Forgive the fancy name, this is really just sweet and sour chicken without any Asian influence. This recipe was thrown together from memories of a Nigel Slater video where he prepared, based on his love of opposites attracting, this meal. I believe he just called it sticky sweet and sour chicken or something (I couldn't be bothered to rewatch the video once I'd got into the swing of the kitchen). It was subtitled with Spanish translation, and thus the title of the video was a rather sexy name going by 'pollo agridulce'. I gratefully magpie'd it in the knowledge I'd sound that bit more like I know what I'm talking about.
To serve with this Slater provided a really zingy, almost bitter sour salad (well, more of a relish) and to make it more of a meal I threw in some chipolata sausages and diced red-skin potatoes. For a splash of green, I'd suggest a peppery salad, although I used some leftover Canada coleslaw I had made. So we're really sticking to this Spanish theme aren't we?
1)Marinade 5 chicken thighs (skin on, bone in) in a mixture of 2 tbsp wholegrain mustard, 3 crushed garlic cloves, the juice of a lemon plus the emptied husk, 1 tbsp dark soy sauce and 4 of maple syrup. Slater suggested honey but maple syrup is so smokey its sweetness doesn't attack you like honey. Smoosh the chicken around in it, and add 10 chipolata sausages, or about 6 fat ones like Cumberland. Leave to marinate overnight in the fridge or a good few hours at room temperature, in direct sunlight or right next to a starved spaniel.
2)When you're ready to cook, tip the chicken, sausages and marinade into a lightly oiled baking tin and add 4 chunked, unpeeled potatoes.
3)Bake at 200 degrees for 10 minutes, then lower the heat 180 and bake for 30-35 minutes.
4)To prepare the relish, quarter 3 preserved lemons, scoop out the fleshy bit leaving the skin and finely dice. Take 100g unpitted black olives (so much better than the plasticky pitted ones) and I tend to just maul at them to remove the stone and break them apart. Toss together with a head of roughly chopped parsley.
5)Take the chicken out of the oven, and devour with the lemon salad.
Thursday 31 March 2016
Monday 28 March 2016
Leftover Cannellini Pilau
When there's a lot of meat leftover after a Sunday Lunch or midweek roast, I often turn it into a pilau, delicious Indian sweet spicy rice with sultanas and pistachios. Today I wanted to do the same, but failed to be inspired to cook in time to bother with the faff of washing and cooking volatile basmati rice. Therefore, I decided to key into my inner-improv and use the starch of two tins of cannelini beans in place of rice, and have them soak up a good glug of marsala as well as all the evocative spices. They did an excellent job, but unfortunately they lack the moisture of rice, so by my Mother's suggestion I added natural yoghurt- it successfuly cuts through the dryness and counters the sweetness with its tang, plus, you know #healthy bacteria.
It doesn't hurt either that this is very, very quick to make.
If you have any klowunji (Nigella) seeds on hand, they add a nice dimension, but if not, don't worry.
1)Finely chop 1 onion and cook it in 2 tbsp ghee (clarified butter). Also add 3 crushed cardamom pod, 3 cloves, some freshly ground black pepper, 1/2 tsp crushed dried chilli, 1 tsp turmeric, 2 tsp cumin seeds, 3 crushed garlic cloves, a cm piece of ginger finely minced, 2 tsp ground cinnamon, 2 tsp dried mint and 2 tsp klowunji seeds (if using). Cook until toasty, then add 200ml marsala.
2)Add 100g sultanas and 200g frozen peas and cook for about 5 minutes until the sultanas are nice and plump. Add 1 tin drained cannelini beans and continue to cook until they're piping hot, also add however much cooked, cold meat you want. Today it was lamb. Also add 100g chopped pistachios and flaked almonds.
3)Just before you serve, add 200ml natural yoghurt beaten with 2 eggs and a handful of chopped mint. Season with salt and be generous as the beans can take a lot.
It doesn't hurt either that this is very, very quick to make.
If you have any klowunji (Nigella) seeds on hand, they add a nice dimension, but if not, don't worry.
1)Finely chop 1 onion and cook it in 2 tbsp ghee (clarified butter). Also add 3 crushed cardamom pod, 3 cloves, some freshly ground black pepper, 1/2 tsp crushed dried chilli, 1 tsp turmeric, 2 tsp cumin seeds, 3 crushed garlic cloves, a cm piece of ginger finely minced, 2 tsp ground cinnamon, 2 tsp dried mint and 2 tsp klowunji seeds (if using). Cook until toasty, then add 200ml marsala.
2)Add 100g sultanas and 200g frozen peas and cook for about 5 minutes until the sultanas are nice and plump. Add 1 tin drained cannelini beans and continue to cook until they're piping hot, also add however much cooked, cold meat you want. Today it was lamb. Also add 100g chopped pistachios and flaked almonds.
3)Just before you serve, add 200ml natural yoghurt beaten with 2 eggs and a handful of chopped mint. Season with salt and be generous as the beans can take a lot.
Sunday 27 March 2016
Leeks In Cheese Sauce
Immediately, I'm sure many of you have come across this title and dismissed it as retro-mush. And fair enough, too. This kind of dish is very old-fashioned, but it's a shame terms such as 'retro', 'vintage' or 'old-fashioned' connote fashion, and I am the quintessential person who pushes against the current of what's cool at the moment. In food, it can be the best thing to invite dormant recipes back to the table; alright, old recipes that worked on the principle that everything is better suspended in jelly are perhaps better off fossilised, but things like this are perfect for revitalising.
It's very simple, to get a delicious cheese sauce, use delicious cheese. I love some Swiss in there, plus blue cheese and a bit of soft cheese (or cut out the middle man and use soft blue cheese like dolcelatte), mozzarella is lovely for stringiness, but bear in mind it doesn't have a lot of taste. For budget, I bulk out these more expensive cheeses with a cheap but good sharp cheddar or red Leicester (which helps for colour too) and some very hard cheese like parmesan. I have to say, I used to make white sauces where the roux was an insoluble thick ball of dough, like pastry that had to be diluted with milk, and the hateful job seemed to never end. I don't bother with that now, make the roux runny enough so it blends with the milk easily.
I made this as part of the main in a three course dinner party, but there's nothing to stop you having this as a day-to-day meal.
Take a nice pan that will go to the oven (think cast iron) and brown the leeks until soft and well coloured. Continue to cook until they're al dente soft. Remove the leeks to a plate and tip away any excess liquid before continuing.
Melt 80g butter into the caramel scorched pan and add 3 tbsp flour and 2 tso mustard powder. Stir until you have a smooth paste. Turn off the heat and add 1 litre full fat milk, stirring constantly to avoid lump stress. You don't need to heat the milk up so much here, as the dish needs to be wide and shallow so has a big surface area to heat the sauce up to thicken. Add approx. 250g grated cheese and stir off the heat until just melted. Season to taste with salt, pepper and nutmeg.
Return the leeks to the sauce and top with breadcrumbs and a little more grated cheddar cheese.
Bake in a hot oven until bubbling and golden, which only takes around 10 minutes as the leeks are already cooked.
I should tell you that this makes fabulous cauliflower cheese- steam florets of 1 head cauliflower for 6 minutes until slightly soft and line these over a baking dish. Pour over the cheese sauce made separately in a saucepan and crumble a bit more cheese on top. Add 2 tbsp breadcrumbs and bake for 15 minutes until bubbling and the cauliflower is hot all through. If you want to skip the steaming part, the cauliflower will go in raw but you will have a runnier sauce and you will need to bake it for about 35 minutes. This is fine, it's not as if you have to do anything in at the time. That is if you're not making hot fresh chips to go with this.
