake slices of aubergine in the oven and then cool and cover with the yoghurt dressing, pomegranate and basil). And chargrilled asparagus, courgette and manouri, which is a Greek goat and sheep cheese, similar to halloumi, that has luckily made its way to the shelves of Waitrose in Wycombe. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6fGxwKUbzEBRQBI5XpZqFtNxvYhKmQjr0Agd3KamHQP95gtqw_9LEDMPkfyr2m2NGqPXhFu64SZcYWWfjHhFmWZcCjaCxc8amx12yg9C8yACyZAT0TaTqSA1nAkQaielQs1s4nQgw3T26/s4032/20200801_192553.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6fGxwKUbzEBRQBI5XpZqFtNxvYhKmQjr0Agd3KamHQP95gtqw_9LEDMPkfyr2m2NGqPXhFu64SZcYWWfjHhFmWZcCjaCxc8amx12yg9C8yACyZAT0TaTqSA1nAkQaielQs1s4nQgw3T26/w307-h410/20200801_192553.jpg" width="307" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">At least I knew if the food didn't impress her, my choice of supermarket would. Luckily, it was all a big hit.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div></div>Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15971416625448882965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8542790023139677056.post-61687309286520641632020-08-20T18:49:00.000+01:002020-08-20T18:49:07.659+01:00week 30 - Every Grain of Rice - Fuschia Dunlop <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjff-4sl2FW8b5SMTJK513XYWrdnR7WryMtVK5fVcekm3PWzkOX_4cKytFe5Lbfr8aEBwJ8c4gxOpbN5EtjHGqdHRD93OZABUdlewwkY2n8POk7qBsQSTJB8nXR8Hnu_LOphZJ-SG3d1a3Q/s4032/20200722_193628.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjff-4sl2FW8b5SMTJK513XYWrdnR7WryMtVK5fVcekm3PWzkOX_4cKytFe5Lbfr8aEBwJ8c4gxOpbN5EtjHGqdHRD93OZABUdlewwkY2n8POk7qBsQSTJB8nXR8Hnu_LOphZJ-SG3d1a3Q/w400-h300/20200722_193628.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">While I'm sure I will look back at the blog in times to come and marvel at how well we ate during this strange period, the reality is that about 80 per cent of our time since March has been spent either cooking or washing up. (With another ten per cent reserved for feeding my bloody sourdough starter).</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: left;">Mostly, it's been worth it. But as I stood in the heat of high summer, poised over a wok full of bubbling oil while desperately trying to stop my slices of aubergine disintegrating, I questioned my recipe choices. And when I then found that we didn't have any chilli oil (a constituent part of three quarters of the dishes I was cooking), the Ewing questioned my choices too. Although she still grabbed a mask and went out to the shops. Mostly to escape from me a a semi-hysterical state for a few minutes.</div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl4pwnDW2giOqs_IrvaYbFMegBGEtsWGhKUFdg_fIJkSfiKsALAArCa1Uv9m7kNl7SWDBme7bKw4rCvbrrbqoFFks5eL112rwfNq8hNUkAlcFCl-Nq4yVD6liqd_D-jS4CiiIZkGfWveeK/s4032/20200722_203757.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl4pwnDW2giOqs_IrvaYbFMegBGEtsWGhKUFdg_fIJkSfiKsALAArCa1Uv9m7kNl7SWDBme7bKw4rCvbrrbqoFFks5eL112rwfNq8hNUkAlcFCl-Nq4yVD6liqd_D-jS4CiiIZkGfWveeK/w400-h300/20200722_203757.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">While it all sounds rather frantic, my mini meltdown belies how easy most of these dishes - from Fuchsia Dunlop's Every Grain of Rice - actually are. In fact, I rustled up four different plates of food, plus some rice, in about an hour after work and didn't end up divorced (despite my best efforts). </div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">It's a great book as I have ever cooked from it has simultaneously been simple (although anything deep-fried remains my Achilles heel) yet terribly exotic. After you've stocked up on a few basic sauces and spices - then the majority of the dishes contain only a handful of ingredients and can be made within minutes. At if you are a chilli head, like me, you in luck as lots of the recipes contain a good dose of spice (and if they don't, I usually chuck in a dried chilli or two anyway...)</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL0s_7X87aBmhYjMa6XscqRZh8305t_Qabm1QMV12kqKDQ85cuaBrizJhS6U2g9d9QUo6wdnUulHQawzGH_xIz5SegkBnlZOBG3bIrY3qxXs42Wf6m2LkYKPgT1PZeTQStdPIgKFg94mMf/s4032/20200722_185703.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL0s_7X87aBmhYjMa6XscqRZh8305t_Qabm1QMV12kqKDQ85cuaBrizJhS6U2g9d9QUo6wdnUulHQawzGH_xIz5SegkBnlZOBG3bIrY3qxXs42Wf6m2LkYKPgT1PZeTQStdPIgKFg94mMf/w400-h300/20200722_185703.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">I tackled my nemesis, the fish fragrant aubergines, first. The dish contains precisely zero piscine elements but is so named for the sauce that draws on the seasonings used in Sichuanese fish cookery. Deep frying in a wok is not as traumatic as I always make out, and the advantage is you don't need much oil, although you do have to fry the aubergine in several batches. This is a dish that's also good cold, but make sure you drain the aubergine well before dressing, so it doesn't become too oily.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Fish fragrant aubergines</b></div><div style="text-align: left;">3 medium aubergines</div><div style="text-align: left;">Salt</div><div style="text-align: left;">Cooking oil, for deep-frying - about 400ml if you are using a round-bottomed wok</div><div style="text-align: left;">1 1/2 tbsp Sichuan pickled chilli paste (I used sambal oelek)</div><div style="text-align: left;">2tbsp vegetable oil</div><div style="text-align: left;">1 tbsp finely chopped ginger</div><div style="text-align: left;">1 tbsp finely chopped garlic</div><div style="text-align: left;">150ml chicken stock</div><div style="text-align: left;">2 tsp sugar</div><div style="text-align: left;">3/4 tsp potato flour (or cornflour) mixed with one tbsp cold water</div><div><div style="text-align: left;">2 tsp Chinkiang brown rice vinegar</div><div style="text-align: left;">4 tbsp finely sliced spring onion greens</div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: left;">Cut the aubergine lengthways into three thick slices, then cut these into evenly sized batons. Sprinkle them with salt, mix well and leave in a colander for at least 30 minutes to drain.</div><div style="text-align: left;">In a wok, heat the oil to 180˚C. Add the aubergine in batches and deep-fry for three to four minutes until slightly golden on the outside and soft and buttery within. Remove and drain on paper towels.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Drain the oil from the wok and rinse if necessary, then return it to a medium heat. When the wok is hot again, add 2 tbsp of oil. Add the chilli bean paste and stir-fry until the oil is red and fragrant, then add the ginger and garlic and continue to stir-fry for a minute or two.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Add the stock, vinegar and sugar and mix well. Season with salt to taste if necessary. Add the fried aubergine and the vinegar to the sauce. Stir the potato flour and water mixture, pour it over the aubergine and stir in gently to thicken the sauce. Tip into a serving dish and garnish with spring onions.</div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUhdoFDBPZE-p02bXPqBWnHVCAanzk8bEYfOiB_T0J9NfwG_TDDp646YaX2IqWBTelJQ3lwMYrMOv1hmRHRo6iIf9yyBZvYB1EX5n2LsvUHEXjZAWvExaXj6fUTVhvGigrGA6FHmp6Af2R/s4032/20200722_193121.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUhdoFDBPZE-p02bXPqBWnHVCAanzk8bEYfOiB_T0J9NfwG_TDDp646YaX2IqWBTelJQ3lwMYrMOv1hmRHRo6iIf9yyBZvYB1EX5n2LsvUHEXjZAWvExaXj6fUTVhvGigrGA6FHmp6Af2R/w400-h300/20200722_193121.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">Next was one of my favourites, cold dressed chicken with a spicy Sichuanese sauce; which is very similar to another famous Sichuan cold chicken dish, 'mouth-watering' chicken. Sometimes known as the less successfully translated 'saliva' chicken. Here poached, or leftover roast, chicken is shredded and mixed with a simple spicy sauce before being garnished with sliced spring onion and sesame seeds.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Cold Chicken with a Spicy Sichuanese Sauce (Liang Ban Ji)</b></div><div><div style="text-align: left;">About 400g cold, cooked boneless chicken, shredded</div><div style="text-align: left;">3 spring onions</div><div style="text-align: left;">1/4 tsp salt</div><div style="text-align: left;">1 tbsp sesame seeds (optional)</div><div style="text-align: left;">For the Sauce</div><div style="text-align: left;">2 tablespoons light soy sauce</div><div style="text-align: left;">1 1/2 teaspoons Chinkiang (brown rice) vinegar</div><div style="text-align: left;">1 1/2 teaspoons sugar</div></div><div style="text-align: left;">2 tbsp chilli oil</div><div style="text-align: left;">1/2 tsp ground Sichuan pepper</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: left;">Cut or tear the chicken as evenly as possible into bite-sized strips or slivers and place them in a deep bowl. Cut the spring onions at a steep angle into thin slices. Mix them and the salt with the chicken.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Combine all the sauce ingredients in a small bowl.</div><div style="text-align: left;">When you are ready to eat, pour the sauce over the chicken, and mix well with chopsticks.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Arrange on a serving dish and sprinkle with sesame seeds, if desired.</div></div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjgNGzN3ABmZ6-ClTYkk-G16BDsU_TEQObffe4gjl3QDxzhez_bYJzXj9tQw0gtRFwWGrY00XAs1pBZlt4w7oyyAKhvyYPaJbGDmlZgUBv_FdUa55yIL_OVBhyphenhyphenpNbAgadvCSFmdv7Px6i-/s4032/20200722_193027.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjgNGzN3ABmZ6-ClTYkk-G16BDsU_TEQObffe4gjl3QDxzhez_bYJzXj9tQw0gtRFwWGrY00XAs1pBZlt4w7oyyAKhvyYPaJbGDmlZgUBv_FdUa55yIL_OVBhyphenhyphenpNbAgadvCSFmdv7Px6i-/w400-h300/20200722_193027.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">The last cucumber that we harvested from the plant that was 'allowed' to grow in our living room - I was under the firm impression it was going out onto the patio once it started to bear fruit. But apparently it was more delicate than I am, and never actually made it - was celebrated by being turned into, the now ubiquitous, 'smacked' cucumber. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: left;">After gently bashing the whole cucumber with a rolling pin until it softens and splits (helping it soak up the dressing), chop diagonally into chunks, place in a colander with a tablespoon of salt and leave over the sink for 15 minutes to allow some of the excess water to drain away. Rinse any excess salt off the cucumber, dry briefly and place in to a bowl. then toss with chilli oil, brown rice vinegar, light soy sauce, a clove of crushed garlic (the recipe specifies three, so add more if you want a very garlicky hit, Perfect if you are working at home right now), a pinch of Sichuan peeper and a little caster sugar to taste. A very fitting ending for our final curcubit.