week 39 A Bird in the Hand - Diana Henry

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.

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.

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 stressful fun precariously trying to balance it upended on a tin can on a blazing hot grill.

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.

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.

Ginger beer can chicken - adapted from Diana Henry

For the tomato sauce

1 tbsp olive oil

1 onion, finely chopped

2 garlic cloves, finely chopped

400g can of tomatoes/ six ripe medium tomatoes, roughly chopped

Salt and pepper

¼ tsp soft light brown sugar

For the ginger beer chicken

1.8kg chicken

330ml can of ginger beer

125ml tomato sauce, preferably home-made (see above)

40g root ginger, peeled and grated

6 garlic cloves, grated

4 red chillies, finely chopped (I leave the seeds in)

1 tbsp smoked paprika

leaves from 8 sprigs of thyme

3 tbsp soft dark brown sugar

Method

To make the tomato sauce, heat the olive oil in a saucepan and gently sweat the onion until soft but not coloured.

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.

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

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.

Shake the marinade off the chicken Place the chicken on the opened ginger beer can so the can is in the cavity.

Place the can and chicken into a tray then onto the barbecue grill.

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.

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.

week 37 Everyday Harumi

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.

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.

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.

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.

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. 

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.

Tsukune (adapted from Harumi Cooks)

1 small onion peeled and finely diced

1 stalk celery, finely diced

300g mince - beef or pork (I used a mixture), but chicken works well, too

1 medium egg

1 tbs plain flour

5-6 fresh basil leaves (optional)

Sunflower or vegetable oil-for frying

Shichimi togarashi or chili pepper

Lemon wedges to serve 

Teriayaki sauce

250ml soy sauce

250ml mirin

4 tbsp caster sugar

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.

Preheat the grill/barbecue.

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

Shape the mixture into rounds about 5 inches in diameter, and flatten slightly. Thread on to small skewers, two or three per skewer.

Grill until cooked through, turning halfway and brushing with a little teriyaki sauce.

Glaze with more sauce and sprinkle with shichimi togarashi/chili pepper flakes.

Serve with lemon wedges on the side.