It's very simple, to get a delicious cheese sauce, use delicious cheese. I love some Swiss in there, plus blue cheese and a bit of soft cheese (or cut out the middle man and use soft blue cheese like dolcelatte), mozzarella is lovely for stringiness, but bear in mind it doesn't have a lot of taste. For budget, I bulk out these more expensive cheeses with a cheap but good sharp cheddar or red Leicester (which helps for colour too) and some very hard cheese like parmesan. I have to say, I used to make white sauces where the roux was an insoluble thick ball of dough, like pastry that had to be diluted with milk, and the hateful job seemed to never end. I don't bother with that now, make the roux runny enough so it blends with the milk easily.
I made this as part of the main in a three course dinner party, but there's nothing to stop you having this as a day-to-day meal.
Take a nice pan that will go to the oven (think cast iron) and brown the leeks until soft and well coloured. Continue to cook until they're al dente soft. Remove the leeks to a plate and tip away any excess liquid before continuing.
Melt 80g butter into the caramel scorched pan and add 3 tbsp flour and 2 tso mustard powder. Stir until you have a smooth paste. Turn off the heat and add 1 litre full fat milk, stirring constantly to avoid lump stress. You don't need to heat the milk up so much here, as the dish needs to be wide and shallow so has a big surface area to heat the sauce up to thicken. Add approx. 250g grated cheese and stir off the heat until just melted. Season to taste with salt, pepper and nutmeg.
Return the leeks to the sauce and top with breadcrumbs and a little more grated cheddar cheese.
Bake in a hot oven until bubbling and golden, which only takes around 10 minutes as the leeks are already cooked.
I should tell you that this makes fabulous cauliflower cheese- steam florets of 1 head cauliflower for 6 minutes until slightly soft and line these over a baking dish. Pour over the cheese sauce made separately in a saucepan and crumble a bit more cheese on top. Add 2 tbsp breadcrumbs and bake for 15 minutes until bubbling and the cauliflower is hot all through. If you want to skip the steaming part, the cauliflower will go in raw but you will have a runnier sauce and you will need to bake it for about 35 minutes. This is fine, it's not as if you have to do anything in at the time. That is if you're not making hot fresh chips to go with this.
Friday 25 March 2016
Simple Pheasant Breasts and Ginger Ice Cream Floats
I know I'm a bit eccentric in the kitchen, and quite often use more than necessary ingredients, so sometimes it is difficult to hold back and keep a recipe to its basics. This comes into its own most with good-quality game meats; take duck for example, all you need is a little orange and a good salad and the taste of the meat carries the meal the rest of the way. Here, it's pheasant breasts which I buy in vacuum packs from good butchers in fairly high quantity, freeze some and cook the rest there and then. All I need is a salad with a good, golden, gutsy dressing, creamy polenta, some crispy bacon and a red vermouth sauce. You needn't even dig out a chopping board.
I don't believe that dessert should be served just on special days; I don't mean you should prepare a massive pavlova day-to-day (although don't get me wrong I would if I could), but just some fresh fruit and chocolate or you can spruce up bought vanilla ice cream with chocolate peanut butter sauce, toasted hazelnuts and maple syrup, raisins or sultanas soaked in dark rum- the list is endless. One of my favourites is an ice cream float, an American invention that consists purely of a scoop of ice cream and whatever fizzy drink you like, the carbonation creating a thick layer of creamy foam (that foam can be punctuated with a little prickle of bourbon or vodka if you're that way inclined). I drink a lot of ginger beer because I love a good Shirley Temple sharpened with some lime or lemon, and it gives a delicious bit of bite to the pudding.
1)In a drizzle of oil, cook 4 pheasant breasts over high heat until the meat is seared, with the tiniest hint of rarity within. In the same pan, cook 4 rashers of smoked bacon until very crisp. Keep the pheasant warm in some foil meanwhile.
2)Mix up (roughly as this is to taste) 2:1 rapeseed oil and white wine vinegar with a good dash of dijon or English mustard and 1/2 tsp or so of sea salt. Add a little water until it's the right consistency. Use it to dress the salad at the last minute.
3)To serve 4, sprinkle 200g polenta over 800ml boiling salted water and stir immediately until slightly less thick than mashed potato (it will continue to thicken as it cools). From here on in it's exactly the same as mashed potato so add as much milk, butter and salt and pepper as you wish.
4)In the hot pan that the bacon was cooked in, bubble away 200ml red vermouth with pepper and a small handful of fresh sage, snipped in with kitchen scissors. That's everything for the main done!
5)Do the ice cream floats at the table for a bit of fun (I know, life of the party, right?), simply scoop a dollop of soft vanilla ice cream in the bottom of a tall glass and top with as much ginger beer as it can take before spilling, although when it does spill it's somehow wonderful.
I don't believe that dessert should be served just on special days; I don't mean you should prepare a massive pavlova day-to-day (although don't get me wrong I would if I could), but just some fresh fruit and chocolate or you can spruce up bought vanilla ice cream with chocolate peanut butter sauce, toasted hazelnuts and maple syrup, raisins or sultanas soaked in dark rum- the list is endless. One of my favourites is an ice cream float, an American invention that consists purely of a scoop of ice cream and whatever fizzy drink you like, the carbonation creating a thick layer of creamy foam (that foam can be punctuated with a little prickle of bourbon or vodka if you're that way inclined). I drink a lot of ginger beer because I love a good Shirley Temple sharpened with some lime or lemon, and it gives a delicious bit of bite to the pudding.
1)In a drizzle of oil, cook 4 pheasant breasts over high heat until the meat is seared, with the tiniest hint of rarity within. In the same pan, cook 4 rashers of smoked bacon until very crisp. Keep the pheasant warm in some foil meanwhile.
2)Mix up (roughly as this is to taste) 2:1 rapeseed oil and white wine vinegar with a good dash of dijon or English mustard and 1/2 tsp or so of sea salt. Add a little water until it's the right consistency. Use it to dress the salad at the last minute.
3)To serve 4, sprinkle 200g polenta over 800ml boiling salted water and stir immediately until slightly less thick than mashed potato (it will continue to thicken as it cools). From here on in it's exactly the same as mashed potato so add as much milk, butter and salt and pepper as you wish.
4)In the hot pan that the bacon was cooked in, bubble away 200ml red vermouth with pepper and a small handful of fresh sage, snipped in with kitchen scissors. That's everything for the main done!
5)Do the ice cream floats at the table for a bit of fun (I know, life of the party, right?), simply scoop a dollop of soft vanilla ice cream in the bottom of a tall glass and top with as much ginger beer as it can take before spilling, although when it does spill it's somehow wonderful.
Wednesday 23 March 2016
Stromboli
I absolutely detest the Americanisation of Italian food- a delicate and subtle cuisine has been obliterated and replaced with big plates of honking, brash sweet and salty foods with no creativity or fineness. Especially pizza, no delicate flavours, no thin crispy base, just as much cheese and silly toppings like steak as possible. However, this for once, cuts it. A rolled up pizza invented in New York that is simply divine.
As with any pizza, you can fill it how you want, these are just some of my favourite fillings. Try to go for ones that don't introduce too much moisture into the dough, such as mushrooms or lots of tomato sauce.