</div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY60MhljEWW6uw_WpaYOgqE8nVnvJEcfRHzdEQEyp7d39lfzfEwh6mjgc7dRP8qXiwaXWdgXBuR7J-5DsBCdUjaaXlYXBXvQuKCeLYgzr3Dcl3pNcHkp6n3TGw9qjaTxqbdQ4WHzm6g1ft/s4032/20200722_192532.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY60MhljEWW6uw_WpaYOgqE8nVnvJEcfRHzdEQEyp7d39lfzfEwh6mjgc7dRP8qXiwaXWdgXBuR7J-5DsBCdUjaaXlYXBXvQuKCeLYgzr3Dcl3pNcHkp6n3TGw9qjaTxqbdQ4WHzm6g1ft/w400-h300/20200722_192532.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">The dish I was most excited about was the stir-fried potato slivers with chilli and Sichuan pepper. The raw potato is shredded very finely before being stir-fried and served, as a revelation to most westerners, while it still has a slight bite. In Sichuan cuisine this is the most popular way of treating a tuber, and while I'd seen it several times on menus before, the predictable big hitters always got the nod over the humble spud.</div><div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxeRM0gtQFdWIym8T4SzJqnWkxxZhpYHvMlE8cY75-XwwvuWxl2Xkxznb6fO-HBssCVh0O69QI55F-LAA5Y4kEJRlF2Nsl4Y74Dp70p01F67W2NopbW4xSXpBQJwMccGURpuSZDkR91bNU/s4032/20200722_193413.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxeRM0gtQFdWIym8T4SzJqnWkxxZhpYHvMlE8cY75-XwwvuWxl2Xkxznb6fO-HBssCVh0O69QI55F-LAA5Y4kEJRlF2Nsl4Y74Dp70p01F67W2NopbW4xSXpBQJwMccGURpuSZDkR91bNU/w400-h300/20200722_193413.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">While cutting the potatoes (homegrown, dug fresh from the allotment, natch) so finely was something of a labour of love, there was also something rather soothing about it. And the rest of the dish was a cinch to throw together - heat some oil in a wok, toss in dried chillies and Sichuan peppercorns, then add the spuds (I used four medium-sized waxy ones that I had sliced and then soaked in cold water to remove some of the starch) and stir fry until the potatoes have a slight bite. Season to taste and try to serve while hot. While juggling all your other dishes. Hopefully while still keeping your sanity. </div><div><br /></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15971416625448882965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8542790023139677056.post-68001334824110791162020-08-16T16:15:00.000+01:002020-08-16T16:15:18.437+01:00week 29 - The Barbecue Bible - Steven Raichlen<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQJmuVmyFdLUcszO8N-5SJnzW6o5iDgt1iRVcsDXrM-8RNzkwrrZLB_tBj-ywzT0qaD9SbE-S2i-pof5IhjVAz_kh0ke2t6wrcCJb4OdrJroQrWBo_0BmHSP2ZceD9iIBHGZTHChu0S-rM/s4032/20200718_185002.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQJmuVmyFdLUcszO8N-5SJnzW6o5iDgt1iRVcsDXrM-8RNzkwrrZLB_tBj-ywzT0qaD9SbE-S2i-pof5IhjVAz_kh0ke2t6wrcCJb4OdrJroQrWBo_0BmHSP2ZceD9iIBHGZTHChu0S-rM/w400-h300/20200718_185002.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">Apart from briefly developing a dangerous online shopping habit - natural wine, posh hand cream and boxes of British cheeses being delivered to the door seemed pretty essential purchases when you can only leave the house once a day - our one big purchase over the summer was a new gas barbecue grill. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Bought after our summer holiday was cancelled (as it turns out at a greater expense than our return flights...) after the Ewing pointed out that if we were going to be at home for the foreseeable future, we might as well give ourselves an incentive to enjoy being here. She also pointed out my ambivalent attitude towards cleaning the previous two crappy charcoal barbecues (although I did manage to painstakingly <a href="https://piesandfries.blogspot.com/2012/08/roscoes-root-beer-ribs.html">smoke some ribs</a> and brisket while using one) and gas might be an easier option.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-YBrlyyPPZJV8XoDlrt1f6zW0KyQFcqYf14kjTZXJP3saRK-5t7iUD7x9vShqcupdg43ZG5ee563SOrw1NJ7_b3qcW7Tpd_4BmWq34civ0hW76lLsMZjao0posFKWer0atJNHVgAvnpfC/s4032/20200718_164017.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-YBrlyyPPZJV8XoDlrt1f6zW0KyQFcqYf14kjTZXJP3saRK-5t7iUD7x9vShqcupdg43ZG5ee563SOrw1NJ7_b3qcW7Tpd_4BmWq34civ0hW76lLsMZjao0posFKWer0atJNHVgAvnpfC/w400-h300/20200718_164017.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">While the principled chef in me put up a half-hearted objection, I remember having a gas grill at home growing up, and the ease with which my dad would get home from work, stick it on, down a cold 33 lager, and then cook a butterflied leg of lamb or some fresh mackerel for dinner on most days during the summer. Living in England I have fond memories of him clutching a golf umbrella on several occasions, as the heavens opened just after the food hit the grill.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">While some recipes demand low and slow smoking, most barbecue recipes can easily be adapted to gas, without a discernible difference in taste and much less mess and fuss (spoken by someone who has just spent the weekend camping, charring lumps of beef on a fire while on a camping trip). This adaptability extends to many of the recipes in Steven Raichlen's Barbecue Bible - a tome I'm petty sure I acquired when I didn't even have a garden, much less a barbecue; and which, despite it's brash looking cover, contains a plethora of ideas for things you can stick on the coals from all around the world.</div><div><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsUtC05sWbUdPhz0CBUKOqH3ONAaHdqtfShlhkQRIFhNW3zPzX7crRgStZ6lg5dJVoSmGOv64vOp8xSQh-ZhSIhIaRqUuN3sEKCPkpinhkU0TWzTs7ZIJtdsx3tETN7_ENPb0f1sOK4cGY/s4032/20200718_181850.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsUtC05sWbUdPhz0CBUKOqH3ONAaHdqtfShlhkQRIFhNW3zPzX7crRgStZ6lg5dJVoSmGOv64vOp8xSQh-ZhSIhIaRqUuN3sEKCPkpinhkU0TWzTs7ZIJtdsx3tETN7_ENPb0f1sOK4cGY/w300-h400/20200718_181850.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">I wanted something that would allow me to use my new flat skewers (bought in another mini-online frenzy along with various metal scouring brushes and special cleaning sprays. Which I can report I have actually used...) I also knew I had some local minced lamb in the freezer, from yet another over-excited visit to the farmer's market, and some pistachios in the cupboard from when the Ewing had randomly bought me a bag home as a present. And so Gaziantep kebabs, a kofte style kebab with pistachio nuts - which the Gaziantep area in Turkey, after which they are named, is famous for - made the perfect choice.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNZtFOYctYiCL1mvbC9We8D9aqfFwpCzI2eFbMnn-J0hsXBG-A-aqHUeW16edLKZTQkOdjWq73U0IEei7elazWvuWa3FSzxb5r-_wxUKRZQt3OWkElwP1fGMhMqTvRZRGoezrSGfYu5JK0/s4032/20200718_182535.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNZtFOYctYiCL1mvbC9We8D9aqfFwpCzI2eFbMnn-J0hsXBG-A-aqHUeW16edLKZTQkOdjWq73U0IEei7elazWvuWa3FSzxb5r-_wxUKRZQt3OWkElwP1fGMhMqTvRZRGoezrSGfYu5JK0/w400-h300/20200718_182535.jpg" width="400" /></a></div></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5_4nb4lBMZm35GS9GN7vr1fMHjN7zD1ExfYYXdqKB7PK7mReG19mnI16qOX-Y0UUWZdsgb2wMSdMspJBWsJoTRNGhxbs2k4CyemhS2Q4XawGNm4fwMkKoyBNpm4vOtI4mbVYLbqeHmi23/s4032/20200718_183155.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5_4nb4lBMZm35GS9GN7vr1fMHjN7zD1ExfYYXdqKB7PK7mReG19mnI16qOX-Y0UUWZdsgb2wMSdMspJBWsJoTRNGhxbs2k4CyemhS2Q4XawGNm4fwMkKoyBNpm4vOtI4mbVYLbqeHmi23/w400-h300/20200718_183155.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">Alongside the lamb kebabs I made some quick <a href="Steven Raichlencooking.nytimes.com/recipes/1013233-grilled-lebanese-flatbread">flatbread dough</a> and placed the thinly rolled discs of the dough directly on the barbecue grate. As they puffed up, they were brushed liberally on both sides with the Ewing's wild garlic butter - made from greens the Ewing had foraged at the dog end of spring, chopped and mixed with softened salted butter, rolled into a log and then frozen. And then covered with a clean tea towel so they remained soft until needed. The perfect base for the perfect kebab.</div></div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdvPbvMqmZXpl3zhstkzUAOXEaeplkeYSZNjbXmjMQe149mPWPDGE54HndgeyKUhFk5splgk4Xqzkg1-lI8WEWzjvesIvanU1PdaSWA3S6kUJg5-Y-QbcmlRLm_oqOdrQA07YmHfnvIkB-/s4032/20200718_184330.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdvPbvMqmZXpl3zhstkzUAOXEaeplkeYSZNjbXmjMQe149mPWPDGE54HndgeyKUhFk5splgk4Xqzkg1-lI8WEWzjvesIvanU1PdaSWA3S6kUJg5-Y-QbcmlRLm_oqOdrQA07YmHfnvIkB-/w400-h300/20200718_184330.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Lamb and pistachio kebabs</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Adapted from the Barbecue Bible by Steven Raichlen</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">500g minced lamb</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">100g shelled pistachio nuts, coarsely chopped </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">1 clove garlic, finely chopped</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">1 teaspoon Aleppo pepper or chilli powder</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">½ teaspoon ground cumin</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Salt and freshly ground black pepper, or more to taste</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">4 flat, wide, long metal skewers</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Flatbreads or pitta, yogurt and salad to serve</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Combine the lamb, pistachios, onion, garlic, salt, chilli pepper, cumin, and black pepper in a large bowl. Mix with your hands until thoroughly blended.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I never usually bother, but if you want to test the mixture for seasoning, cook a small amount in a nonstick pan until cooked through, then taste, adding more salt and/or black pepper to the remaining mixture as necessary. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Cover and refrigerate the meat mixture for an hour or two.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Divide the meat mixture into four equal portions. Lightly wet your hands with cold water and mould each portion of the meat mixture around a skewer to form a flattish sausage about 20 cms inches long and 2 cms wide. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Place each finished kebab on a baking sheet.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Switch on your gas grill and preheat to high (you can also grill over charcoal)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">When ready to cook, arrange the kebabs on the grill and turn with tongs until nicely browned and cooked through, 6 to 8 minutes in all. