Jan
02

A post from me? It must be New Year. We had a couple of friends over for New Year’s eve, and I wanted to do some cooking that would allow us to sit in the kitchen and eat things as they came off the stove, so I decided to put together a selection of things that were a bit more than a mouthful, but not something that needed us to sit down with a knife and fork. With that in mind, I put together the selection shown in the picture. Clockwise from top left: ‘Tuna Nicoise’ - this was a slice of fresh tuna, seared on the outside, with a soft-poached quail’s egg sitting on top, and dehydrated olives, capers, and shallots ground in a spice grinder on top of that. Unfortunately the olives retained too much oil and the powders clumped a bit as a result. Steak tartare served on dripping-fried toast. Dripping is rendered beef fat, and frying the little toast slices in it adds a delicious beefy flavour while making the ‘toast’ crisp enough to hold the steak. The beef was skirt steak from Dexter cows (hanger steak in US terminology), finely diced with shallots, capers, and anchovies, seasoned, and bound with an egg yolk. Smoked salmon parfait with caviar. The salmon parfait was made that morning to give it time to set. It’s very simple - smoked salmon simmered with cream and a little water, then pureed. Bloomed gelatine is added, then more cream whipped until stiff is folded into the purée then chilled until set. Poached trout and black pudding. Because on paper it looked much too healthy, I poached the trout in butter until it was just cooked, then flaked it up with a little of the butter and served with a simple grilled chunk of black pudding (a British type of blood sausage). The richness of the black pudding and the lightness of the trout were a lovely combination. Not pictured was a garlic soup - as it was a white soup in a white cup. A whole roasted bulb of garlic, simmered with onions and cream, then pureed. Thick and powerfully garlicky. I was thoroughly pleased with everything cooked there, and as such have a New Year’s resolution - cook more little things! Happy new year, everyone. —Nick

A post from me? It must be New Year.

We had a couple of friends over for New Year’s eve, and I wanted to do some cooking that would allow us to sit in the kitchen and eat things as they came off the stove, so I decided to put together a selection of things that were a bit more than a mouthful, but not something that needed us to sit down with a knife and fork.

With that in mind, I put together the selection shown in the picture. Clockwise from top left:

  • ‘Tuna Nicoise’ - this was a slice of fresh tuna, seared on the outside, with a soft-poached quail’s egg sitting on top, and dehydrated olives, capers, and shallots ground in a spice grinder on top of that. Unfortunately the olives retained too much oil and the powders clumped a bit as a result.
  • Steak tartare served on dripping-fried toast. Dripping is rendered beef fat, and frying the little toast slices in it adds a delicious beefy flavour while making the ‘toast’ crisp enough to hold the steak. The beef was skirt steak from Dexter cows (hanger steak in US terminology), finely diced with shallots, capers, and anchovies, seasoned, and bound with an egg yolk.
  • Smoked salmon parfait with caviar. The salmon parfait was made that morning to give it time to set. It’s very simple - smoked salmon simmered with cream and a little water, then pureed. Bloomed gelatine is added, then more cream whipped until stiff is folded into the purée then chilled until set.
  • Poached trout and black pudding. Because on paper it looked much too healthy, I poached the trout in butter until it was just cooked, then flaked it up with a little of the butter and served with a simple grilled chunk of black pudding (a British type of blood sausage). The richness of the black pudding and the lightness of the trout were a lovely combination.
  • Not pictured was a garlic soup - as it was a white soup in a white cup. A whole roasted bulb of garlic, simmered with onions and cream, then pureed. Thick and powerfully garlicky.

I was thoroughly pleased with everything cooked there, and as such have a New Year’s resolution - cook more little things!

Happy new year, everyone. —Nick

Dec
02

Weekend meal planning

Friday night: ribeye steak, mushrooms fried in garlic butter, sweet potato roasted with olive oil and heavily seasoned with cayenne, oregano, thyme and paprika.

Saturday brunch: toasted (English) muffins with smoked salmon and scrambled eggs.

Saturday dinner: roasted cod loin with grilled mushrooms stuffed with n’duja and courgette ribbons.

Sunday brunch: waffles with bananas and maple syrup, with a side of bacon.