1)Combine 500g Italian '00' flour (of course you could use regular strong white bread flour, but I love the Italian stuff for pizza dough) plus 2 tsp salt, and here I use fine table salt as it dissolves easier into the dough. Add 1 tsp sugar and a 7g sachet of fast-action dry yeast, 40ml good olive oil and 300ml of regular cold tap water. Knead together to a dough, then knead vigorously for about 5-10 minutes until smooth and elastic. Do this by hand or in a machine.
2)Transfer to an oiled bowl and cover with clingfilm. Leave to rise at room temperature until doubled in size. About 2 hours.
3)Punch the dough down, like sinking your hands into just-slaughtered flesh, and leave to rest and relax for about 10 minutes. When it's had its time, transfer to a lightly oiled baking tin, fairly large and spread all to the corners. Be persistent and gentle and the dough will get there.
4)In a large frying pan cook about 5 rashers of smoked back bacon, nice and lean, until not crispy but well cooked, then deglaze the pan with a tbsp sherry vinegar.
5)Spread a few tbsp tomato puree all over the dough, excluding about an inch around the rim. Add the bacon, some grated sharp cheddar cheese, or any cheese you wanted, so handful of fresh rocket, then for seasoning a tsp of paprika, a drizzle of garlic oil, a tbsp dried oregano and the sherry vinegar.
6)Fold the two shorter sides of the stromboli in about an inch to seal, then roll the whole thing up from the longest side towards you. Have the seam at the bottom of the loaf. Cover with oiled clingfilm then prove again for another 45-60 minutes. Sometime within the proving time set the oven to 170 degrees Celsius.
7)Remove the cling, and drizzle with more garlic oil, oregano and paprika. I added sesame seeds hoping for extra crunch, but that didn't materialise.
8)Bake for about 35 minutes in the oven, made steamy with some water or ice cubes at the bottom, until the crust is crisp and it sounds hollow all over when tapped.
As with any pizza, you can fill it how you want, these are just some of my favourite fillings. Try to go for ones that don't introduce too much moisture into the dough, such as mushrooms or lots of tomato sauce.
1)Combine 500g Italian '00' flour (of course you could use regular strong white bread flour, but I love the Italian stuff for pizza dough) plus 2 tsp salt, and here I use fine table salt as it dissolves easier into the dough. Add 1 tsp sugar and a 7g sachet of fast-action dry yeast, 40ml good olive oil and 300ml of regular cold tap water. Knead together to a dough, then knead vigorously for about 5-10 minutes until smooth and elastic. Do this by hand or in a machine.
2)Transfer to an oiled bowl and cover with clingfilm. Leave to rise at room temperature until doubled in size. About 2 hours.
3)Punch the dough down, like sinking your hands into just-slaughtered flesh, and leave to rest and relax for about 10 minutes. When it's had its time, transfer to a lightly oiled baking tin, fairly large and spread all to the corners. Be persistent and gentle and the dough will get there.
4)In a large frying pan cook about 5 rashers of smoked back bacon, nice and lean, until not crispy but well cooked, then deglaze the pan with a tbsp sherry vinegar.
5)Spread a few tbsp tomato puree all over the dough, excluding about an inch around the rim. Add the bacon, some grated sharp cheddar cheese, or any cheese you wanted, so handful of fresh rocket, then for seasoning a tsp of paprika, a drizzle of garlic oil, a tbsp dried oregano and the sherry vinegar.
6)Fold the two shorter sides of the stromboli in about an inch to seal, then roll the whole thing up from the longest side towards you. Have the seam at the bottom of the loaf. Cover with oiled clingfilm then prove again for another 45-60 minutes. Sometime within the proving time set the oven to 170 degrees Celsius.
7)Remove the cling, and drizzle with more garlic oil, oregano and paprika. I added sesame seeds hoping for extra crunch, but that didn't materialise.
8)Bake for about 35 minutes in the oven, made steamy with some water or ice cubes at the bottom, until the crust is crisp and it sounds hollow all over when tapped.
Monday 21 March 2016
Tuna Steaks with Watermelon, Feta and Black Bean Salad
When a TV chef I've grown fond of brings out a hotly-anticipated new episode or book and changes their tone to trendy superfood and healthy eating, I somehow feel betrayed. Maybe it's because I feel that if they present episodes of fattening and sugary plates of food, then I can do the same in my own kitchen? I don't know, and it is this odd viewpoint I take that has led me to state very explicitly that this recipe is not designed to be incredibly nourishing, low-fat or any other adjectives that induces immovable guilt (or smugness, for some), it is coincidentally good for you. I'm not saying I'm not glad that it is healthy, I go in temple-food moods occasionally and it's a quite enjoyable if irritating state to be in, but you should only eat this because it tastes delicious.
I'm more than a little proud that I managed to create a dish that gels so well together, and if I were ever to write a cook book then this meal would be included in a 'quick and easy' section, because they're exactly what this meal is. I buy frozen tuna steaks for this as it's cheaper and more practical, as tuna steaks must be eaten on the day of purchase, although if I fancy indulging myself I will of course by fresh.
An issue with this meal, well, less of an issue just a matter, is that it appears to have no source. Feta from Greece, watermelon isn't very authentic anywhere, and black beans and lime flavours from Mexico? Whatever, you know I love being a free spirit.
1)Set a griddle, or frying pan lined with a thin layer of olive oil on to medium-high heat.
2)Chop half a medium watermelon into rough dice, then dump a drained tin of black beans (which are disappointingly a bit more purple-brown than black) plus three finely chopped spring onions, the juice of half a lime, 200g chopped feta, a head of chopped coriander and plenty of sea salt flakes. You don't need any oil to dress it, as it wouldn't emulsify and coat the watermelon properly. Toss altogether and set aside.
3)If you're using fresh tuna, cook for a brief couple of minutes on each side, with a little oil on them and salt and pepper scrunched on either side of the fillet and if frozen do the same but thaw them! These of course can be cooked from frozen, believe it or not fish is very obliging about being cooked straight from the icy depths, but it's inadvisable here as you can't achieve rareness. In both cases, you want defined grill lines. And that's it!
Sunday 20 March 2016
Alexander Pavlova
I don't expect any of you to follow this blog to such a loyal extent, but you may have noticed my mild absence recently. This, in fact, is a good thing; over the last week, instead of cooking up fresh ideas, I've been going over my good, everyday recipes such as my beetroot lasagne, fried chicken, and discovered numerous improvements which I've updated the recipe with. Indeed this is unreliable as you may never if you're cooking the best version of the recipe (although I'm not proposing anyone has actually used this blog to cook from) but I feel calmer in this relaxed, slightly repetitive paradigm of meals that I've already cooked.
Pavlova on the other hand is something that I've always thought I'm okay at making. 3 egg whites, 175g caster sugar, a bit of cornflour and vinegar, cook for a long time at a low temperature. Bob's your uncle. However, that was until I discovered the epitome of Australian food writing- Stephanie Alexander, who obviously knows a thing or two about pavlova. She recommended many extra steps (the divine revelation that you should flip the pavlova over before cream is piled on), and along with my own tips (half brown sugar and less weight of sugar, for example) I created a fabulous, and I won't say perfect because what a vile description that is, pavlova. I've also named this Alexander because the bulkiness and tan colour of the cooked meringue reminds me very much of a boy in my triple science class who shares the prestigious title of 'Alex'. I do hope he comes across this post one day...
