Week 3 Salt Sugar Smoke - Diana Henry

I've started a new job this week, which is both exciting and exhausting in equal measure. At least they serve good coffee. Which makes me think I'm already turning into the kind of person who appears on daytime lifestyle programmes and is horrified to learn the reason they've got no money is they've spent more than their mortgage repayments on skinny cappuccinos with an extra shot. Oh, and I'd better take one those of cereal bars while I'm here, too.

In order to prepare myself, I elected to spend most of last weekend doing as close to nothing as I possibly could manage (I've had previous practice). Catching up on sleep, going for walks and trying to recover from my leaving drinks. I'm still not quite sure I'm over it  but at least I know my limit when it comes to drinking pints of Deya's Steady Rolling Man pale ale...

As a bit of a distraction technique, and so we'd have a few treats to enjoy in-between napping, I also decided to rope the Ewing into assisting me with a couple of mini projects from one of the Ewing's favourite books, Diana Henry's Salt Sugar Smoke, for this week's #cookbookchallenge. And as an added extra she even made a loaf of Nigella's Finnish rye bread. Oven gloves model's own.

First up was gravlax, something we've made a few times, but this time it came with a twist, being cured in brown sugar, grated apple, dill, whiskey and sea salt. The recipe asks for a peaty whiskey, but I used Rittenhouse Rye as that's what we had knocking about in the cellar cupboard under the stairs. Probably a good time to invest in a jar of maraschino cherries and whip up a few manhattans. (we have maraschino cherries in the fridge - TE).

While I'm not sure the apple really came through in the finished dish, I very much enjoyed the balance of flavours. Plus we managed to judge the curing time perfectly so the fish was cured throughout without being overly salty or tough at the edges. If you're missing that fruity hit, then the book also features a recipe for a green apple and red onion salad to eat alongside, but we ended up eating most of it with the Ewing's home made rye bread and lots of cream cheese. 

If you haven't made it before, it's really worth a bash, especially if whole salmon is on offer. Very easy and very impressive if you've got guests. Alternatively just eat it  in your pjs, in front of the cricket with a glass of fizz in hand; like we did.

Whiskey and brown sugar-cured gravlax 

adapted from Diana Henry

Ingredients

1 kg piece of salmon in two halves, filleted and pin boned, skin left on (buy whole salmon on offer from the fish counter, cut into pieces, freeze then defrost before curing - TE)

50ml peaty whiskey

100g soft light brown sugar

100g coarse sea salt

1 tbsp coarsely ground black pepper

bunch of dill, roughly chopped

1 tart apple, peeled, cored and coarsely grated

Method

Line a dish, big enough to hold the salmon, with a double layer of clingfilm. 

Put one of the pieces of salmon, skin down, on top. Rub it all over with half the whiskey. Mix the sugar, salt and pepper, dill and apple together in a bowl and spread it over the salmon. Pour on the rest of the whiskey and put the other piece of salmon (skin side up) on top. Pull the clingfilm round the fish then put a chopping board or plate on top and weight down (cans work well). Put into the fridge and leave to cure for two to three days, turning every morning/night and pouring off any liquid. We made it on Thursday evening and it was ready to eat on Saturday morning. Perfect timing for brunch.

Remove the clingfilm and scrape the cure off both pieces of fish.

To serve, slice the salmon thinly with a sharp knife just as you would smoked salmon (leave the skin behind). Wrapped in the fridge it will keep for a week.

While the salmon was curing it was also the perfect weather to make labneh, a kind of 'cheese' made from strained greek yogurt strained in a muslin cloth over the sink. You can also do this in the fridge, but ours is predictably packed to the gunwales, making winter the best time to do this so it doesn't get too warm while it's hanging up. 

I can also assure you our muslin was freshly washed, unfortunately it has been dyed an attractive beige by the Ewing using it to strain her homemade cold brew coffee....(why, thank you - TE)

Labneh 
adapted from Diana Henry

Ingredients

1 kg greek yogurt

1tsp  fine sea salt

herbs and spices (see below)

rapeseed/olive oil

method

Line a sieve with a piece of muslin or a brand new J-cloth and set it over a bowl. 

