week 46 - Fire Island - Eleanor Ford

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. 

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.

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...).

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.

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. 

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.

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.

Beef Rendang

Adapted from Fire Island by Eleanor Ford 

2 tins full-fat coconut milk

1kg beef brisket or shin, cut into bite-sized pieces

1 tablespoon dark palm sugar or brown sugar

2 teaspoons salt

2 lime leaves

1 lemongrass stick, trimmed, bruised and tied in a knot

1 cinnamon stick

spice paste

8 small red Asian shallots, peeled (I used one red onion)

5 large red chillies, seeded

4 garlic cloves, peeled

2.5 cm galangal, skin scrubbed (I used more ginger)

2.5 cm ginger, peeled

2.5 cm turmeric, peeled, or 1 teaspoon ground turmeric

1/4 nutmeg, grated

pinch of ground cloves

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.

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. 

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.

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.

Leave to rest (overnight if possible). Rendang keeps well in the fridge and the flavours only improve.

Week 8 - Thai Food- David Thompson

David Thompson's - the Michelin-starred Sydney-born chef - distinctive pink tome on Thai food is often considered the best example of the genre. In fact, one of the best cook books full stop. Much to my shame my copy has sat, unused and only occasionally flicked-through, on my bookshelf for a good decade or more. The perfect example of what #cookbookchallenge was dreamt up for.

When I actually picked it back up and finally committed to cook from it, I was reminded of my previous ambivalence. I mean, I'm a an experimental cook, but recipes such as curried fish innards, or curried ash melon, or oyster and banana blossom salad, or recipes that require apple eggplants, or winged beans, or Siamese watercress, or langsart (a bitter sweet fruit with a pale brown skin with an inner stone, according to Google) aren't a particularly practical choice if you live in the leafy Chilterns.

Of course, you can pick up the majority of unusual ingredients even in the Home Counties, if you know where to hunt. I found thai basil in Waitrose (which, disappointingly, you didn't even need in the recipe I ended up choosing) and we found the shrimp paste (the recipe actually calls for 'small fish, smoked over coconut husks' so I improvised...) in a small corner shop selling far eastern ingredients in suburban Aylesbury, that I sometimes walk past on my daily commute.

(NB, if you ever want to visit, they only seem to open in the evenings. And more often than not, you have to call the number on the door so you can be let in, then step over an old bicycle in the doorway. They do have a great range of fish-flavoured crisps, though.)

The star of the show, however, was the majestic crown prince squash, that I ended up buying after I, quite literally, popped to the shops for a pint of milk. As it turned out to be a rather expensive impulse purchase, I wanted to do it justice and, when flicking through my cook books for some inspiration, found a recipe for a pumpkin and pork rib curry in Thompson's aforementioned Thai Food.

And, so to the big question; was it worth the effort? Honestly, probably not. That said, making the curry paste was far easier than anticipated - although I did the lion's share of the work using the Nutribullet - and the Ewing was very effusive in her praise, which was just what was needed after a long afternoon chopping, and simmering and pounding, only to end up with something far murkier than I had imagined. Nothing an extra slug of fish sauce and a judicious squeeze of lime couldn't lift, even if the final dish was more orange than vibrant red.

Pork rib and pumpkin curry

Adapted from David Thompson's Thai Food

500g pumpkin or squash

500g small pork loin ribs

3 cups coconut milk

1 cup coconut cream

2 kaffir lime leaves

1 tbsp palm sugar

4 fresh long green chillies, chopped

for the paste

2 tbs chopped galangal (I used ginger)

2 tbs 'any fish ,boiled smoked or dried' (I used half the amount of shrimp paste)

4 tbs chopped red shallots (I used red onions)

10 dried long red chillies

6 cloves chopped garlic

2 stalks chopped lemongrass

lime wedges

Thai steamed rice

To make the paste, remove the seeds from the red chillies and soak in hot water for ten minutes then drain.

Add the chillies, lemongrass, garlic, galangal, shrimp paste and shallots to a blender or Nutribullet and process until you have a fine paste (alternatively grind in a pestle and mortar, starting with the hardest ingredients first.

Wash the pumpkin in cold water. Blanch the pork ribs from a cold water start, then rinse and gently poach in a cup of the coconut milk, topped up with water if needed, until soft. About 1 hour. You can add any offcuts of galangal, shallots and lemongrass to the poaching liquid for flavour. Drain the pork, reserving the coconut milk.

Heat the coconut cream in a wok or shallow pan, stirring constantly to stop it scorching. After it has separated, add the curry paste and fry over a medium heat, stirring constantly.

After 5 minutes or so the paste should be fragrant and oily, add a little of the reserved coconut milk if it seems too dry.

Add the palm sugar and the fish sauce and then the pumpkin. After a few minutes add the rest of the coconut milk and simmer until the pumpkin is tender. Add the pork ribs and heat through.

Finish with the kaffir lime leaves and the green chillies. Remove from the heat and allow to stand for five minutes before serving with steamed Thai rice and lime wedges

The curry should taste salty, hot, sweet and creamy. Like the best things in life.