Sunday dinner: roasted pork loin with roast potatoes and parsnip and Yorkshire pudding.

Should keep me busy! —Rich

Nov
07

Blackened seared tuna with cajun rice This was our dinner tonight. Despite seeming very fancy, it took less than 20 minutes of prep time and only about 45 minutes to cook from beginning to end. I’d say this is pretty good cooking-to-impress food — although it does fill your kitchen with an alarming amount of smoke. I’ve written up my recipe for O:S! previously. This one came out a lot prettier than the one I pictured there, though. —Rich

Blackened seared tuna with cajun rice

This was our dinner tonight. Despite seeming very fancy, it took less than 20 minutes of prep time and only about 45 minutes to cook from beginning to end. I’d say this is pretty good cooking-to-impress food — although it does fill your kitchen with an alarming amount of smoke.

I’ve written up my recipe for O:S! previously. This one came out a lot prettier than the one I pictured there, though. —Rich

Oct
29

Lunch today was caprese grilled cheese sandwiches. No recipe required, because it’s pretty obvious: cram slices of mozzarella, tomato, and pesto between pieces of bread, brush the outside of the bread with butter or oil, and lightly fry to melt the cheese. I found it worked better if I put a lid on the frying pan to trap more heat in and make sure the cheese was properly melted. I also made my own pesto for this, because I don’t like pine nuts so pre-made stuff isn’t to my taste. Authenticity demands that pesto is ground by hand in a pestle and mortar, but I’m far too busy and important (read: lazy and inept) for that. Instead, I simply used a small blender to combine a handful of basil leaves, a few table spoons of grated parmesan, a diced clove of garlic, some salt and pepper, and enough decent quality olive oil to give a gloopy consistency. This worked well enough for the sandwiches, though I daresay it’s not the last word in pesto-ness. —Rich

Lunch today was caprese grilled cheese sandwiches.

No recipe required, because it’s pretty obvious: cram slices of mozzarella, tomato, and pesto between pieces of bread, brush the outside of the bread with butter or oil, and lightly fry to melt the cheese. I found it worked better if I put a lid on the frying pan to trap more heat in and make sure the cheese was properly melted.

I also made my own pesto for this, because I don’t like pine nuts so pre-made stuff isn’t to my taste. Authenticity demands that pesto is ground by hand in a pestle and mortar, but I’m far too busy and important (read: lazy and inept) for that. Instead, I simply used a small blender to combine a handful of basil leaves, a few table spoons of grated parmesan, a diced clove of garlic, some salt and pepper, and enough decent quality olive oil to give a gloopy consistency. This worked well enough for the sandwiches, though I daresay it’s not the last word in pesto-ness. —Rich

Oct
22

Tex-mex weekend brunch: eggs roasted in sweet pointed peppers, with chilli and freshly made tortilla chips. Both Danielle and I are pretty lazy and slow-moving on weekend mornings, so it’s usually 11 o’clock or so before we get around to eating anything, by which point we’re starving. So elaborate and hearty brunches are very much a thing for us — you can see some of my previous efforts. This dish was inspired by a post by Delishy Town that I spotted on Tumblr’s food tag page. It was easy to make, too: Pre-heat oven to 180 deg C (375 deg F). Dice half an onion, fry gently for a few minutes. Finely dice a handful of mushrooms, add to the pan with the onions. Optional: discover some leftover taco meat in the fridge from when your wife made nachos. Throw that in too. Add a tin of chopped tomatoes to the pan. Bring to the boil, season, add spices if desired, and leave to simmer and reduce a little while you do the next bit. Get some of those long, red, pointed peppers that most supermarkets sell these days. Halve them through the stalk and carefully remove the ribs and seeds. Turn the chilli mix out into an ovenproof dish. Put the peppers on top. One by one, crack eggs into a small bowl, then pour them into the peppers. Cover with grated cheese. Put the whole lot into the oven for 10-15 minutes, until the cheese is browned and the egg cooked through. Get a couple of tortillas and quarter them with a sharp knife. Dip some kitchen towel in flavourless cooking oil (vegetable or groundnut) and wipe the tortillas down. Put them on a baking sheet. Put the tortillas in the oven for the last 5 minutes of the cooking time. It was very tasty, and a nice change from the normal sorts of things we eat for brunch. —Rich

Tex-mex weekend brunch: eggs roasted in sweet pointed peppers, with chilli and freshly made tortilla chips.