Mix the yogurt with the salt. Tip into the cloth, tie it up and hang somewhere to drain. Over the sink is ideal if it's cold enough, or in the fridge over a bowl.

The yogurt will lose moisture over the next 24/48 hours. Help it along by giving it a gentle squeeze every so often.

When it is firm enough, take small amounts and roll into balls before rolling in herbs and spices.

We used fresh, finely chopped chives, dried chilli flakes, dried mint, dried dill and sumac.

Place the balls in a sterilised glass jar and cover with rapeseed or olive oil.

These will keep in the fridge for up to two weeks.

The leftover oil can be used for salad dressings/pasta dishes etc.

Hot town, summer in the city

A hot summer in the city is one of my favourite things. Of course, like everything in life, there are caveats - being pressed into an armpit on the Northern line in rush hour, or walking around Soho on bin day have their own special olfactory charm – but, overall, there is a special excitement to the heat haze and sticky asphalt; the dead streets; and getting a frozen strawberry lemonade form the McDonald’s in Walworth Road (if they’re not cleaning the machines, again) on the way back to Stealth’s after a big night out.

Eating on occasions like these demands a laid-back approach. Sure, you can enjoy the icy blast of air-conditioning somewhere identikit, but far better to be gently sweating somewhere with the door propped open; a redundant fan in the corner, blowing the hot air about; and simple food washed down with a cooling libation or two. All of which boxes Patogh, just off the Edgware road successfully ticks.

Sitting by the window meant a cooling breeze, and a fascinating view down to the kaleidoscope of one of London's most vibrant thoroughfares, but I did feel sympathy for the guys working behind the blazing grills and charcoal oven. Especially as I suspect they were more than twelve hours in to their fast for Ramadan.

It isn't licenced, but you can bring your own alcohol. As we'd had a few poky #trainbeers on the way there, I stuck to the sparkling water while the Ewing had her favourite, doogh. A divisive (the thought gives me the dry heaves) thin yoghurt drink with added salt and mint, it proved an ideal way for her to temper the heat.

Mixed starters brought a platter featuring shairazi salad (chopped tomatoes, cucumber, onion and parsley); two tangy yoghurts, one with shallot and one with cucumber; and creamy houmous topped with a thicket of fresh herbs. 

Although it wasn't advertised, they also bought us a dish of mixed pickled veg that were very similar to the jars of 'Nanny pickle' my grandmother made. We all used to fight over the green tomatoes when I was growing up, and the Ewing and I were soon locked in a nostalgic battle for the best bits.

To scoop up our dips we also ordered the big special bread, which has got to be one of the best, and most accurately, named dishes in town. What turns up is indeed big and made of bread, and its pretty special too. Cooked in their own clay oven, it's at turns crusty and chewy and pillowy with a wonderful smoky, nutty flavour from the charred spots and the sesame seeds scattered on top.

Chelo khoresh ghaimah was a stew of split yellow peas, diced lamb and dried lime; slow cooked in a tomato sauce with 'potato cubs' and topped with crisp-like potato matchsticks. I'm not normally a big fan of a stew, especially when stewing in the heat, but here the meat was gently yielding, the sauce deep and rich and glossy, and the spiky sour edge from the citrus made it perfect for the weather.

Chelow Kebab - the Iranian national dish of steamed saffron rice topped with skewered meat - come in the choice of two meats; lamb or chicken, and two varieties; kofte and shish; or you can go wild and have a mixture of the two. I chose the lamb kofte, served with a suggestion of salad and with more saffron rice - topped with a pleasing large lump of butter. This, with a good squirt of their homemade chilli sauce, is kebab perfection. And you don't even have to be pissed. 

Fabulous, fast food, friendly service and, at thirty quid for the lot, great value anywhere - not just in this frenetic corner of town. All making Patogh a great option, come rain or shine.

I can tell you my love for you will still be strong

After the boys of summer have gone