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The fat in the meat and pistachios mean the kebabs may flare up, so it's handy to have a spray bottle of wather handy to douse any flames as needed</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Using a flatbread to protect your hand, slide each kebab off its skewer onto a serving plate. Serve at with flat breads or pitta, yoghurt, tomatoes, red onion, flat leaf parsley and pomegranate seeds</div></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguI6uxpZq0iRJJV5X-7mlCEUxtsYNsQSLKsC98sijppukjr8rf23hVEU4cGZSIqhKtTsDO32eMzQkW74-prH9QlB4ECCIemb6dLnX4H6jLptabioZkZtPnWCIuINS5aV6lRyEuNDz0evzR/s4032/20200718_185744.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguI6uxpZq0iRJJV5X-7mlCEUxtsYNsQSLKsC98sijppukjr8rf23hVEU4cGZSIqhKtTsDO32eMzQkW74-prH9QlB4ECCIemb6dLnX4H6jLptabioZkZtPnWCIuINS5aV6lRyEuNDz0evzR/w400-h300/20200718_185744.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div>Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15971416625448882965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8542790023139677056.post-56247659492926363912020-08-12T20:52:00.000+01:002020-08-12T20:52:00.816+01:00week 28 - Jamie's Italian - Jamie Oliver<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidqeoQno64g_y5xLn7Th9-39QNn-xEDEKNNlmUrRlXAlCZeXBlzRPv9rXt61A6THyck-1JlThTL2Wk_QnbB8Oh1-AMcYRjk2tqNwTTX985l6aE777VUZ08Ytdn_HK4_8QTIFOKAaq8UCqG/s4032/20200713_141850.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidqeoQno64g_y5xLn7Th9-39QNn-xEDEKNNlmUrRlXAlCZeXBlzRPv9rXt61A6THyck-1JlThTL2Wk_QnbB8Oh1-AMcYRjk2tqNwTTX985l6aE777VUZ08Ytdn_HK4_8QTIFOKAaq8UCqG/w400-h300/20200713_141850.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">While it's easy to focus on the all things we had to stop doing, it's also nice to experience some 'firsts' as lockdown has eased. First draft pint beer; first brunch out; first train journey; first time back in the office (who thought that would ever be welcomed). And, best of all, first time seeing family since Christmas; when my aunt, uncle and cousin came down South for a stay.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">In a bittersweet twist, it also coincided with the dates when my sister and family were supposed to be visiting from Oz. But while they couldn't be here, we could at least toast them with a couple of bottles of wine from the vineyard she and my brother-in-law got married in - just outside Sienna - one of which has been under the stairs for the last eight years. Stowed away we managed to get it home intact in our suitcase after celebrating the big day.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw6t-utexReHi5mt0wAnby5JvE_vE53XY-crs3KXk5ZEhaSmz71C1pr-6kEdUIIzAbopG6S8VXs3GNs6cp6QTv7qW7Av5LIRD0uzxLtW3IsrW67t8bcVfKaq8pH7BCRZv48cFoi4kzogdv/s4032/20200713_142228.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw6t-utexReHi5mt0wAnby5JvE_vE53XY-crs3KXk5ZEhaSmz71C1pr-6kEdUIIzAbopG6S8VXs3GNs6cp6QTv7qW7Av5LIRD0uzxLtW3IsrW67t8bcVfKaq8pH7BCRZv48cFoi4kzogdv/w400-h300/20200713_142228.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">To go with the wine I wanted some big Tuscan flavours, and peposo, or hunters stew, made with huge amounts of fresh black pepper and more wine, While took the recipe from Jamie's Italian, a book I first remember first getting when I worked as a bookseller, many moons ago, and living with a vegetarian. Needless to say I never made this, although the recipe I always really wanted to make was the turkey tetrazzini - a kind of retro pasta bake made with spaghetti in a creamy mushroom sauce - perhaps one for next time.</div></div><div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVMuwUNRkErW5lrPtc0R7pkibDprLBn7tJZFCZn7WUYLxHcvtShyd8YNtlJ1FNd0XurVWpORaMzhpZDSy9F-CZpGaPqliqnYViWilCUtiEfM9k4KRm6EWd8n2SR2h29QNa8Zi0N4ArHSsP/s4032/20200626_120053.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVMuwUNRkErW5lrPtc0R7pkibDprLBn7tJZFCZn7WUYLxHcvtShyd8YNtlJ1FNd0XurVWpORaMzhpZDSy9F-CZpGaPqliqnYViWilCUtiEfM9k4KRm6EWd8n2SR2h29QNa8Zi0N4ArHSsP/w400-h300/20200626_120053.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">As well as the black pepper the beef stew is bolstered by garlic; which coincided with the first main crop harvest from the allotment. And we also welcome bit of sunshine that allowed the Ewing to finally dry it out on the patio. </div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The rest of the supporting cast was made up of herbs - bay and rosemary, both from the front garden - a tin of tomatoes (absent in Jamie's recipe but, I think, a welcome addition) and a while bottle of decent (ish) red wine. Italian of course.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC1jhX91MFAHX-MEl1Ixz_5aMXxjIvI8ULavIphmzHU07alGDiiAZWZug-uygmaywDzAFHoKS13qQQ8p9ct-KssvPjWkYwiaMMpAz8Uk48Yo7ag6I0THXgGijRDWvZwkO4qCYI7Dx1wX_5/s2046/20200713_095620-COLLAGE.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1535" data-original-width="2046" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC1jhX91MFAHX-MEl1Ixz_5aMXxjIvI8ULavIphmzHU07alGDiiAZWZug-uygmaywDzAFHoKS13qQQ8p9ct-KssvPjWkYwiaMMpAz8Uk48Yo7ag6I0THXgGijRDWvZwkO4qCYI7Dx1wX_5/w400-h300/20200713_095620-COLLAGE.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">Of course, the beef is the real star of the show. Jamie uses slices of bone in shin, but I went with beef ribs. I think bones always add an extra unctousness when making slow cooked stews, but I also found recipes when I was researching that used boneless chunks of chuck, flank or neck. Just make sure it's not too lean.</div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The execution could not have been simpler. Everything in the pot, and then into the oven to slow cook until the meat falls from the bone and the gravy is rich and glossy. I didn't even brown the meat. Like most stews, this is better the day after. Which also means you can just put it back on the hob to reheat, giving you more time to sit and drink wine with your guests. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4VwTXTHn33Z8soDuoxluWBymRQy4nQRSQ64iPnco9y9cJLZvdz8Pa5xNM-I4s9cWwmcGX1-izF7F73YLuoUQGhg3wkkYeWOMZ3buar8oXN_bzaUrXXx3qxdJTSPGPXIe6s5e6MgwRaI20/s4032/20200713_095906.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4VwTXTHn33Z8soDuoxluWBymRQy4nQRSQ64iPnco9y9cJLZvdz8Pa5xNM-I4s9cWwmcGX1-izF7F73YLuoUQGhg3wkkYeWOMZ3buar8oXN_bzaUrXXx3qxdJTSPGPXIe6s5e6MgwRaI20/w300-h400/20200713_095906.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Peposo - Tuscan beef and black pepper stew</b></div><div style="text-align: left;">Adapted from Jamie's Italy</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">2kg beef on the bone (ribs, or shin) </div><div style="text-align: left;">1 bulb of garlic, unpeeled and broken into cloves</div><div style="text-align: left;">1 tbsp whole peppercorns</div><div style="text-align: left;">1 tsp sea salt</div><div style="text-align: left;">a good grinding of coarsely ground black pepper</div><div style="text-align: left;">one bottle of red wine, preferably Italian, nothing too fancy</div><div style="text-align: left;">3 bay leaves</div><div style="text-align: left;">a couple of sprigs of fresh rosemary</div><div style="text-align: left;">1 tin chopped tomatoes</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Pre-heat the oven to 150c</div><div style="text-align: left;">Place the ribs in a large pot, add all the remaining ingredients, making sure the meat is covered. Put the lid on and place in the oven for about three hours, stirring every half an hour or so, or until the meat is falling from the bones.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Take the meat from the pot and leave to cool.</div><div style="text-align: left;">If the gravy is looking thin, place the pot on the hob and reduce until thickened.</div><div style="text-align: left;">When the meat is cool enough to handle, shred from the bones, removing any pieces of fat or cartilage.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Add the meat back to the thickened gravy.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Best reheated the next day and served with cannelini beans, polenta, mash or crusty bread. Good wine and great company.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgex4NDk7YlEJDT6DhT-GIuLoRgUMsHpGvw2R4KyH704EtOED7yyIC645zCXpua_MZqhAEGJkSkwJAPvdaCIjvqLrpCdvOyrJ13ZCoIF_FTr4SmENkQmv3bITLqxwxdvs3lQ1zejdQuAjmZ/s4032/20200714_222047.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgex4NDk7YlEJDT6DhT-GIuLoRgUMsHpGvw2R4KyH704EtOED7yyIC645zCXpua_MZqhAEGJkSkwJAPvdaCIjvqLrpCdvOyrJ13ZCoIF_FTr4SmENkQmv3bITLqxwxdvs3lQ1zejdQuAjmZ/w400-h300/20200714_222047.jpg" width="400" /></a></div></div></div>Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15971416625448882965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8542790023139677056.post-81595375505378020732020-07-29T23:26:00.001+01:002020-07-29T23:26:48.592+01:00week 27 - Ice Cream Book - Humphry Slocombe<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBV1Fspr3oF1Qn2bT26uGnMjhqxEqJjGB7rtFjvGn3_AyH7yTROXw_lRg8jLBT7ozia03wppFo8l3SlxgdNn1WvwYQLkL3cRRqqX7et8U_cRcdu7_7yWJUePwV5jwKgzqn_JPmFflSiRvr/s4032/20200704_134418.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBV1Fspr3oF1Qn2bT26uGnMjhqxEqJjGB7rtFjvGn3_AyH7yTROXw_lRg8jLBT7ozia03wppFo8l3SlxgdNn1WvwYQLkL3cRRqqX7et8U_cRcdu7_7yWJUePwV5jwKgzqn_JPmFflSiRvr/w400-h300/20200704_134418.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">2020: another week; another ecancelled event; this time Wimbledon. And, although I wouldn't have been queuing in my tent in SW19 to sit on Henman Hill, there's nothing like getting home from work and watching several hours of sweaty sportsmen while sipping Pimms in your pants. To be fair, I don't need the tennis on TV to do that, but you get my point.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: left;">While there might not have been any sport to watch, there were still strawberries to eat. Apparently approximately 27,000 kilos of strawberries are eaten during the Wimbledon Championships, together with 7,000 litres of cream - with many English strawberries grown specifically to be perfectly ripe for those two weeks at the end of June. And I didn't want any to go to waste.</div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOUp-MZyvf7xHHTgQ4JnV8-AMSm5O-NMDNfv298IIb8MbyJzMdOYikjRS9D6EzEaMXr14WxHKEBwMRIXRuqcSHMieHlxTIKOATYz_JQ3COG1psCjHvfFe7TelhfkJsIGdQgud2wjnzR8EC/s4032/20200625_135225.