week 28 - Jamie's Italian - Jamie Oliver

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.

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.

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.

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. 

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.

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.

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. 

Peposo - Tuscan beef and black pepper stew

Adapted from Jamie's Italy

2kg beef on the bone (ribs, or shin) 

1 bulb of garlic, unpeeled and broken into cloves

1 tbsp whole peppercorns

1 tsp sea salt

a good grinding of coarsely ground black pepper

one bottle of red wine, preferably Italian, nothing too fancy

3 bay leaves

a couple of sprigs of fresh rosemary

1 tin chopped tomatoes

Pre-heat the oven to 150c

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.

Take the meat from the pot and leave to cool.

If the gravy is looking thin, place the pot on the hob and reduce until thickened.

When the meat is cool enough to handle, shred from the bones, removing any pieces of fat or cartilage.

Add the meat back to the thickened gravy.

Best reheated the next day and served with cannelini beans, polenta, mash or crusty bread. Good wine and great company.

Week 22 - Polpo

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.  

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.

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?

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.

There were also some simpler options, aided and abetted by top class ingredients from The Italian Shop 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).

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.

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. 

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.

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. 

I'm still not sure why 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 recipe 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.

Week 13 - Vegetables - Antonio Carluccio

Lockdown, or at least social isolation, finally reaches the blog (which shows you how far behind I am writing these up...). The tail end of March saw the Ewing and I sent home from the office one morning and as I write this - some three-and-a-half weeks later we are still here. Luckily we are considered key workers and can both work from home, so, although adjusting to our new life has been somewhat of a challenge at times, and we have both been kept busy, we both feel very fortunate.

Another reason to feel lucky is the wonderful countryside that surrounds us, which we have been exploring on our Government-approved daily walks. While much of it is familiar, it's surprising just how much is hidden on your doorstep. And of course, the allotment which, according to Michael Gove, is still considered part of your daily exercise. The first (and probably last) time I will agree with him about anything.

It was on one of our visits to the allotment that the seed for this week's recipe was planted. While March is a fairly barren month, the Ewing kept talking about patches of red-veined sorrel that had self-seeded after she grew it years ago. 

I don't remember cooking it back then, but I chanced upon a recipe for a sorrel risotto in Antonio Carluccio's Vegetables  - a far more inspiring title than it probably sounds - and a plan started to fall into place to use some of the wild leaves that are so  beloved of the Italians, and are also abundant here at this time of year. And also avoiding a dreaded trip to a post-Corona world supermarket, with its increasingly bare shelves and paranoid customers.

We picked some wild garlic from the one patch that grows in the woods by our house, and I was also thrilled to find the little patch we have been nurturing under a bench in our garden is also beginning to thrive. Well, enough to make a jar of wild garlic and walnut pesto with, which was added to some homemade gnocchi as well as a splodge ending up in this risotto, too.

I also put on my marigolds and picked some young nettle leaves from the end of the garden (you can see Pusskins came over the fence to help), and then we went on a walk past the allotment and collected the aforementioned red-veined sorrel, originally planted by the Ewing circa 2013, when she first got the allotment, and still popping up in tufts reminiscent of the late Keith Flint's hair when I saw The Prodigy at Reading Festival as a teenager.

Risotto of wild vegetables -  adapted from Antonio Carluccio

serves 4

a large handful of fresh sorrel leaves, washed and tough stems removed

a large handful of wild garlic, washed

a large handful of nettles, washed and tough stems removed

2 tbs of wild garlic/basil pesto (optional)

2 litres chicken or vegetable stock

2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil

1 medium onion, peeled and finely chopped

small glass of dry white wine (Italian if you've got it)

350g risotto rice

50g Parmesan, freshly grated

a large knob of unsalted butter

salt and black pepper

Blanch the nettles and wild garlic in boiling water, rinse in cold water and then blend into a puree. Set aside.

Put the stock into a saucepan on a low heat, next to where you will make the risotto.

Heat the olive oil in a pan (I use a casserole dish), and fry the onion for about 10 minutes, until softened a little. Add the wine and bubble for a minute or two until the alcohol has burnt off.

Add the rice and stir around to coat each grain. 

Add the hot stock a ladle at a time, stirring until it is fully absorbed before adding more liquid.

After 10 minutes add some salt and the puree.

Continue cooking, stirring and adding stock, for about another 15 minutes, which is when you should taste a grain of rice for your preferred al dente texture and the rice should be moist, but not too wet. When it is nearly ready, add most of the sorrel leaves, roughly chopped if large, saving a few to garnish.

When the rice is to your taste, take the pan off the heat, beat in the Parmesan and the butter until glossy, and serve with a sprinkling of freshly ground black pepper and the remaining sorrel leaves