To make meringues at a pinch, 'pinch' being a total lie because meringue can't be made quickly, whenever a recipe requires just egg yolk, freeze the white in a bag, and thaw it and allow to come to room temperature before making this.
1)Add a pinch of salt to 4 egg whites and whisk on high until soft peaks form, meaning when the whisk is lifted out a peak remains but it flops on itself. You can use salt and lemon juice or cream of tartar which you can get in little sachets free in magazines, how satisfying is that? When the egg whites are that stiff, add 100g light brown sugar and 120g caster mixed together, about a quarter at a time, low speed at first, and then when all the sugar is mixed in, whip to high until the meringue holds in stiff peaks. If you're brave, hold the meringue over your head, it shouldn't budge.
2)Slurry (what a fantastic word, right?) 2 tsp cornflour and 1 tsp red or white wine vinegar together, and because I'm topping the pavlova with forest fruits, a small pinch of cinnamon and vanilla extract. Fold it into the meringue well. I won't always add cinnamon, but a slightly darker meringue, the lightest brown (I don't mean the colour of smutty lingerie) and the caramel flavour courtesy of brown sugar is exquisite.
3)Use the folding spoon to dab tiny bits of meringue on the corner of the baking sheet, a tip I learned from Lorraine Pascale when she was making macarons, I believe. This will ensure the baking parchment doesn't shuffle. Dollop the meringue on top, and level it to a very smooth, flat circle. You can draw a circle on the parchment so the pavlova is perfectly round, but who in their right mind wants to spend their time doing that?
4)Place the meringue into a hot 180 degree oven, then shut the door and turn the heat down immediately to 150. Leave for 30 minutes, then turn down to 120 and cook for 45 minutes. If your oven doesn't adjust temperature very quickly or accurately, you may have better luck putting the pav in at 120 for two hours.
5)Leave the meringue to cool completely in the oven before opening it. You can do this overnight.
6)For the fruit, Stephanie often uses passion fruit which are much more plentiful in blue Australia, but not grey Britain. In New Zealand, kiwis are often used, the flavour I love but the colour doesn't go with anything. I use berries and a dash of creme de cassis. Coat 500g frozen berries in 3 tbsp caster sugar, then heat them on high for about 5 minutes, until when you draw a finger down the back of the wooden spoon drenched in the juice, the line remains. Leave to cool completely before adding 200g fresh raspberries and a generous few tbsp cassis.
7)Don't dress the dessert long before you serve it- whip 500ml double cream to very soft peaks, and set aside whilst you invert the pav. Flip it over onto the serving plate or cake stand and peel off the paper. This works because the chewy marshmallow interior clashes with the smooth cream, and the bottom and sides remain crisp. Swathe the pav with the cream, and then the berry compote, trying to get a bit of central height. Serve to a crowd unafraid of fattening food. Like my dear friend who's namesake is this dessert.
Tuesday 15 March 2016
Muttar Paneer with Middle-Eastern Chickpea and Celery Salad
My humble father took an Indian cookery course in 1996, belive-it-or-not. I found the document, and looked through the many coffee-coloured, old, crisp pages, dripping with inspiration. After being reminded of a dry cauliflower curry, which I hope to make again, I also found this curry. Along with a lot of concentrated Indian cooking knowledge, I decided to take this odd dish with me.
Muttar paneer is a widely-eaten curry made of spiced peas and a bland, semi-hard cheese called paneer. Like halloumi, it doesn't go gooey, but unlike halloumi it has no flavour, just a vertiginous capacity to absorb it. If you can find it buy it, but it's surprisingly easy to make; I feel very accomplished in life if I make my own cheese.
With all the washing and boiling of rice, and the piles of starch that are eaten but just sit in my stomach as wasted energy, I don't cook it too often. My substitute, this more easterly salad of some of my favourite instant sides, avocado and chickpeas, plus some lovely aniseedy celery and a dressing somewhat reminiscent of a deconstructed hummus, but with lovely sweet cumin seeds. It seems extra work than just putting rice on, but trust me on this. Although, talking of trust, I should mention I haven't passed on a 'tell them I said;' in my entire life. Maybe have rice with this.
1)Boil 4 pints of milk (a perfect use for when you've bought too much and it will go out of date too soon), and then immediately throw in 8 tbsp white wine vinegar, you could use lemon juice, but I found vinegar much more effective. Once the curds separate, don't stir. Pour into a sieve, and very gently stir it to help it drain. When it's fairly dry, dump into a tea towel, squeeze any more liquid out, and press a chopping board on top, then a pan full of water. Leave to sit for a minimum of 15 minutes.
2)Meanwhile, chop two large onions finely, 2 tsp fresh chopped ginger, 4 crushed cloves of garlic and a green chilli, it's worth keeping the seeds in here. When that's all incredibly soft and mushy, add 1 tsp turmeric, 1 tsp paprika and 1 1/2 tsp garam masala. Add 1 tin of chopped tomatoes, plus half of the volume of the swilled out can of water. Let that simmer gently whilst you further prepare the paneer.
3)Heat a large pan of vegetable oil gently, then drop in cubes of the paneer and deep-fry until golden. Drain on kitchen paper.
4)Add 6 ounces frozen peas, and cook until thawed. Add the paneer cubes and cook for a further 2-3 minutes.
5)Coarsley chop two sticks of celery, with their tough strings removed with a vegetable peeler. Also chop an avocado in your hand, by drawing a criss-cross within the skin, then scoop out the cubes.
6)To a drained tin of chickpeas, mix 2 tbsp tahini, the juice of one lemon, a pinch of paprika, about 2 tbsp natural yoghurt and plenty of salt and caraway or cumin (both will give a different effect, though) seeds. The dressing will likely be too thick, so add a few tsp water to thin. Mix in the celery, but keep the avocado undressed on top, bar a little spritz of lemon to stop it browning. Serve this salad with some chopped coriander or mint if you like and the curry.
1)Boil 4 pints of milk (a perfect use for when you've bought too much and it will go out of date too soon), and then immediately throw in 8 tbsp white wine vinegar, you could use lemon juice, but I found vinegar much more effective. Once the curds separate, don't stir. Pour into a sieve, and very gently stir it to help it drain. When it's fairly dry, dump into a tea towel, squeeze any more liquid out, and press a chopping board on top, then a pan full of water. Leave to sit for a minimum of 15 minutes.
2)Meanwhile, chop two large onions finely, 2 tsp fresh chopped ginger, 4 crushed cloves of garlic and a green chilli, it's worth keeping the seeds in here. When that's all incredibly soft and mushy, add 1 tsp turmeric, 1 tsp paprika and 1 1/2 tsp garam masala. Add 1 tin of chopped tomatoes, plus half of the volume of the swilled out can of water. Let that simmer gently whilst you further prepare the paneer.
3)Heat a large pan of vegetable oil gently, then drop in cubes of the paneer and deep-fry until golden. Drain on kitchen paper.
4)Add 6 ounces frozen peas, and cook until thawed. Add the paneer cubes and cook for a further 2-3 minutes.
5)Coarsley chop two sticks of celery, with their tough strings removed with a vegetable peeler. Also chop an avocado in your hand, by drawing a criss-cross within the skin, then scoop out the cubes.