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOUp-MZyvf7xHHTgQ4JnV8-AMSm5O-NMDNfv298IIb8MbyJzMdOYikjRS9D6EzEaMXr14WxHKEBwMRIXRuqcSHMieHlxTIKOATYz_JQ3COG1psCjHvfFe7TelhfkJsIGdQgud2wjnzR8EC/w400-h300/20200625_135225.jpg" width="400" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: left;">Ie cream may not be the first strawberry desert I would normally think of, and it appears that San Francisco-based frozen desert specalists Humphry Slocombe - whose shop we visited on our <a href="https://piesandfries.blogspot.com/2012/07/sf-eats.html">honeymoon</a>, many moons ago - feel the same. Demonstated by the fact heir plain strawberry ice cream is named 'here's your damn strawberry ice cream' and only was only offered for sale in their shop on one occasion, when they had leftovers after making sundaes for SF Pride.</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis6BGanu2hqSm4BdX6o85dnAGm60b0vIYPtKLlZ4cBnByWSchYoxj84wzsqtXOaxLnH-piWvZudt4ouLU7-8zOZiRsl6zZaJaNC6YTJxiEmv8UanBPlSi0DkSBczxZ2EMjltwybOMGWPK3/s4032/20200625_143226.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis6BGanu2hqSm4BdX6o85dnAGm60b0vIYPtKLlZ4cBnByWSchYoxj84wzsqtXOaxLnH-piWvZudt4ouLU7-8zOZiRsl6zZaJaNC6YTJxiEmv8UanBPlSi0DkSBczxZ2EMjltwybOMGWPK3/w400-h300/20200625_143226.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkg3Ftzrd2SWHEjPj7z76n56ophc_ziGkhzZV_Ay7gm_hsJuG_zBp1Acg4k3vO3DwBcuCxAPXQ7F0XFWlZ8U_5yl3WtIInesLSW6q2w4-UA_oC8aW2QwogBLYQTAuWWqemd_UNJDZBUtiD/s4032/20200626_102801.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkg3Ftzrd2SWHEjPj7z76n56ophc_ziGkhzZV_Ay7gm_hsJuG_zBp1Acg4k3vO3DwBcuCxAPXQ7F0XFWlZ8U_5yl3WtIInesLSW6q2w4-UA_oC8aW2QwogBLYQTAuWWqemd_UNJDZBUtiD/w300-h400/20200626_102801.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">While the original recipe has made it into their book, they also offer two alternative, and far jazzier, versions. One with candied black olives and one with candied jalapenos. Although the recipe includes a method to to candy your own chillies I had picked up a jar from our local farmer's market (our favourite place to hang on a Saturday during a pandemic) made locally by the Salsa King. Sweet but with a decent capsaicin kick.</div></div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0jLPQbXbaWHDka9yvwm9MOdArD7I2p42wQeOCAYAtjdWslBpb2AfUlqGg-6DiJX-Pb0FbOwwDUziiubAykI7cijdvkmWkGN2SgBNpnyMWesjVc2mDdmrkbv9UpYZyOEXV2GjJqxm3qrLC/s4032/20200703_155624.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0jLPQbXbaWHDka9yvwm9MOdArD7I2p42wQeOCAYAtjdWslBpb2AfUlqGg-6DiJX-Pb0FbOwwDUziiubAykI7cijdvkmWkGN2SgBNpnyMWesjVc2mDdmrkbv9UpYZyOEXV2GjJqxm3qrLC/w400-h300/20200703_155624.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">Unlike the majority of their recipes this is a no cook, no trouble method that uses simply pureed fruit, double cream and condensed milk The sweetness balanced, like a good fish supper, with a touch of salt and vinegar. It also tastes of berries, rather than the odd chemicals that strawberry ice cream often tastes of.</div></div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn0vmw-9adadNtlQijYJM2CY7qbPlN4ZV3kuniVXf34knwbaqdj8T26AmFJ3a2VfkEhZY-s8lSYwTzbPEBEzRfooA9Q_AvMzb0RzSj1jOs2grZVAg2dfNuS3nVPRYJ82PyWffaolngGXrC/s4032/20200703_164626.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn0vmw-9adadNtlQijYJM2CY7qbPlN4ZV3kuniVXf34knwbaqdj8T26AmFJ3a2VfkEhZY-s8lSYwTzbPEBEzRfooA9Q_AvMzb0RzSj1jOs2grZVAg2dfNuS3nVPRYJ82PyWffaolngGXrC/w400-h300/20200703_164626.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">By pureeing the fruit, as per the recipe, you won't get the mottled appearance of the ice cream in the book, but the chunks of candied chilli add a little extra colour that stops the churning mixture appear quite as disturbing similar to the pink goo that, according to urban legend, McDonald's chicken nuggets are made from. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Best enjoyed heaped in a sugar cone while reclining under a parasol, licking rivulets of melted ice cream as they drip down your wrists in the heat. Or, if you're in England, inside with your nose pressed against the window, dreaming of sunnier afternoons while waiting for the drizzle to stop.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrab5GuCPVEnB8UEBjwAdzv_xzOc-SYtj8EymuJtsExAXqEB2VkzMimUwW08XlPYQF2e_JpCt8888I0ug2mlrUmUx7W0XXY-RZUOe3wMR-S51yPYjgI3FQJwFVovkXxrf4BBU01hcuxsAQ/s1080/IMG_20200704_141424_655.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrab5GuCPVEnB8UEBjwAdzv_xzOc-SYtj8EymuJtsExAXqEB2VkzMimUwW08XlPYQF2e_JpCt8888I0ug2mlrUmUx7W0XXY-RZUOe3wMR-S51yPYjgI3FQJwFVovkXxrf4BBU01hcuxsAQ/w400-h400/IMG_20200704_141424_655.jpg" width="400" /></a></div></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><b>Here’s Your Damn Strawberry Ice Cream with candied jalapenos</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Adapted from the Humphry Slocombe Ice Cream Book</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">500g fresh ripe strawberries, hulled and halved</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">1 1/2 cups double cream </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">1/2 cup whole milk</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">1/2 cup sweetened condensed milk</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">3/4 cup granulated sugar</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">1 tsp salt</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">1 tbsp red wine vinegar</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">1 tbsp chopped candied jalapenos</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Place the strawberries in a blender or food processor and process to a smooth puree. Strain into a bowl using a fine mesh strainer to remove the seeds (you can also leave it unstrained, but your strawberry ice cream won't be as smooth).</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Once the strawberry puree has been strained into the bowl, add the double cream, milk, condensed milk, sugar, salt, and red wine vinegar and whisk together until the sugar has dissolved. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Place the mixture in the fridge for at least an hour, or until throughout chilled (this helps the ice creamy freeze quicker when churning, giving a better texture).</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Transfer the chilled mixture to an ice cream maker and spin according to the manufacturer's instructions. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Just before the ice cream is ready, add the pickled jalepenos and stir through thoroughly.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Eat immediately, or transfer into an airtight container and place in the freezer until fully frozen if you prefer a firmer texture.</div></div>Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15971416625448882965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8542790023139677056.post-25358116920519836132020-07-21T22:35:00.002+01:002020-07-21T22:55:46.908+01:00week 26 - Kitchen Diaries II - Nigel Slater <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAdpyAvS4C84_QsYXQyreEvY0Acy7iYbyzDOGhgvyVHf79qi2Z0VSbQwsx4fb29IdtDtyLiT_jgzBRRPG8YvufajPVgAYsJCevvQlE51H3oipMv1Swa3DuM0Td6SScD0Of7mi54IrarU5d/s4032/20200628_170401.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAdpyAvS4C84_QsYXQyreEvY0Acy7iYbyzDOGhgvyVHf79qi2Z0VSbQwsx4fb29IdtDtyLiT_jgzBRRPG8YvufajPVgAYsJCevvQlE51H3oipMv1Swa3DuM0Td6SScD0Of7mi54IrarU5d/w400-h300/20200628_170401.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The English summer is now in full flow (as I write this while sitting under a blanket) and so we've been spending even more time arguing down at the allotment after work. Thankfully the soft fruits are hitting their peak, and so now the Ewing gets some peace to do 'proper' jobs while I'm distracted, like a sticky fingered-child, by picking said soft fruits. Of which approximately half make it into plastic takeaway containers to take home.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXSN7_nI-tLk7IiOjHo9JUjponloFBXXrSaowdveb-95ESf0DaTN9C2TszvmDg_Xrl3MYN6atlx2roB0Ekck37TQuRizOO7QM6lkw0jHC3qHqtocqJOsXBVtmpgW1BG8DpjjQtr7AWw8-d/s4032/20200626_200810.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXSN7_nI-tLk7IiOjHo9JUjponloFBXXrSaowdveb-95ESf0DaTN9C2TszvmDg_Xrl3MYN6atlx2roB0Ekck37TQuRizOO7QM6lkw0jHC3qHqtocqJOsXBVtmpgW1BG8DpjjQtr7AWw8-d/w400-h300/20200626_200810.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div><div style="text-align: left;">There are blackcurrants, whose leaves I recently plundered for my <a href="https://piesandfries.blogspot.com/2020/06/week-20-gather-cook-feast.html">panna cotta;</a> and gooseberries; and tiny golden raspberries alongside their bigger red cousins. But best of all are the jostaberries - a black currant and gooseberry hybrid - which have been rampantly growing since the Ewing got the allotment and planted them for me, knowing they were two of my favourite fruits. Thank you darling. <i>(Oh, that's ok - TE).</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Like many fruits, they also go perfectly with almonds. Originally I wanted to make a bakewell tart and replace the raspberries with jostaberries, but, leafing through the often overlooked second volume of Nigel Slater's Kitchen Diaries, I realised they would make a great addition to his frangipane and fruit-filled almond tart.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS7_M4IBZh3Eq4RCb3brvtzROFIMMKmJYdUaEJ1wCMWf08NtaoJ9at5E2Gc1owq47xTR8Xr9ZF_-G6jVLnp1V7XnGpwr7q_IyNuuj5gUbqOjXOV36Ozc7ARl7JQ9AcM7-fsIscdCXF_bgQ/s2046/20200625_191409-COLLAGE.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1535" data-original-width="2046" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS7_M4IBZh3Eq4RCb3brvtzROFIMMKmJYdUaEJ1wCMWf08NtaoJ9at5E2Gc1owq47xTR8Xr9ZF_-G6jVLnp1V7XnGpwr7q_IyNuuj5gUbqOjXOV36Ozc7ARl7JQ9AcM7-fsIscdCXF_bgQ/w400-h300/20200625_191409-COLLAGE.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">Additionally, as well as tasting great, jostaberries lack the vicious thorns of a gooseberry bush and are bigger than blackcurrants, making them very easy and much more satisfying to pick. Even someone with no patience, like me, can fill a tub (and their face) in no time at all.</div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I keep thinking the leftover berries would make a great flavoured vodka, or gin, but I never seem to have enough leftover to try it. Maybe this year....</div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcrY7oGOLrzzSo0VSBMW_-WuYd4HrXooaFs8PhAeN_Y8qQmYMvD_A81OuHJto4oC-dI8dgVG5QFdYZRO6rsnQYmfJkYnTPeFFRbNb9jw6DSWZUKhunuhAgZU78owZQuW2CWpEfmHPL1-Pg/s4032/20200628_110254.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcrY7oGOLrzzSo0VSBMW_-WuYd4HrXooaFs8PhAeN_Y8qQmYMvD_A81OuHJto4oC-dI8dgVG5QFdYZRO6rsnQYmfJkYnTPeFFRbNb9jw6DSWZUKhunuhAgZU78owZQuW2CWpEfmHPL1-Pg/w400-h300/20200628_110254.