Both Danielle and I are pretty lazy and slow-moving on weekend mornings, so it’s usually 11 o’clock or so before we get around to eating anything, by which point we’re starving. So elaborate and hearty brunches are very much a thing for us — you can see some of my previous efforts.

This dish was inspired by a post by Delishy Town that I spotted on Tumblr’s food tag page.

It was easy to make, too:

  1. Pre-heat oven to 180 deg C (375 deg F).
  2. Dice half an onion, fry gently for a few minutes.
  3. Finely dice a handful of mushrooms, add to the pan with the onions.
  4. Optional: discover some leftover taco meat in the fridge from when your wife made nachos. Throw that in too.
  5. Add a tin of chopped tomatoes to the pan. Bring to the boil, season, add spices if desired, and leave to simmer and reduce a little while you do the next bit.
  6. Get some of those long, red, pointed peppers that most supermarkets sell these days. Halve them through the stalk and carefully remove the ribs and seeds.
  7. Turn the chilli mix out into an ovenproof dish. Put the peppers on top. One by one, crack eggs into a small bowl, then pour them into the peppers.
  8. Cover with grated cheese.
  9. Put the whole lot into the oven for 10-15 minutes, until the cheese is browned and the egg cooked through.
  10. Get a couple of tortillas and quarter them with a sharp knife. Dip some kitchen towel in flavourless cooking oil (vegetable or groundnut) and wipe the tortillas down. Put them on a baking sheet.
  11. Put the tortillas in the oven for the last 5 minutes of the cooking time.

It was very tasty, and a nice change from the normal sorts of things we eat for brunch. —Rich

Oct
21

Oct
10

Corned beef, or as us Brits call it, salt beef. I started with beef brisket, cured it for two and a half weeks in a seasoned brine with saltpetre (for the pink colour), then braised it in dark ale for 6 hours at a low heat. Although it sounds like an ordeal, it’s actually a very straightforward process, and it tastes superb. It’s very hard to find good salt beef here in the UK, so I’m glad I can make my own. This half of the brisket was served as-is for sandwiches to our guests, Rob & Amantha, when they came from America to stay with us for a week. The rest of it was used for corned beef hash —Rich

Corned beef, or as us Brits call it, salt beef. I started with beef brisket, cured it for two and a half weeks in a seasoned brine with saltpetre (for the pink colour), then braised it in dark ale for 6 hours at a low heat. Although it sounds like an ordeal, it’s actually a very straightforward process, and it tastes superb. It’s very hard to find good salt beef here in the UK, so I’m glad I can make my own.

This half of the brisket was served as-is for sandwiches to our guests, Rob & Amantha, when they came from America to stay with us for a week. The rest of it was used for corned beef hash —Rich

The other half of the corned beef I made (see my previous post) was chilled overnight, diced, and used to make this corned beef hash (with poached duck egg), which I served as breakfast to Rob, Amantha and Danielle. I’m particularly pleased with how this came out. —Rich

The other half of the corned beef I made (see my previous post) was chilled overnight, diced, and used to make this corned beef hash (with poached duck egg), which I served as breakfast to Rob, Amantha and Danielle. I’m particularly pleased with how this came out. —Rich

Sep
27

Sep
11

Deboning a whole chicken

Last week I chanced across this Youtube video where legendary chef Jacques Pépin demonstrates how to completely debone a whole chicken. “Hmmm,” I thought to myself, “that looks far easier than I would have thought.” So, naturally, I had to have a go at it today — with somewhat mixed results.