6)To a drained tin of chickpeas, mix 2 tbsp tahini, the juice of one lemon, a pinch of paprika, about 2 tbsp natural yoghurt and plenty of salt and caraway or cumin (both will give a different effect, though) seeds. The dressing will likely be too thick, so add a few tsp water to thin. Mix in the celery, but keep the avocado undressed on top, bar a little spritz of lemon to stop it browning. Serve this salad with some chopped coriander or mint if you like and the curry.
Monday 14 March 2016
Banana Bread
I have made many a banana bread in my baking career, and I don't want to stop. Recently, it seems to be one of few cakes I can't keep my hands off once I've baked it. This recipe, which came to me via a cheap YouTube how-to channel needed a bit of spicing up, and many innovations I've spiced it with- golden sultanas that have lustfully soaked up one or two shots of dark rum, for example. However, it's less important that it's rum, moreso that you don't want chunks of old lady skin lurking menacingly at the bottom of your banana bread. Whether it's apple juice or Nelson's Blood, you need the sultanas to be plump and soft.
Deliciousness aside, banana bread is exceptionally practical as a final destination of bananas that have gone grotesque in old age. I don't eat bananas just as a fruit because to me, on their own without their overripeness, they are just like compressed logs of mashed potato, they don't have enough fruitiness. However, when they go brown and they get cooked with other flavours, they claim their true flavour, and turn into a baroque loaf of moist cake. Waste not want not and all that, I bake this because I don't want to waste food obviously.
1)Preheat the oven to a moderately low 160 oven (it needs a good hour at a low temperature) and grease and cocoa powder (dust the butter with cocoa powder rather than flour for a light chocolate breath on the crust) a loaf tin.
2)Over a light heat in a small saucepan or simply in a microwave, soak 100g golden sultanas or regular sultanas or raisins in a generous shot or two of dark rum. Once they've soaked most of it up, set aside to cool.
3)Combine 200g plain flour, plus 1 tsp each cinnamon, baking powder and bicarbonate of soda into a large bowl.
4)Whisk 2 eggs and 225g light brown sugar with 1 tsp good vanilla extract until light and thickened, then gradually pour 125ml plain vegetable oil until fully blended. Mix in 3 ripe bananas, coarsely mashed.
5)Fold the dry ingredients into the wet, and then when they are fully combined, add your sultanas and a handful of chopped walnuts if you like.
6)Bake the loaf for about an hour, but obviously be fluid, turn down the heat if it browns too quickly, but don't open the oven door during the first 2/3 of the bake.
7)Leave to cool in the tin for a few minutes then turn out onto a cooling rack. It tastes even better the next day.
Deliciousness aside, banana bread is exceptionally practical as a final destination of bananas that have gone grotesque in old age. I don't eat bananas just as a fruit because to me, on their own without their overripeness, they are just like compressed logs of mashed potato, they don't have enough fruitiness. However, when they go brown and they get cooked with other flavours, they claim their true flavour, and turn into a baroque loaf of moist cake. Waste not want not and all that, I bake this because I don't want to waste food obviously.
1)Preheat the oven to a moderately low 160 oven (it needs a good hour at a low temperature) and grease and cocoa powder (dust the butter with cocoa powder rather than flour for a light chocolate breath on the crust) a loaf tin.
2)Over a light heat in a small saucepan or simply in a microwave, soak 100g golden sultanas or regular sultanas or raisins in a generous shot or two of dark rum. Once they've soaked most of it up, set aside to cool.
3)Combine 200g plain flour, plus 1 tsp each cinnamon, baking powder and bicarbonate of soda into a large bowl.
4)Whisk 2 eggs and 225g light brown sugar with 1 tsp good vanilla extract until light and thickened, then gradually pour 125ml plain vegetable oil until fully blended. Mix in 3 ripe bananas, coarsely mashed.
5)Fold the dry ingredients into the wet, and then when they are fully combined, add your sultanas and a handful of chopped walnuts if you like.
6)Bake the loaf for about an hour, but obviously be fluid, turn down the heat if it browns too quickly, but don't open the oven door during the first 2/3 of the bake.
7)Leave to cool in the tin for a few minutes then turn out onto a cooling rack. It tastes even better the next day.
Sunday 13 March 2016
Blood Orange and Poppy Seed Madeleines
The great Gordon Ramsay has taken somewhat of a hold on my cooking. It's a shame that his extremely foul-mouthed and furious reputation has clouded what he truly is- a fantastic chef. Although his explanation is a bit more curt and frank than another celebrity chef like the great Nigel Slater, his episodes are comprehensive and provide easy recipes and slightly more challenging ones. This recipe, for me, is in the intermediate category, but for anyone who isn't as useless at cake baking these are an easy.
2)Sieve in 80g plain flour and 3/4 tsp baking powder, and fold in with the zest of one blood orange and 1 tbsp poppy seeds until smooth. Folding is a gentle process, but you must be forceful with your actions, don't fold it so lightly nothing combines well.
3)Down the side of the bowl, pour in 75g cooled melted butter (unsalted) and fold that in thoroughly.
4)Set this batter aside overnight in the fridge, so you get delicious light madeleines the following morning, although make them right away if you want, but make sure the next two steps are done in advance of baking them.
5)Spread melted butter throughout a madeleine tin, then sieve in some plain flour, tap the tin so any excess flour comes out.
6)Preheat the oven to 170 degrees Celsius.
7)Decant the mixture into a jug and pour equal (well, equal-ish) blobs of batter (that has been allowed to come to room temperature) into the tin, then bake for 10 minutes or so, until golden and risen. If you've done well, then a good mound, 'nipple', should have formed on the top of the madeleine. Turn them out, and serve warm.
Madeleines are beautiful, shell-shaped cakes from France, usually eaten for breakfast with some coffee, although there's a case for eating these as an equivalent to a coffee and amaretti biscuits after an Italian meal (but of course, make it a French meal here). They're perhaps most famous for the role they played in Proust's epic novel exploring how memories are accidentally triggered- madeleines are a truly evocative cake as you will see. Ramsay used lemon and poppy seed, but I'm all about the blood oranges, which I'm stocking up on in the freezer before they go out of season because their flavour is just sublime, much better than a regular orange which are all water and no zestiness. If you don't have a madeleine tin, and why should you, they're not exactly the most versatile of tins, then just use a small muffin tin. I won't go near mine though, whenever I see it in the cupboard I scowl and telepathically tell it that it has no purpose in life.1)You could do this with an electric mixer, but when I saw Gordon doing it in just a few minutes with a balloon whisk, I felt like my masculinity would be compromised if I didn't do the same. It took a bit longer to get three eggs and 80g caster sugar to a pale and very thick consistency, like a slightly tarnished soft meringue, about 20 minutes for me? But I swear my left bicep has increased in size since.
2)Sieve in 80g plain flour and 3/4 tsp baking powder, and fold in with the zest of one blood orange and 1 tbsp poppy seeds until smooth. Folding is a gentle process, but you must be forceful with your actions, don't fold it so lightly nothing combines well.
3)Down the side of the bowl, pour in 75g cooled melted butter (unsalted) and fold that in thoroughly.
4)Set this batter aside overnight in the fridge, so you get delicious light madeleines the following morning, although make them right away if you want, but make sure the next two steps are done in advance of baking them.
5)Spread melted butter throughout a madeleine tin, then sieve in some plain flour, tap the tin so any excess flour comes out.
6)Preheat the oven to 170 degrees Celsius.