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">Although I have given the frangipane recipe from Nige's book below, I have to confess I used leftover frangipane that the Ewing had frozen after making <a href="https://piesandfries.blogspot.com/2020/03/week-7-bourke-street-bakery-ultimate.html">rhubarb danishes</a> for me way back in March. Which we unearthed after doing one of our 'can't fit anything in the freezer' clear outs, which were supposed to have become less frequent during lock down but still happen with a predictable regularity. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">It turns out that frangipane freezes remarkably well, and I can also heartily recommend adding a slug of Grand Marnier and a dash of almond extract, if you have it.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwckcKkHTeBeJKUEDuXRuOZhBLfTfiRKInLWW0Z_ckP_peaPph95HqfA5wS2ViIrqFKJyyCYfLyGmDM3qacba2TNPeBGfW4kh_igUh_LgDD95e6OeOC7N8z1aL5RnoX6BgMJ1oxu7dGC4Z/s2046/20200628_112618-COLLAGE.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1535" data-original-width="2046" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwckcKkHTeBeJKUEDuXRuOZhBLfTfiRKInLWW0Z_ckP_peaPph95HqfA5wS2ViIrqFKJyyCYfLyGmDM3qacba2TNPeBGfW4kh_igUh_LgDD95e6OeOC7N8z1aL5RnoX6BgMJ1oxu7dGC4Z/w400-h300/20200628_112618-COLLAGE.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">My hot hands, combined with all the careful measuring that baking involves, make pastry a bit chore but I followed the recipe for the shortcrust faithfully (even though my tin was a little larger than the one specified) and it was glorious. Short, buttery and no hint of a soggy bottom. While I made it (honest), the Ewing was roped in to roll it out and line the tin. Thank you darling. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo6oWkmEKmeaIK0NnXM36FqabmTokk1hdR1xGTfIOgUKxJYOGdXJiTvhCJbEwa5hA_EVsIeMd5Myg91539i83yv3dhNYlbKKVjp8wlcVvZDyKWN-gUiy3zh7j6vexB4y7D-BIxnll0HN0F/s3873/20200628_122340.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2905" data-original-width="3873" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo6oWkmEKmeaIK0NnXM36FqabmTokk1hdR1xGTfIOgUKxJYOGdXJiTvhCJbEwa5hA_EVsIeMd5Myg91539i83yv3dhNYlbKKVjp8wlcVvZDyKWN-gUiy3zh7j6vexB4y7D-BIxnll0HN0F/w400-h300/20200628_122340.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Jostaberry and almond frangipane tart</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Adapted from the Kitchen Diaries II</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Pastry</div><div style="text-align: left;">200g flour </div><div style="text-align: left;">100g butter</div><div style="text-align: left;">1 egg yolk </div><div style="text-align: left;">Ice cold water </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Frangipane</div><div style="text-align: left;">100g butter </div><div style="text-align: left;">125g caster sugar </div><div style="text-align: left;">2 eggs</div><div style="text-align: left;">125g ground almonds </div><div style="text-align: left;">60g plain flour</div><div style="text-align: left;">Good splash of Grand Marnier (optional)</div><div style="text-align: left;">1 tsp almond essence (optional)</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Large handful of jostaberries or blackcurrants</div><div style="text-align: left;">small handful of untoasted slivered or flaked almonds</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Icing sugar to dust (optional)</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">You will also need:</div><div style="text-align: left;">a round 22cm loose-bottomed tart tin at least 3.5cm deep</div><div style="text-align: left;">beans for baking blind</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Put the flour and butter, cut into small pieces, into the bowl of a food processor. Add a pinch of salt and blitz to fine breadcrumbs. Add the egg yolk and enough water to bring the dough to a firm ball. The less you add the better, as too much will cause your pastry case to shrink in the oven.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Put the pastry in the fridge to rest for at least 30 mins and up to 24 hours.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Heat the oven to 200C. Put a baking sheet in the oven to warm. </div><div><div style="text-align: left;">Pat the pastry into a flat round on a floured surface, then roll out large enough to line the tart tin. Lightly butter the tin, dust it with a small amount of flour, shake off any surplus then lower in the round of pastry. Push the dough right into the corner where the rim joins the base without stretching the pastry. Make certain there are no holes or tears. Trim the overhanging pastry.</div><div><div style="text-align: left;">Line the pastry case with kitchen foil or baking parchment and baking beans and slide on to the hot baking sheet. Bake for 20 minutes, then remove from the oven and carefully lift the beans out. Return the pastry case to the oven for 5 minutes or so, until the surface is dry to the touch. Remove from the oven and set aside. </div><div style="text-align: left;">Turn the oven down to 160C, and return the baking sheet to the oven.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">To make the filling, using a food mixer cream the butter and sugar together till pale and fluffy. Lower the speed, then mix in the eggs and then slowly fold in the ground almonds and flour. Spoon the almond filling into the cooked pastry case, smoothing it lightly with the back of the spoon.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Scatter the fruit on top of the almond filling and sprinkle almonds in the gaps. </div><div style="text-align: left;">Slide the tart on to the hot baking sheet and bake for 40 minutes till the filling is well risen and golden brown. </div><div style="text-align: left;">Remove the tart from the oven, dust with icing sugar if you'd like, and allow to cool slightly before serving. Preferably with double cream.</div></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZCweC8dX2L5gqWEkTXqqX7FLZEZC59G-qnmCWXhcYFskvdjw4tFhfNhTTW48hd8tz2YpSZL79ipGMDc1cAbyBqnu1dsqd2EMPXAPTlEl9sgNt1GGiINLI_SPPB9hG9PAyO3l81c3R7xni/s4032/20200628_171125.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZCweC8dX2L5gqWEkTXqqX7FLZEZC59G-qnmCWXhcYFskvdjw4tFhfNhTTW48hd8tz2YpSZL79ipGMDc1cAbyBqnu1dsqd2EMPXAPTlEl9sgNt1GGiINLI_SPPB9hG9PAyO3l81c3R7xni/w400-h300/20200628_171125.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div></div></div></div>Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15971416625448882965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8542790023139677056.post-32348937163429384332020-07-19T21:43:00.000+01:002020-07-19T21:43:34.805+01:00week 25 - Flavour Thesaurus - Niki Segnit<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_LmoPOEfrtnkCbspjiGESPLAEM6XT2_30ySjNHo88EJOOGqfzS4ZGz0w9xN01sjV7-fWeq5Ce_CMDoJNsyHMeBH-5Dgn9Hkmjf0lwuX0dToDm8V_w3fAFAX-m7eV-77lGHInxV9eUNup-/s4032/20200621_181637.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_LmoPOEfrtnkCbspjiGESPLAEM6XT2_30ySjNHo88EJOOGqfzS4ZGz0w9xN01sjV7-fWeq5Ce_CMDoJNsyHMeBH-5Dgn9Hkmjf0lwuX0dToDm8V_w3fAFAX-m7eV-77lGHInxV9eUNup-/w400-h300/20200621_181637.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">One of my favourite cookbooks isn't really a cookbook at all. Instead, Nikki Segnit's flavour thesaurus is a wheel of different ingredients that have been paired up with each other to create different flavour combinations. Ranging from the well-known classics - avocado and bacon; cherry and coconut - to the 'well, I would never thought of trying that', combos like banana and parsnip; and lamb and rhubarb.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7EJvHlMqsrthr3VMRoJK2TDzsBMeD2q2VxY7yhtQykRMCNQ3gn5wI3ohiaBkNwssWrJO90StPWjZAJHhjf5Gn9N2mbkq1jh8QSYZtgr6yv7so9TJyc6_f0UeV0xB1O13Qw9It_98BodY2/s4032/20200621_135626.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7EJvHlMqsrthr3VMRoJK2TDzsBMeD2q2VxY7yhtQykRMCNQ3gn5wI3ohiaBkNwssWrJO90StPWjZAJHhjf5Gn9N2mbkq1jh8QSYZtgr6yv7so9TJyc6_f0UeV0xB1O13Qw9It_98BodY2/w400-h300/20200621_135626.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">As well as suggestions and anecdotes under each pairing, the book is also peppered with recipes - some barely more than suggestions, some with more careful methods and measurements. In fact, one of the best uses for a tin of corned beef - the trashy yet transcendent big mac pie - has already featured on this very blog.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">This time I wanted to keep it slightly classier, and turned to a half a dozen flavour match-ups in three different dishes, all with a South East Asian vibe. Som tam salad, featuring mango and apple; and tomato and peanut. A nuoc cham dipping sauce with lime and anchovy; and garlic and chilli. And finally, a pad krapow stir fry with pork and anise; and basil and clove </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiNUMXMxMvg3Ok43uwj0PmB7qLhfLaW-X_8yyZ8kH8FJPJG-9A8WLDTFVLQNJ76UYuas0BuvdLHu9bp-9_OqU4d0mkRf6CCW3bH5C7rhiHz8mTzJKFErJU_O8pTzla7MIZ08dMbsNCWuvK/s4032/20200621_181606.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiNUMXMxMvg3Ok43uwj0PmB7qLhfLaW-X_8yyZ8kH8FJPJG-9A8WLDTFVLQNJ76UYuas0BuvdLHu9bp-9_OqU4d0mkRf6CCW3bH5C7rhiHz8mTzJKFErJU_O8pTzla7MIZ08dMbsNCWuvK/w400-h300/20200621_181606.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">Som tam - a green papaya salad originating from Laos, and also ubiquitous across Thailand - is one of the Ewing's (and my) favourite salads. There are multiple different variations but, at it's core, it perfectly balances salt, sweet, sour and spicy in a way which often characterises South East Asian dishes. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">While there are popular versions featuring salted crab or shrimp, banana blossoms and fermented sausages, this version uses green apple in place of the mango/papaya, as well as peanuts, green beans and cherry tomatoes. Although I did also add a little shredded supermarket mango as well, which are often sold on the unripe side and therefore perfect for this dish.</div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Som Tam</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Adapted from the Flavour Thesaurus</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">handful of green beans, topped and tailed and cut in half</div><div style="text-align: left;">2 tbsp roasted peanuts, roughly crushed</div><div style="text-align: left;">1 granny smith</div><div style="text-align: left;">1/2 green mango (or another granny smith)</div><div style="text-align: left;">10 cherry tomatoes, halved</div><div style="text-align: left;">Juice of half a lime</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Blanch the green beans in boiling water for about three minutes. Refresh in cold water.