First, the good stuff. Without cutting myself more than a little tiny bit, I started with this…

… and 37 minutes later (after a lot of headscratching, fumbling, and rewinding and rewatching the Youtube video) I had turned it into this…

In this picture, every bone except the very ends of the legs have been removed, and some of the meat has been strategeically re-arranged. The idea is that you’re left with one neat layer of skin and one neat layer of flesh, of even thickness. Mine wasn’t so neat but hopefully you get the idea. Now, admittedly 37 minutes is a long time; but that’s my own ineptitude to blame, not anything inherently difficult about the technique. I can easily believe that once you’ve done a few of these you can do them in very quickly indeed and I’m sure my next one will be done lot faster.

(Just out of shot is the remainder of the carcass, which I later boiled up for stock with some ginger, chilli, garlic and onions; I’m going to make a noodle soup out of that this week.)

I then took a stuffing I’d made the day before, a simple mushroom duxelles made from finely diced shallots slowly fried with minced chestnut, portobello, shiitake and porcini mushrooms until it reduces into a paste.

(The shiitake and porcini mushrooms were dehyrdated, not fresh; I reconstituted them with a soak in warm water for half an hour first, then mixed the soaking liquid back in with the pan so I didn’t lose a drop of flavour.)

I spread this stuffing all over the chicken and packed it down into the leg cavities:

Then I rolled the chicken up, almost back into the shape I started with but with solid meat and stuffing now. So far, so good. I had some slightly scruffy spots where the skin wouldn’t quite cover all of the flesh because I’d cut into it too ham-fistedly, but nothing too bad.

Sadly, this is where stuff started to go wrong.

I had been unable to locate butcher’s twine in town during the week, so my butcher had supplied me with these elasticated things that they use in the shop. My plan was to use a few of these around the body of the chicken to hold it together. However, as soon as I put one in place, it was obvious this wasn’t going to work: the elastic was too tight, causing the stuffing to shift around and the bird to bulge outwards on either side of it.

Plan B, then: I stuck a few toothpicks through the seam to try and hold it together during the cooking process (I didn’t have any short skewers, which would have been preferable.) Then I considered how I was going to cook it and chickened out (pun intended) of using my usual big roasting tray with a rack; instead, I put it in a smallish earthenware bakeware tray. The idea was that the chicken was a snug fit in the tray, which means it wouldn’t have any scope to fall apart while it was cooking.

Here it is, seasoned and ready for the oven. I roasted it at 180 deg C (350 deg F) for about 1hr 45min, until my digital temperature probe recorded an internal temperature of 80 deg C (175 deg F).

That bakeware was a mistake, on two levels. Firstly, it was too snug a fit and provided nowhere for the pan drippings to go; so the bottom of the chicken was rather greasy. Secondly, it’s rather thick and is light in colour, so tends to be rather heat-absorbing. So when the chicken came out of the oven, it looked pretty good:

But when I cut into it, it was obvious that the bottom half-inch or so of meat was hopelessly undercooked, raw and pink-looking. On top of that, I was unable to get clean slice through the meat; I think my carving knife needs a good sharpening.

Nevertheless, I soldiered on. Well, more accurately, I started to sulk before my wife pointed out that this could still be rescued. I sliced the chicken as best I could and flashed the meat under a hot grill to ensure it was cooked through before serving. Here’s how it ended up looking:

I served it with a gravy made from the pan drippings and a splash of Madeira, some garlic and rosemary roast potatoes, some fantastic glazed carrots (I cannot recommend that recipe enough), and a Yorkshire pudding. Yes, it’s traditional to eat Yorkshire puddings with beef, not chicken; but frankly I don’t care.

All in all, my first attempt at deboning a chicken turned out okay, although there are certainly lessons for me to learn for next time. It tasted great — moist and succulent, with plenty of flavour both from the meat and the delicious duxelles stuffing. I’ll certainly be trying it again. If I can get the technique down, it’ll make a great meal to serve to friends I think — it’s looks impressive and all the complex stuff can be done entirely ahead of time. It’s also a very practical way to cater for a large group from a small oven because what you end up with is a solid ball of meat, as opposed to the space lost to the bones and chest cavity of a normal roast chicken.

Footnote: if you take this process a stage further and do a chicken, and a duck, and a turkey, then layer them one on top of the other before rolling them all up together, you get what us Brits call a three bird roast but some Americans call by the clanging awful portmanteau “turducken”. I always wondered how they were made.