7)Decant the mixture into a jug and pour equal (well, equal-ish) blobs of batter (that has been allowed to come to room temperature) into the tin, then bake for 10 minutes or so, until golden and risen. If you've done well, then a good mound, 'nipple', should have formed on the top of the madeleine. Turn them out, and serve warm.
Thursday 10 March 2016
Japanese Salmon with Watercress, Avocado and Soya Beans
It's a scary thing to say, but I've been struggling for inspiration in the kitchen recently. If you follow my blog, but I highly doubt anyone has this closely, you may notice that I have posted recipes that I'm slightly ambiguous about, asked myself if I really did like it , decided on no, and regretfully deleted a few days later. It's terrible if I want to do real cook book writing one day, but I'll only bother developing and posting a recipe if it's good on the first go; if a recipe is truly bad to start off with, I can't make it any better, and there lay many ideas left abandoned, waiting to be developed through my extensive foodie archives. However, what does quite often happen is I'll go back to a successful recipe, notice a few improvements and update the post, and I feel much less bad about that then simply deleting it. Unfortunately, most of my recent attempts at food ended up a failure, and I wondered, with a petty hopelessness, what was I going to do? I breathed out, or more coarsely, I stopped being a snob.
What I mean by that is I relaxed my fundamentals in cooking, and didn't bother sticking rigidly to tradition. A good example of this is in Asian food- since I'm not knowledgeable enough about that region of cooking, I don't feel I can play with flavours, so I try and cook something with a name with ultimate tradition, so I can be sure it tastes good, and I don't offend any Asian food purists. However, this means I buy ingredients that never get a second use and I don't get a chance to exercise my own creativity, so I've let this tedious rule go. Therefore, today I decided to use Japanese flavours from my storcupboard to whip this up; entirely Japanese in essence, but without any particular pinpoint of inspiration. Despite this new loose attitude, I still can't, and never will, abide the disgraceful term 'fusion food'. Stupid arrogance has led to innovations that take ingredients and themes from two entirely different cuisines and attempt to bind them together. Think about it, would you rather a real, Spanish street food treat, or a concoction pitched somewhere between Jamaican food and Spanish? You'd end up somewhere in the Caribbean Sea, and it would taste as revolting as the seawater.
Anyway, enough nonsense, this salmon (which I buy cook from frozen, and it's more practical than buying fresh, although taste is slightly sacrificed) is infused lusciously with lime leaves, sake and wasabi and is served over a peppery salad of watercress, with that sprightliness countered by semi-spheres of creamy, cooling avocado and a lovely scattering of soft, sweet edemame beans. It may be the crazy mathematician inside me, but I do think it works a lot better if you flake the salmon over the greens rather than serve the whole fillets along side. Trust me.
More advantages of this dish are it is incredibly quick and easy, very healthy, and the new ingredients you have acquired can be used for many delicious Japanese recipes- think sushi and chicken teriyaki, all here on Prawnsandhummus.
1)In a small bowl, whisk 2 tbsp of sake with 1 1/2 tsp wasabi paste, and whisk well with some coarse sea salt and 2 tbsp vegetable oil. Drizzle over 4 salmon fillets in a foil packet, and top with some broken up lime leaves. Bake at 180 for about 15 minutes, until tender and hot. This is the timing I would suggest for fillets you cook from frozen- if you're going for fresh I'd say two is plenty to serve 4 as they tend to be bigger and only cook them for about 7 minutes- ideally you're looking for them to be a bit coral within.
2)Take the salmon out and leave to stand whilst you tip two bags of washed watercress onto a plate or salad bowl, and dress with a teeny bit of toasted sesame oil, and then take a small rounded teaspoon and scoop out curls of avocado from the opened fruit. Place ontop of the watercress, dress with lime juice, flake the salmon over the top, along with a little of its cooking liquor and for a tiny little further seasoning, flakes of nori (seaweed) torn or snipped over the top. For the beans take about 175g frozen and either steam or microwave until they're tender. Fresh coriander leaves would not be out of place here, either.
What I mean by that is I relaxed my fundamentals in cooking, and didn't bother sticking rigidly to tradition. A good example of this is in Asian food- since I'm not knowledgeable enough about that region of cooking, I don't feel I can play with flavours, so I try and cook something with a name with ultimate tradition, so I can be sure it tastes good, and I don't offend any Asian food purists. However, this means I buy ingredients that never get a second use and I don't get a chance to exercise my own creativity, so I've let this tedious rule go. Therefore, today I decided to use Japanese flavours from my storcupboard to whip this up; entirely Japanese in essence, but without any particular pinpoint of inspiration. Despite this new loose attitude, I still can't, and never will, abide the disgraceful term 'fusion food'. Stupid arrogance has led to innovations that take ingredients and themes from two entirely different cuisines and attempt to bind them together. Think about it, would you rather a real, Spanish street food treat, or a concoction pitched somewhere between Jamaican food and Spanish? You'd end up somewhere in the Caribbean Sea, and it would taste as revolting as the seawater.
Anyway, enough nonsense, this salmon (which I buy cook from frozen, and it's more practical than buying fresh, although taste is slightly sacrificed) is infused lusciously with lime leaves, sake and wasabi and is served over a peppery salad of watercress, with that sprightliness countered by semi-spheres of creamy, cooling avocado and a lovely scattering of soft, sweet edemame beans. It may be the crazy mathematician inside me, but I do think it works a lot better if you flake the salmon over the greens rather than serve the whole fillets along side. Trust me.
More advantages of this dish are it is incredibly quick and easy, very healthy, and the new ingredients you have acquired can be used for many delicious Japanese recipes- think sushi and chicken teriyaki, all here on Prawnsandhummus.
1)In a small bowl, whisk 2 tbsp of sake with 1 1/2 tsp wasabi paste, and whisk well with some coarse sea salt and 2 tbsp vegetable oil. Drizzle over 4 salmon fillets in a foil packet, and top with some broken up lime leaves. Bake at 180 for about 15 minutes, until tender and hot. This is the timing I would suggest for fillets you cook from frozen- if you're going for fresh I'd say two is plenty to serve 4 as they tend to be bigger and only cook them for about 7 minutes- ideally you're looking for them to be a bit coral within.
2)Take the salmon out and leave to stand whilst you tip two bags of washed watercress onto a plate or salad bowl, and dress with a teeny bit of toasted sesame oil, and then take a small rounded teaspoon and scoop out curls of avocado from the opened fruit. Place ontop of the watercress, dress with lime juice, flake the salmon over the top, along with a little of its cooking liquor and for a tiny little further seasoning, flakes of nori (seaweed) torn or snipped over the top. For the beans take about 175g frozen and either steam or microwave until they're tender. Fresh coriander leaves would not be out of place here, either.
Tuesday 8 March 2016
Campfire Cupcakes
I have simply given up on trying to make cakes look good with some elaborate decoration. I simply cannot do it. Therefore, I set out to bake cakes that look good without excessive and lurid, bake-off style decoration; things like an upside-down fruit cake, they are capable of looking beautiful on their own terms. However, today I fancied cupcakes, and that particular paradigm doesn't work, they need some sort of decoration, icing. And this is where my rules set in (I'm a bit of a purist unfortunately, you see): I cannot abide food colouring, the icing must be pure white or nothing (but you will see I contradict myself on this later), the most embellishments on top of the cupcake must be a maximum of a sugar flower or edible ball bearings. Lastly, simple flavours make the best cupcake. You're at home, not in a bakery. Get over yourself.