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Finely julienne or grate the apple and mango (I've got a <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Peeler-Vegetable-Shredder-Perfect-Preparation/dp/B00JKQDLFQ/ref=asc_df_B00JKQDLFQ/?tag=googshopuk-21&linkCode=df0&hvadid=291998675213&hvpos=&hvnetw=g&hvrand=4673845259345003048&hvpone=&hvptwo=&hvqmt=&hvdev=c&hvdvcmdl=&hvlocint=&hvlocphy=1006798&hvtargid=pla-716140538574&psc=1&language=en_GB">fancy peeler</a> just for the job, which can also be used to make great remoulade). Mix with the lime juice to prevent discoloration.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Mix the shredded veg with the tomatoes, peanuts and beans and season with nuoc cham dressing (recipe below).</div><div style="text-align: left;">Serve immediately.</div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKj3Mt_sGAQlx0vmp0mZX8FYkrWC0-nPmPiJX9U-hJ9246Yopbp0qzkEVpE-7faJVESez2qRpDeUQ9LY5xkKIetOkTSihbdzNd9-sL6_fdOBPKgxV3oSO6-XU2Au6JVk9fVqhNuYtDCq8U/s4032/20200621_170442.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKj3Mt_sGAQlx0vmp0mZX8FYkrWC0-nPmPiJX9U-hJ9246Yopbp0qzkEVpE-7faJVESez2qRpDeUQ9LY5xkKIetOkTSihbdzNd9-sL6_fdOBPKgxV3oSO6-XU2Au6JVk9fVqhNuYtDCq8U/w300-h400/20200621_170442.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Nuoc Cham</b></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Adapted from the Flavour Thesaurus </b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">1 red chilli</div><div style="text-align: left;">2 garlic cloves</div><div style="text-align: left;">2 tbsp lime juice</div><div style="text-align: left;">2 tbsp fish sauce</div><div style="text-align: left;">1 tbsp palm sugar</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Pound the garlic and chilli in a pestle and mortar.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Add the lime juice, sugar and fish sauce.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Taste and adjust as needed.</div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYpzBUxnf-hgfxjmpj1te_8Hsqco8-5Xdd8Sfnj3zpYKfImRZm0ey1i3TNvHkOQfkhpztPU71kkpjplDrRB-aLyn7uJuYTSvG6hA47eERr60OU4_NWxrkxVNW3o6zlI8oCGzByN846WgJm/s4032/20200621_181039.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYpzBUxnf-hgfxjmpj1te_8Hsqco8-5Xdd8Sfnj3zpYKfImRZm0ey1i3TNvHkOQfkhpztPU71kkpjplDrRB-aLyn7uJuYTSvG6hA47eERr60OU4_NWxrkxVNW3o6zlI8oCGzByN846WgJm/w400-h300/20200621_181039.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Finally there was Pad Kaprow - a deceptively simple stir fry featuring handfuls of heady anise-scented thai basil along with garlic, fish sauce, chilli and sugar. This version was made with pork mince, but chicken, beef or squid are also popular. Traditionally served with jasmine rice and often crowned with a fried egg, it remains one of the most popular dishes in Thai cuisine and for good reason. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">In fact, way back when my Dad owned a Thai restaurant, this was the dish I would always ask him to bring home. With seafood, if I was very lucky, but any version was a treat. And even better if you found some at the back of the fridge for breakfast.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKFg671rCSqvEGLJeAbeP6Kxsb1kYlnEvAy3mKNpGICT9tMS6iQozm7CnzPn8PjVUezu7gI9ApQVY2ZsBxn9_tb14jfVo7sJv5MzPDD1A2jxYTmwNmyA4qbHCJrb3vkTv8XryBqqmXRfTD/s4032/20200621_181834.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKFg671rCSqvEGLJeAbeP6Kxsb1kYlnEvAy3mKNpGICT9tMS6iQozm7CnzPn8PjVUezu7gI9ApQVY2ZsBxn9_tb14jfVo7sJv5MzPDD1A2jxYTmwNmyA4qbHCJrb3vkTv8XryBqqmXRfTD/w300-h400/20200621_181834.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Pad krapow</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Adapted from the Flavour Thesaurus</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">3 cloves of garlic, peeled</div><div style="text-align: left;">2 red chillies </div><div style="text-align: left;">2 tbsp neutral-tasting oil</div><div style="text-align: left;">500g minced pork, beef or chicken</div><div style="text-align: left;">1 tbsp light soy sauce</div><div style="text-align: left;">1 tbsp dark soy sauce (or use 2 tbsp of whichever soy you have)</div><div style="text-align: left;">1 tsp sugar (palm sugar, if you have it) </div><div style="text-align: left;">1 tbsp of fish sauce</div><div style="text-align: left;">handful of holy basil leaves (available in Sainsburys and Waitrose, as well as many Asian grocers)</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Crush the garlic and one of the chillies in a pestle and mortar.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Add the oil to a wok and heat on a high heat.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Add the garlic/chilli paste and cook for 30 seconds</div><div style="text-align: left;">Add the minced meat and stir fry until nearly cooked. </div><div style="text-align: left;">Add soy sauce, fish sauce, sugar and holy basil leaves and cook for another minute or so, or until the meat is cooked.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Finish with the second red chilli, chopped into rings.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Serve with steamed jasmine rice. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div>Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15971416625448882965noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8542790023139677056.post-48093780569975482902020-07-07T21:11:00.001+01:002020-07-07T21:11:37.837+01:00week 24 - My Lisbon - Nuno Mendes<div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4V9VKeQSjS1kIp93xWpBzItiln9JWEi_BMh8K-rlUbiDmDc_3AuwdQFCxvAOTyJ0xUZrjzdSkgWzyONTF0l3-QTC3zqtlWegb0IYjs5HvK2KAX_BsR8kA_DgrQuCZfcBfmJodaALN8SS5/s4032/20200616_195236.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4V9VKeQSjS1kIp93xWpBzItiln9JWEi_BMh8K-rlUbiDmDc_3AuwdQFCxvAOTyJ0xUZrjzdSkgWzyONTF0l3-QTC3zqtlWegb0IYjs5HvK2KAX_BsR8kA_DgrQuCZfcBfmJodaALN8SS5/w400-h300/20200616_195236.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">While the world is a very different place to the one we knew six months ago in many ways, for the the Ewing and I at least, life has rolled on by without too much upheaval. We're lucky to both be working - albeit from home - and to both be busy at work (although it's sometimes hard to feel fortunate about that...). And while many plans have been cancelled, or postponed, and we haven't seen any of our family and friends for the last three months - save for two recent, socially distanced meet ups with one of my oldest mates, and the Ewing leaving supplies on her parent's gate post - this week things really hit home.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1jIm7pL3tcqS52PlJVPm6iIOIA7AGnQGQqctfOvgpxi8PGctBz0UQ5eR9iWCTkLSrNiN0pndWXNrNxNhwFgR1E1WAdYGnkbs7wN8uF9WZdV_aVSmUHtmdbeUWLdxrlK7Y3vB84skZiRbl/s4032/20200614_170018.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1jIm7pL3tcqS52PlJVPm6iIOIA7AGnQGQqctfOvgpxi8PGctBz0UQ5eR9iWCTkLSrNiN0pndWXNrNxNhwFgR1E1WAdYGnkbs7wN8uF9WZdV_aVSmUHtmdbeUWLdxrlK7Y3vB84skZiRbl/w400-h300/20200614_170018.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This week we were supposed to be going to the Algarve for a few days with my Dad - who was due to visit from Australia, where he now lives - and then take a trip over the border to Seville for some R&R with my wife <i>(WHO is she? - TE)</i>. Of course, far more tragic losses and upheaval have been experienced over the past weeks than the fact we couldn't have a few days eating custard tarts and drinking vinho verde, but realising that we weren't going to make it to Iberia in June, and we weren't going to see my Dad at all this year, did feel like a bit of a blow.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9GooGKz-WD7XE3aT3CQLSriNU_j9-7USkIl0AXzAl11Sn2aDgNkdom_2c8mnZoQrZFNasx604HjYc_diUdjZrTNZllxZ8Gw0aeXSvzsIk79SHc9sjoHnnT_AUklk0LqJRUn6NyF7d4Dt1/s4032/20200610_132450.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9GooGKz-WD7XE3aT3CQLSriNU_j9-7USkIl0AXzAl11Sn2aDgNkdom_2c8mnZoQrZFNasx604HjYc_diUdjZrTNZllxZ8Gw0aeXSvzsIk79SHc9sjoHnnT_AUklk0LqJRUn6NyF7d4Dt1/w300-h400/20200610_132450.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Of course, the one thing we could do was try to create that holiday vibe from the comfort of home. (while managing to pick the week were the weather broke and it actually rained for the first time in forever...). And so I ordered Nuno Mendes - chef of Chiltern Firehouse fame - 'My Lisbon'. His celebration of the traditional Portuguese dishes he grew up eating - and, after taking holidays in the Algarve every year as a child, I remember well, too - while the Ewing scoured the supermarket for Portuguese wine.</div></div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfzTGzslR-Ng8oFbGYHHH2gpuIc4ww_sWdRw66FwhOSYkHTsKJDTXfoSrSyt3yXJhWk1ljUmRElkr3hwNGWTahlOXHzieyCNS7rqhBWpJhpwhkT_iajHauqc9vaUKYfgeBLiyx77L4Jzlb/s4032/20200611_191617.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfzTGzslR-Ng8oFbGYHHH2gpuIc4ww_sWdRw66FwhOSYkHTsKJDTXfoSrSyt3yXJhWk1ljUmRElkr3hwNGWTahlOXHzieyCNS7rqhBWpJhpwhkT_iajHauqc9vaUKYfgeBLiyx77L4Jzlb/w300-h400/20200611_191617.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">As well as drowning our sorrows, I also made <a href="Carne de porco à alentejana">Carne de porco à alentejana</a>, or pork with clams. Despite being faintly weirded out by the idea of the live clams being in the fridge overnight (and even getting up just to check they hadn't drowned - (<i>They live in water the whole time!!! - TE)</i>) this was pretty simple to chuck together. Although I did use a hefty glug of piri piri sauce at the end just to jazz it up a little bit. Or possibly that's just my jaded palette after annihilating it with chilli over the years.</div></div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKMLNRW8-nUzQFwpRLZu_sZ2d1nPOhxub4CCoy9pwEMVta9uBZoow7gK-Bv87XCYXQz9eJyjtIJoRVOeF6bit0_KBBDslPjUHJScogGpc78WK14V15_bP1uUwKYBHl1bOmKqU98sn5GGpW/s4032/20200610_194920.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKMLNRW8-nUzQFwpRLZu_sZ2d1nPOhxub4CCoy9pwEMVta9uBZoow7gK-Bv87XCYXQz9eJyjtIJoRVOeF6bit0_KBBDslPjUHJScogGpc78WK14V15_bP1uUwKYBHl1bOmKqU98sn5GGpW/w400-h300/20200610_194920.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">There was also a batch of warm <a href="https://www.countryandtownhouse.co.uk/food-and-drink/recipe-portuguese-custard-tarts/">custard tarts</a> with cinnamon caramel that tested our marriage and were almost worth it, if not a patch on the ones you can buy from the Pingo Doce supermarket that is just down the road from the apartment we were supposed to stay at in the Algarve. Although we did discover a little Portuguese supermarket just off the Headington Roundabout in Oxford during our few days off work that sold excellent bica and bola arroz.</div></div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3MyZZ6zZxbf2qMGdd51GCprqoON8wnFcH8zPL8XaJ8sG23OLtr-GVimktnjyP89k1SoEH6HYejpWaKq50zMJtSjy4Fua6Db1MmKBnVO0Lw0RBt-pXkc5nYkMfVlSZDZwhsLftL7v4hnqc/s4032/20200616_184333.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3MyZZ6zZxbf2qMGdd51GCprqoON8wnFcH8zPL8XaJ8sG23OLtr-GVimktnjyP89k1SoEH6HYejpWaKq50zMJtSjy4Fua6Db1MmKBnVO0Lw0RBt-pXkc5nYkMfVlSZDZwhsLftL7v4hnqc/w400-h300/20200616_184333.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">The pièce de résistance of my week of Iberian cooking was Polvo à lagareiro com batata a murro, or octopus with 'punched' potatoes. The octopus, which thankfully came ready boiled, was pretty good, but the potatoes, covered in the coriander (I also learnt that Portugal is the only country in Europe that uses coriander in its cuisine) pesto, were even better.</div></div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvEikwz6Zt1ohnOJ7UUeH3NmP9TDLhdC-YANlq6NB4bmdhQitlYY24III6GXkxOGPuvuMZZAdOt87Er9ffOXui2hZwCQ8O5By-PXUqJycRfYfW7s_ICapdzftrLGmVuFpPnpxgEWM81yTS/s4032/20200616_195048.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvEikwz6Zt1ohnOJ7UUeH3NmP9TDLhdC-YANlq6NB4bmdhQitlYY24III6GXkxOGPuvuMZZAdOt87Er9ffOXui2hZwCQ8O5By-PXUqJycRfYfW7s_ICapdzftrLGmVuFpPnpxgEWM81yTS/w400-h300/20200616_195048.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Octopus with smashed potatoes, olive oil and piso</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><b>Polvo à lagareiro com batata a murro</b></i></div></div><div style="text-align: left;">Serves 4</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">600g boiled octopus tentacles, cut into large chunks</div><div style="text-align: left;">For the piso</div><div style="text-align: left;">a bunch coriander</div><div style="text-align: left;">1/2 garlic clove</div><div style="text-align: left;">1 lemon, finely zested and juiced</div><div style="text-align: left;">3 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil, plus extra for drizzling</div><div style="text-align: left;">For the potatoes</div><div style="text-align: left;">8-12<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>floury potatoes, such as Maris Piper or similar, skin on</div><div style="text-align: left;">olive oil</div><div style="text-align: left;">2 bay leaves</div><div style="text-align: left;">4 garlic cloves, smashed</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">To make the piso — Mix together the coriander, garlic, lemon juice and lemon zest with a generous pinch of salt and pepper until you have a paste. Nuno recommends a pestle and mortar, but I used the Nutribullet. Stir in the olive oil. It will keep in the fridge for a few days with an extra glug of olive oil on top.</div><div style="text-align: left;">To make the smashed potatoes — Preheat the oven to 210°C. Cook the potatoes in plenty of salted boiling water until just tender but not breaking up. Remove from the pan, drain well and leave until cool enough to handle. </div><div style="text-align: left;">Murro means ‘punch’ in Portuguese, so press each one gently with the palm of your hand. Toss them in a bowl with the olive oil, bay leaves and garlic and season with salt and pepper. </div><div style="text-align: left;">Put them in a large baking dish (big enough to hold the octopus too) and bake for 30 minutes, or until golden brown and crispy.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Drizzle the octopus with extra-virgin olive oil and put the pieces on top of the potatoes. Increase the oven temperature to 220°C and cook for about 20 minutes, or until the octopus has lovely crispy edges. (The bbq would work well here, too)</div><div style="text-align: left;">Drizzle with the piso, and serve in the baking dish for everyone to help themselves.</div><div><br /></div>Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15971416625448882965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8542790023139677056.post-69432667918558912012020-07-04T20:29:00.000+01:002020-07-04T20:29:18.497+01:00week 23 - Bocca - Jacob Kennedy<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkNoJs5KxGJ4r2dYIXTKAZ4e_fyg11dq7A9DkIoc1yp0aLvdmlYTy76XDsnp31na9Jmz2MFKn-BNDQhFTPxu6EaaMpXuqpn4i0RHN6trtI0EhgwKRXYQ_BTWxGtmeWS_RAbid4zdWGf-Ws/s4032/20200606_201606.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkNoJs5KxGJ4r2dYIXTKAZ4e_fyg11dq7A9DkIoc1yp0aLvdmlYTy76XDsnp31na9Jmz2MFKn-BNDQhFTPxu6EaaMpXuqpn4i0RHN6trtI0EhgwKRXYQ_BTWxGtmeWS_RAbid4zdWGf-Ws/w400-h300/20200606_201606.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After my lofty ambitions following the last #cookbookchallenge, this week I dialled it back and just made a bowl of pasta. Orecchiette with n'duja, red onion, tomato and rocket, to be precise. Well, I say just a bowl of pasta, but (of course) I made both the sauce and the pasta from scratch, so I didn't make life <i>too</i> easy for myself....</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqmIiBy5-W4-q1HWwZdCF-KVBzNLC_M7MLB3LdodxmC7HkgZsvzy-P-Sxw3xodLGGyQ7PEfrqJ1AWb8Pj05Z4QPNlOjAZ2xpuvk_0Kkx2FD8mLHfQq_fTroChxUTunDRnz_fNU4qwhXHo9/s4032/20200607_111511.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqmIiBy5-W4-q1HWwZdCF-KVBzNLC_M7MLB3LdodxmC7HkgZsvzy-P-Sxw3xodLGGyQ7PEfrqJ1AWb8Pj05Z4QPNlOjAZ2xpuvk_0Kkx2FD8mLHfQq_fTroChxUTunDRnz_fNU4qwhXHo9/w300-h400/20200607_111511.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;">Just as with Polpo last week, this week was the turn of another much-loved Italian-inspired classic, this time being Jacob Kennedy's Bocca Cookbook, a spin-off from his restaurant in Soho, Bocca di Lupo - again, as with Polpo, I haven't visited yet, but I have visited Gelupo, his ice cream parlour situated opposite the restaurant, more time than I care to mention. Probably my favourite place for a frozen dessert parlour in the Big Smoke. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigiUhTqGICO8Km-YfE5ZWDKD3evwxgVBfWSk8CF_n_gFAlGAbILcg1shbuAC9R0EDyqh830ryCYa_SaeeKGSrYZIE-0FvImzNOKDMUtDJXulIqQAMRsDYClZa3PNAng4bVNL9jZtpW0ZaV/s4032/20200606_154513.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigiUhTqGICO8Km-YfE5ZWDKD3evwxgVBfWSk8CF_n_gFAlGAbILcg1shbuAC9R0EDyqh830ryCYa_SaeeKGSrYZIE-0FvImzNOKDMUtDJXulIqQAMRsDYClZa3PNAng4bVNL9jZtpW0ZaV/w400-h300/20200606_154513.jpg" width="400" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: left;">Of course, when you cook something so simple, everything has to be top-notch. From the n'duja (spicy Calabrian salami), to the cheese (more of the pecorino bought home in my suitcase from Sicily), to the pasta - which should be, despite the strong flavours vying for attention, the star of the show. This recipe calls for orecchiette (or, more descriptively when translated from the Italian, 'little ears'). Dried orecchiette can be difficult to cook well - when the thinner middle is perfectly al dente, the thicker outer edge remains hard and chewy.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The way around this, or so Mr Kennedy informs us, is to make your own. Normally I would scoff inwardly and open a packet, but clearly I have far too much time in lockdown and luckily, despite ordering a pasta maker, that is currently being employed as a foot rest under my 'work desk' (dining room table), the dough used here is made from simply flour and water. No special equipment, multiple egg yolks or rolling into gossamer-thin sheets required.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjANj0LWyop7tgTDKfZx3w5AXuB7HzMt-30X0NIpmatzxegpXe7RHBy3nTjjwuVPgHicV45wUce5ropJvQqqZ4Xrn1RBTxjTc_i3s1AHHSDilcIivD6pRw29KKcw-2AEj0muzEuvZ_ajzzi/s4032/20200606_181901.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjANj0LWyop7tgTDKfZx3w5AXuB7HzMt-30X0NIpmatzxegpXe7RHBy3nTjjwuVPgHicV45wUce5ropJvQqqZ4Xrn1RBTxjTc_i3s1AHHSDilcIivD6pRw29KKcw-2AEj0muzEuvZ_ajzzi/w300-h400/20200606_181901.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div><div style="text-align: left;">Ideally use semolina flour (which, as with my previous post, I picked up from the Italian Store) which is made from hard durum wheat. It has a coarse texture and is high in gluten protein which helps make a more elastic dough, perfect for rugged short pasta, where you want the sauce to cling to all the nooks and crannies. It also gives the finished pasta its lovely yellow hue. At a pinch, I believe you can also use bread flour or plain flour with pretty good results. Although the amount of liquid needed to make a dough may vary.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKAsDABXL70O9bazWIG027Bg-zBHCZrexjY-NsgYaR6xhyUptPk-gk7P4r1nenLkN1dWmxGvF7bXfwUtn0_0zIJTYH2QrbCjocJYhWiOEz6ySSHXFJofpAvo96a3-WHdAk2ABHtUfoOR1G/s4032/20200606_184833.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKAsDABXL70O9bazWIG027Bg-zBHCZrexjY-NsgYaR6xhyUptPk-gk7P4r1nenLkN1dWmxGvF7bXfwUtn0_0zIJTYH2QrbCjocJYhWiOEz6ySSHXFJofpAvo96a3-WHdAk2ABHtUfoOR1G/s320/20200606_184833.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">The dough it's self is a cinch to mix and knead. You can use straight away, but I let mine sit in the fridge for an hour or two. To get the ear shapes I followed several videos on <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w3Uz0z9_oOA">You Tube</a>. While by no means absolutely perfect, I was pretty impressed for a first attempt. The dough is also pretty forgiving, and I re-rolled a few misshapen ones without much ill effect. Another advantage of a dough with no egg is you can spread the shapes on a board and leave out (in the sun if it's a nice day) until they are dry, before storing as you would dried pasta. Obviously ours went straight into the pot for dinner.</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcquhK0AKf11iOy-aZb9q6ak4qAgGysetq6I0daFAzkiskO-PHNWu8NT-fHvnKXVja9lxj6Hh1jfl72goTSVTwiY198umZgxdL9z2jZ_CHhPcWEA1oA6CGVFAiWN1o2Cz_VzMcQlc_yKdc/s4032/20200606_201955.