Onto my contradiction, I iced these basic lemon and vanilla cupcakes with a fabulous glossy marshmallow, and fancied toasting them under the grill. And I burned them, call it stumbling at the last hurdle. As a result, I decided to call them campfire cupcakes, because marshmallows are supposed to be burned, right? RIGHT?!
1)Preheat the oven to 170 degrees, and line a muffin tin with paper cases.
2)Sometimes I use stork, and more often unsalted butter that's been softened, either way, cream 150g of it with 150g caster sugar until light and fluffy. Add the zest of one lemon, and beat in one egg and a third of 150g plain flour with one teaspoon of baking powder and half of bicarbonate of soda, then add another egg, another third, then the final egg, the rest of the dry ingredients and the juice of the lemon, and a teaspoon of good vanilla extract, or paste. Once everything is completely combined, add 2 tbsp milk to get the batter to a nice dropping consistency, but remember (unlike I did) to take the milk out of the fridge before you start, or the batter will just curdle.
2)Use an ice cream scoop to dollop equal spoonfuls of batter into the tin, and bake for 10-15 minutes until spongy and golden brown. Yes, a cliché though it now is, a skewer inserted in the biggest cupcake will come out clean.
3)While the cakes are baking, separate 4 eggs, so you get the whites in a large bowl. I used to do this by flipping the yolk between its halved self, but I always broke the yolk then, and when some gets in the whites the whole concoction is contaminated and you have to start over. You're not supposed to, but I just crack the egg in my hand and let the whites fall out between my fingers. Add 1 cup of granulated sugar, a pinch of fine salt, and juice 1/2 lemon.
4)What you're making here is marshmallow, and although you usually use gelatin for this, egg whites were the original way of making marshmallows before confectioners decided to innovate for money. Set the bowl over a pan of gently simmering water, after the ingredients have been combined with a large whisk, and whisk more until the sugar dissolves and the mixture is hot to the touch. Then, transfer to an electric whisk and whisk for about 4 minutes, until the marshmallow is incredibly stiff and glossy.
5)Use a small palette knife to spread a generous dollop of marshmallow onto each cupcake, and spread it around, making peaks and swirls as you do so. Heat a grill, then place the cupcakes under it (so you may aswell keep the cupcakes in their tin) for just about 30 seconds, until brown (or a lovely shade of charcoal black for me).
Onto my contradiction, I iced these basic lemon and vanilla cupcakes with a fabulous glossy marshmallow, and fancied toasting them under the grill. And I burned them, call it stumbling at the last hurdle. As a result, I decided to call them campfire cupcakes, because marshmallows are supposed to be burned, right? RIGHT?!
1)Preheat the oven to 170 degrees, and line a muffin tin with paper cases.
2)Sometimes I use stork, and more often unsalted butter that's been softened, either way, cream 150g of it with 150g caster sugar until light and fluffy. Add the zest of one lemon, and beat in one egg and a third of 150g plain flour with one teaspoon of baking powder and half of bicarbonate of soda, then add another egg, another third, then the final egg, the rest of the dry ingredients and the juice of the lemon, and a teaspoon of good vanilla extract, or paste. Once everything is completely combined, add 2 tbsp milk to get the batter to a nice dropping consistency, but remember (unlike I did) to take the milk out of the fridge before you start, or the batter will just curdle.
2)Use an ice cream scoop to dollop equal spoonfuls of batter into the tin, and bake for 10-15 minutes until spongy and golden brown. Yes, a cliché though it now is, a skewer inserted in the biggest cupcake will come out clean.
3)While the cakes are baking, separate 4 eggs, so you get the whites in a large bowl. I used to do this by flipping the yolk between its halved self, but I always broke the yolk then, and when some gets in the whites the whole concoction is contaminated and you have to start over. You're not supposed to, but I just crack the egg in my hand and let the whites fall out between my fingers. Add 1 cup of granulated sugar, a pinch of fine salt, and juice 1/2 lemon.
4)What you're making here is marshmallow, and although you usually use gelatin for this, egg whites were the original way of making marshmallows before confectioners decided to innovate for money. Set the bowl over a pan of gently simmering water, after the ingredients have been combined with a large whisk, and whisk more until the sugar dissolves and the mixture is hot to the touch. Then, transfer to an electric whisk and whisk for about 4 minutes, until the marshmallow is incredibly stiff and glossy.
5)Use a small palette knife to spread a generous dollop of marshmallow onto each cupcake, and spread it around, making peaks and swirls as you do so. Heat a grill, then place the cupcakes under it (so you may aswell keep the cupcakes in their tin) for just about 30 seconds, until brown (or a lovely shade of charcoal black for me).
Wednesday 2 March 2016
Gok Wan's speedy Pork Noodles
This may be a little embarrassing to say, but I did find Gok Wan's Chinese cooking programme thoroughly engaging, and a highly valuable guide for when I want to cook Chinese food quickly, and that's an awful lot. I found his presenting style accessible, unpretentious and specific, telling me exactly what I need when. The poetry and deep-rooted rules of Chinese cooking, such as chillies being red to represent good fortune and joy, and the importance of preparation and ingredients were all things that made the cuisine shine, and I found no better way to try and understand it than with a man known for fashion programmes. Something that rather alienates me entirely.
I think the secret ingredient here was shrimp paste- an intensely savoury, fermented prawn paste, that gave a very powerful, Asian, meaty flavour. Other than that, the ingredients were easy and accessible, but most importantly quick-cook, stand-by ingredients.
1)Possibly the most important lesson with Chinese cooking Wan taught me was, that since everything is stir-fried in an incredibly hot wok, you need to have everything ready prepared, meaning you chop everything, place it in bowls and have everything in your grasp before you start creating fire. If you have to run and grab things from the store cupboard whilst things are cooking, you will not have a beguiling and tasty pan of Chinese street food, but a pan of mildly oriental charcoal. Be ready.
2)Finely slice a large piece of ginger, and finely chop two fat garlic cloves. Slice a fillet of pork tenderloin into strips, remembering this is street food, so nothing finicky is necessary. Finely shred some carrots, or use thinly sliced broccoli (stem included) as I did. Julienne some spring onions, and boil and drain some egg noodles (or use straight-to-wok).
3)Heat some groundnut oil in a wok, and set it to high-heat. Stir-fry the pork, until the meat is sealed and slightly brown, then, keeping heat on, transfer it to some foil and wrap it up tightly.
4)Cook the spring onions, garlic, ginger and broccoli (add the carrots just before serving if using them) until they are 'tendercrisp' (cooked but still a bit toothsome). Add about three teaspoons of shrimp paste, and add some water until the shrimp paste dissolves and you have a slightly thick stock. Return the pork, cook for a little longer, then toss the noodles through, and serve lightly drizzled with toasted sesame oil
I think the secret ingredient here was shrimp paste- an intensely savoury, fermented prawn paste, that gave a very powerful, Asian, meaty flavour. Other than that, the ingredients were easy and accessible, but most importantly quick-cook, stand-by ingredients.
1)Possibly the most important lesson with Chinese cooking Wan taught me was, that since everything is stir-fried in an incredibly hot wok, you need to have everything ready prepared, meaning you chop everything, place it in bowls and have everything in your grasp before you start creating fire. If you have to run and grab things from the store cupboard whilst things are cooking, you will not have a beguiling and tasty pan of Chinese street food, but a pan of mildly oriental charcoal. Be ready.