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcquhK0AKf11iOy-aZb9q6ak4qAgGysetq6I0daFAzkiskO-PHNWu8NT-fHvnKXVja9lxj6Hh1jfl72goTSVTwiY198umZgxdL9z2jZ_CHhPcWEA1oA6CGVFAiWN1o2Cz_VzMcQlc_yKdc/w400-h300/20200606_201955.jpg" width="400" /></a></div></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>Orecchiette with n'duja, red onion, tomato and rocket</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>adapted from Bocca - serves 2</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">for the orechiette</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">200g semola grano duro flour</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">100 ml water</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">for the sauce</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">1 red onion, halved and sliced with the grain</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">120g cherry tomatoes, halved</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">2 tbsp extra virgin olive oil</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">100g n'duja</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">50ml white wine</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">50g rocket, roughly chopped</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Pecorino or Parmesan, grated, to serve</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Method</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Knead the semola with half its weight of water. The texture of the dough should be soft enough to work but dry enough not to stick to itself too easily. Let it rest for at least 20 minutes, then make the orecchiette. Roll the dough into a sausage 1cm in diameter. Cut across to make 1cm dumplings.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Using a table knife, push the dough down and towards yourself. The dough should stretch and curl over the knife.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Take your thumb, and invert the pasta curl back over it, creating that inside-out shape.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Repeat until all the dough is used up. Allow to dry for about half an hour, or until the pasta shapes become slightly tacky (alternatively dry completely and store until required)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Fry the onion and tomatoes in the olive oil in a large wide pan over a high heat until softened and slightly browned.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Crumble in the n'duja and fry for a few more minutes, then add the wine and a small ladle of water. Let it bubble away for a few minutes while you cook the pasta.</div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Put the pasta on to boil in plenty of salted water and cook until it floats if it's fresh (four minutes-ish) or according to the packet if dried.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Add the drained pasta and the rocket, to the sauce and cook for a further minute</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Serve with plenty of grated cheese and a glass of wine.</div></div></div>Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15971416625448882965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8542790023139677056.post-13941152196460999282020-06-30T19:57:00.000+01:002020-06-30T19:57:27.173+01:00Week 22 - Polpo <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis-Mg03r9FhuMFV6lAh8skB7yM3eOXu9uvyyv53gba6zN0-hln-Bz6r90guW5uCfILQiEfeaoZoBKCrI7K23UZeBGANm4eeUeXODpNMfFpNhdUFfigO0X6UiXK3JEMitjY8V4G6ddrb8zH/s4032/20200530_175733.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis-Mg03r9FhuMFV6lAh8skB7yM3eOXu9uvyyv53gba6zN0-hln-Bz6r90guW5uCfILQiEfeaoZoBKCrI7K23UZeBGANm4eeUeXODpNMfFpNhdUFfigO0X6UiXK3JEMitjY8V4G6ddrb8zH/w400-h300/20200530_175733.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">This week's #cookbookchallenge is from a much-loved classic; Polpo. A cookbook gifted to me by Stealth that features Venetian inspired recipes from the London-based restaurant chain that, as I sit writing this, I realise I still haven't actually ever visited. Although Spuntino (RIP), where I remember spending a perfect afternoon with Stealth and several negronis, was a favourite. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb1Ds6zQT9yJS88eZrVd2H4eX8-kFFCv41SGQPafZViYJL_CJhcOnaoG-WNlizVJZf-QBA1P-UYnSY1wltfGhpUp4ul90O9TlOqUdfb5pqtfMi52UCdfS7weDFXamyfuUI67hC-t7KGG58/s4032/20200530_091541.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb1Ds6zQT9yJS88eZrVd2H4eX8-kFFCv41SGQPafZViYJL_CJhcOnaoG-WNlizVJZf-QBA1P-UYnSY1wltfGhpUp4ul90O9TlOqUdfb5pqtfMi52UCdfS7weDFXamyfuUI67hC-t7KGG58/w400-h300/20200530_091541.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">In fact, it's such a firm favourite that it turns out I have already written about it on this very blog, way back in 2013. Which feels like a lifetime ago now (in fact, despite priding myself on my elephant-like memory, I did actually have to search back to check and it seems I made a fennel and chickpea soup I have absolutely no recollection of). I also particularly liked the picture of a negroni, in the snow on my front lawn.</div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaRJaWa_U-7-Y1Y45fJwiKfz4xcDzUEoEjE4Li_FvrwSxAoFshenlhhEUvu4tMEb5nwUt7MI908IMVArVgXQe3_aoBANZM1XnVKjqdrr1MvckyGuUUgtvUca_S_GO6I5gRadZa-qpFMkqp/s4032/20200530_175651.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaRJaWa_U-7-Y1Y45fJwiKfz4xcDzUEoEjE4Li_FvrwSxAoFshenlhhEUvu4tMEb5nwUt7MI908IMVArVgXQe3_aoBANZM1XnVKjqdrr1MvckyGuUUgtvUca_S_GO6I5gRadZa-qpFMkqp/w300-h400/20200530_175651.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">One dish that I really wanted to try was the fritto misto. Squid rings, whitebait and shell on prawns, dusted in flour and dipped into a mixture of egg whites and sparkling water before being deep fried in vegetable oil and served with a spritz of fresh lemon. What could go wrong?</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Well, pretty much everything. But I did manage to cobble together all the ingredients (more difficult than it may sound in the midst of a pandemic) and cook it - along with some sticks of courgette, which also feature on the Polpo menu as a popular side order - and get everything in and out of a boiling cauldron of oil without any serious burns occurring. I think it was almost worth it as I ate the fruits of my labour in the garden, along with a chilled vino blanco.</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9iznggezIBVv7Ab1sa3-6oPO6e4ajo1uqPSCvOpCwSaCqNMzamIpI_DQigFm52nHQNKwZuFWo2rKG3Cm-pPVSID3yN39Dt4g4ef2cqkCkhcxZ0ZLJ0tz3C2mil65pIUfUCvmPlOTCx1iV/s4032/20200530_140909.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9iznggezIBVv7Ab1sa3-6oPO6e4ajo1uqPSCvOpCwSaCqNMzamIpI_DQigFm52nHQNKwZuFWo2rKG3Cm-pPVSID3yN39Dt4g4ef2cqkCkhcxZ0ZLJ0tz3C2mil65pIUfUCvmPlOTCx1iV/w300-h400/20200530_140909.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTy70Buo594gpOEG1B7UR5REevx39JWa_4Vo2lGZraWDC1i8g_BGWfZvV757WJ5D_muivxkRVS2MDrUIJLg8v8N2nUpjxzeXCR79gLRH1-Q8jSHDK2FwiNxd9voM7FKDH2EPjmS5rw8a5r/s4032/20200530_165642.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTy70Buo594gpOEG1B7UR5REevx39JWa_4Vo2lGZraWDC1i8g_BGWfZvV757WJ5D_muivxkRVS2MDrUIJLg8v8N2nUpjxzeXCR79gLRH1-Q8jSHDK2FwiNxd9voM7FKDH2EPjmS5rw8a5r/w400-h300/20200530_165642.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">There were also some simpler options, aided and abetted by top class ingredients from <a href="https://www.italiancont.co.uk/">The Italian Shop</a> in Maidenhead, which is an Aladdin's cave of wonderfulness, and has helped keep me sane on essential shopping trips to buy pasta and fruit and veg (and cannolis).</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">First a bruschetta (on homemade sourdough) with stracchino cheese - a fresh cheese made of cow's milk that was a first for me. Slightly chewy, I'd liken it to a cheese spread on steroids. Which is a pretty great thing. The recipe paired it with fennel salami and fresh figs, and it was the perfect mix of salty, creamy, crunchy and sweet.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN8hKu_aFr11z5os4DNUvv3d_AiNzUszKaBKgL0qAPhslOQIh3vtqZhhucCuJgbCCuMm51vAIG2Y-TIB4_rAL5OevYRuyU7uzeR8PGvxFBs27h1ioIpyV3-IOVy5K1Yg4WohvobFz7mJYh/s2046/20200531_145943-COLLAGE.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1535" data-original-width="2046" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN8hKu_aFr11z5os4DNUvv3d_AiNzUszKaBKgL0qAPhslOQIh3vtqZhhucCuJgbCCuMm51vAIG2Y-TIB4_rAL5OevYRuyU7uzeR8PGvxFBs27h1ioIpyV3-IOVy5K1Yg4WohvobFz7mJYh/w400-h300/20200531_145943-COLLAGE.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">I also dusted the mandolin off and (carefully) cut radishes and fennel into wafer thin slices, which I then draped over a pile of fresh Sicilian ricotta, topped with chopped fresh mint leaves. The ricotta was transcendental; like eating a tangy cloud of loveliness, set off with the fresh bite from the veg. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0CG_3jHcWRRvbdLTHxlUQiV02ZOzODH6s2tQxkHpfBh2688FhaxdNEYcHDeFf_stEiDNrb9JUC8tg6yWjbnNnxgHB4g147CHgua_oIwjX0949KbH761fxGJJPZ60aYYpFanYjxVjlPOBU/s4032/20200530_110748.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0CG_3jHcWRRvbdLTHxlUQiV02ZOzODH6s2tQxkHpfBh2688FhaxdNEYcHDeFf_stEiDNrb9JUC8tg6yWjbnNnxgHB4g147CHgua_oIwjX0949KbH761fxGJJPZ60aYYpFanYjxVjlPOBU/w300-h400/20200530_110748.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Of course, I couldn't neglect the classic Polpo meatballs and tomato sauce. If you came to visit Chez Famy circa 2013, there was a pretty high chance you were going to get a bowl of this. In fact, there's a pretty high chance you still might.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I still make the sauce (which is still my favourite) in exactly the same way with three tins of tomatoes (occasionally, I also throw in a few fresh ones, if it's the right time of year and I've got them to hand), an onion, a couple of cloves of garlic, a glug of olive oil, a pinch of sugar and a pinch of chilli flakes. Salt and black pepper to taste. after it's finished cooking, I add fresh oregano from the garden and whizz with the stick blender until it resembles a certain well known brand of tinned tomato soup. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbmuafssRH4aoOzBNGpT71fo8DnLhyphenhyphenfDExFz0_fc4zUvSc144n1TNEhMhlwRWGFqYvZedjO3FyGIV8HjELWkrf80Wy3Rwsc5oYgNHFlUX77PhDmGEhz8LFu9dSV4K4CeMSMoXw7DhMavI3/s3024/20200531_190824.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2268" data-original-width="3024" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbmuafssRH4aoOzBNGpT71fo8DnLhyphenhyphenfDExFz0_fc4zUvSc144n1TNEhMhlwRWGFqYvZedjO3FyGIV8HjELWkrf80Wy3Rwsc5oYgNHFlUX77PhDmGEhz8LFu9dSV4K4CeMSMoXw7DhMavI3/w400-h300/20200531_190824.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I'm still not sure <i>why</i> something so simple is so quite so good; but it is. At Polpo they serve a plate of the meatballs with the sauce and a toothpick and let you get on with it, but I prefer to make mine slightly smaller than the <a href="https://www.independent.co.uk/life-style/food-and-drink/features/meatballs-lets-go-round-again-2104799.html">recipe</a> and serve with spaghetti and fresh flat leaf parsley, which is growing in abundance on my patio at the moment. There aren't many dishes I make more than once, but this has remained a firm favourite. Stay tuned for the 2027 update, to see if it's still on the menu.</div></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15971416625448882965noreply@blogger.com0