2)Finely slice a large piece of ginger, and finely chop two fat garlic cloves. Slice a fillet of pork tenderloin into strips, remembering this is street food, so nothing finicky is necessary. Finely shred some carrots, or use thinly sliced broccoli (stem included) as I did. Julienne some spring onions, and boil and drain some egg noodles (or use straight-to-wok).
3)Heat some groundnut oil in a wok, and set it to high-heat. Stir-fry the pork, until the meat is sealed and slightly brown, then, keeping heat on, transfer it to some foil and wrap it up tightly.
4)Cook the spring onions, garlic, ginger and broccoli (add the carrots just before serving if using them) until they are 'tendercrisp' (cooked but still a bit toothsome). Add about three teaspoons of shrimp paste, and add some water until the shrimp paste dissolves and you have a slightly thick stock. Return the pork, cook for a little longer, then toss the noodles through, and serve lightly drizzled with toasted sesame oil
Tuesday 1 March 2016
Blood Orange Bundt Cake
If the alliterating name of this sultry sponge has grabbed you, you need to make it quickly. Here in England, blood oranges are only available for a brief period after February. They're very affordable (mine came in at 5 for a pound) and utterly, utterly divine in flavour; they're somehow sweeter and tangier than their dull, self-descriptive counterpart? Having said that, blood oranges are no more imaginative in name. They too state the obvious, in that the flesh is, incredibly, the red tone of blood. All the better to squeeze and zest violently into a cake batter.
As I have said a few times before, there now lies a dingy crater in my heart which was once filled with an intense romantic relationship with cake making. I was in love with the tender crumb of cakes before I knew what love even was. Somehow, after I took a hiatus from baking, I couldn't manage to successfully get back into cake making. It's taken a little more originality in inspiration for my cakes, and 0 level of difficulty and idiot-proof preparation to start giving it another go. Everyone needs a little love again. Do they need the excessive sugar of this recipe? We'll see. Just buy blood oranges while you still can.
This thought occurred to me, not long ago, and way after 2 years when I first posted this. I love any sort of polenta cake, and these days it's almost selfish to not give a gluten free alternative. So, with that in mind replace the flour weight with half ground almonds and half fine polenta.
1)I know this is obnoxiously chef-y, but I find everything so much easier if you have already the ingredients laid out (at room temperature, or if like me the room temperature is scarcely different from a school assembly hall, the butter been warmed slightly in a microwave so it's soft) and have your bundt pan (if you don't have one then a loaf pan, or indeed any round cake pan, will be excellent too) well greased, easiest way to do this I think is an oil spray. The kind used for people on a diet. And we're making cake with it. Aha. Preheat the oven to 170 degrees, and zest and juice 3 blood oranges. Weigh out 200g plain flour, 1 1/2 tsp baking powder and 1/2 tsp salt, and set the dry ingredients aside.
2)In a large bowl, cream 200g of soft butter, 200g of caster sugar and the orange zest until light and creamy, then have a scrape down the sides, and prepare to add flour and eggs. You can fold the flour in, but this is a bit easier, especially when there's juice which dilutes and thus more risk of the batter curdling. Add 1 egg, a rough 1/4 of the dry ingredients, about 1/2 tsp orange flower water, and 1/4 the blood orange juice. Blend until it's all incorporated, then scrape down the sides and proceed with the remaining 3/4 of the ingredients (but no more orange flower water, unless a bleach-flavoured cake is your thang), 1/4 at a time.
3)When everything is thoroughly combined, and very light, pour the batter into the tin, and bake for about 40 minutes. Do not open the door whilst cooking, apart from after the first 2/3 cooking when you can start checking its colour. If the cake is not done (skewer comes out laden with batter) but the top looks it, be prepared to lower temperature so the whole cake cooks evenly.
4)Leave the cake to cool in the tin, whilst you prepare a syrup to drench the cake with. In a small saucepan, dissolve about 100g of icing sugar and equal parts the juice of one blood orange and cranberry juice, until the icing sugar fully dissolves, and it turns into a flowing, reduced syrup. Fill the cavity of the cake with slices of blood orange, then puncture the cake with a piece of uncooked spaghetti, and drizzle all of the syrup over. Leave it to absorb all the syrup, then scrunch over yet more sugar (caster), and serve. And I did think about making a syrup simply by warming beautiful red grenadine and blood orange juice, this eliminating icing sugar and cranberry juice.
As I have said a few times before, there now lies a dingy crater in my heart which was once filled with an intense romantic relationship with cake making. I was in love with the tender crumb of cakes before I knew what love even was. Somehow, after I took a hiatus from baking, I couldn't manage to successfully get back into cake making. It's taken a little more originality in inspiration for my cakes, and 0 level of difficulty and idiot-proof preparation to start giving it another go. Everyone needs a little love again. Do they need the excessive sugar of this recipe? We'll see. Just buy blood oranges while you still can.
This thought occurred to me, not long ago, and way after 2 years when I first posted this. I love any sort of polenta cake, and these days it's almost selfish to not give a gluten free alternative. So, with that in mind replace the flour weight with half ground almonds and half fine polenta.
1)I know this is obnoxiously chef-y, but I find everything so much easier if you have already the ingredients laid out (at room temperature, or if like me the room temperature is scarcely different from a school assembly hall, the butter been warmed slightly in a microwave so it's soft) and have your bundt pan (if you don't have one then a loaf pan, or indeed any round cake pan, will be excellent too) well greased, easiest way to do this I think is an oil spray. The kind used for people on a diet. And we're making cake with it. Aha. Preheat the oven to 170 degrees, and zest and juice 3 blood oranges. Weigh out 200g plain flour, 1 1/2 tsp baking powder and 1/2 tsp salt, and set the dry ingredients aside.
2)In a large bowl, cream 200g of soft butter, 200g of caster sugar and the orange zest until light and creamy, then have a scrape down the sides, and prepare to add flour and eggs. You can fold the flour in, but this is a bit easier, especially when there's juice which dilutes and thus more risk of the batter curdling. Add 1 egg, a rough 1/4 of the dry ingredients, about 1/2 tsp orange flower water, and 1/4 the blood orange juice. Blend until it's all incorporated, then scrape down the sides and proceed with the remaining 3/4 of the ingredients (but no more orange flower water, unless a bleach-flavoured cake is your thang), 1/4 at a time.
3)When everything is thoroughly combined, and very light, pour the batter into the tin, and bake for about 40 minutes. Do not open the door whilst cooking, apart from after the first 2/3 cooking when you can start checking its colour. If the cake is not done (skewer comes out laden with batter) but the top looks it, be prepared to lower temperature so the whole cake cooks evenly.
4)Leave the cake to cool in the tin, whilst you prepare a syrup to drench the cake with. In a small saucepan, dissolve about 100g of icing sugar and equal parts the juice of one blood orange and cranberry juice, until the icing sugar fully dissolves, and it turns into a flowing, reduced syrup. Fill the cavity of the cake with slices of blood orange, then puncture the cake with a piece of uncooked spaghetti, and drizzle all of the syrup over. Leave it to absorb all the syrup, then scrunch over yet more sugar (caster), and serve. And I did think about making a syrup simply by warming beautiful red grenadine and blood orange juice, this eliminating icing sugar and cranberry juice.
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