Dover sole with summer girolles, sage and butter

As it was my mum’s birthday, I really wanted to spoil her with this lunch. So after the squid was devoured, I chucked the grill on and set about on a speedy main course. There were only the three of us eating, so the evening before I had excitedly rushed home with a trio of lovely Cornish Dover sole. Having only cooked and eaten these prized fish on less than a handful of occasions, I was determined to cook them carefully and treat them simply. A bag of mushrooms, a slab of butter and few bits picked from the allotment were all that was needed. 

 
My mistake was in bringing the fish down to Brighton unprepared. I thought that my parents would want to be hands on and take interest in learning how to skin the fish. They were, although I wasn’t quite ready for the total mess that it would cause. At work, any mess is barely noticeable as it gets quickly slooshed away with a bucket of water. There was no such solution this time as scales sprayed across the kitchen, attaching themselves to the floorboards, fridge, clothing and hair. I felt so bad!

But once the fish was prepared and that total lead balloon had worn off a little, the rest of the dish came together in a flash. Simply grilled fish is always a pleasure to eat, especially when it emerges golden brown and sizzling from the oven and is swiftly doused in hot melted butter. Mushrooms and sage might seem a strange combination, but they provided a lovely contrast to the rich and meaty flesh. 

 
We were all stuffed to bursting after two plates of food, but of course there was cake. And cream. And clotted cream. And ice cream. Oh heavens! Dad had followed a particularly lovely Nigel Slater recipe for lemon cake, all sticky and dense, and with tangy candied sliced burnished on top. After half an hour of eating grace to try and find some extra stomach space, it was happily forked up to complete a memorable afternoon celebration.

Serves 4

Ingredients:

4 Dover sole, each about 400g in weight, skinned and trimmed 
2 large handfuls of girolle mushrooms, brushed clean 
1 clove of garlic, crushed 
A few sprigs of sage, leaves picked 
4 tbsp of butter 
1 lemon

 
Heat the grill to high. Line a large oven tray with greaseproof paper and rub with 1 tsp of olive oil and a good pinch of seasoning. Place the Dover sole on top and rub with a little more oil and seasoning. Slide under the hot grill for 8 minutes. 

 
Slice or tear the mushrooms into bite-size pieces if necessary.

Bring a large frying pan to a medium heat. Add the butter and melt, then toss in the mushrooms, crushed garlic clove and a pinch of seasoning. Fry for 4-5 minutes, tossing frequently, until caramelised on all sides. Add the sage leaves about halfway through, and allow them to slightly crisp in the hot butter.  

Carefully transfer the cooked fish to each plate. Squeeze half of the lemon juice into the butter and mushrooms and stir to combine, then spoon generously over the fish. Serve with the remaining lemon on the side.

Squid with baby courgettes, samphire and marjoram

I spent the weekend just passed on a whistle-stop visit to Brighton to celebrate my mum’s 68th birthday. And as is now tradition, I arrived clutching a bag of provisions to make lunch on the Sunday. Wherever they have lived, the kitchen has always been the central point of the house, and it was a total pleasure preparing food and catching up as they sat around the table with a glass of wine. As usual, I wanted to keep things simple and quick, just a few seasonal and tested ingredients together on a plate. 

 
In the morning mum and I had driven to their lovely allotment on the hills overlooking the city, shrouded in the morning mist and spitting rain. There we collected beautiful courgette flowers, herbs, salad leaves and bulbs of garlic. They are always so humble about it, but I know how hard they work planning, digging, planting and watering, and I’m always blown away by the produce that flourishes in the neat beds and winds around geometric canes. It was exciting to collect food knowing that it would be on the plate within a few small hours.
 
First course out of my bag was a paper-wrapped package bulging with squid. Dad gasped. The man loves his squid, and some of my fondest childhood memories involve visits to fishmongers with him. Without fail, dad would always be drawn to squid, and we would rush home to fry them in a thin, crispy batter. On this occasion they were seared quick and fast, until charring at the edges, before being drenched in lemon juice. 

 
I can’t get enough of samphire at the moment, so a few handfuls were also thrown into the mix. Combined with the incredibly tender young courgettes and a tangy dressing, they sat perfectly alongside the squid. This whole dish took about 15 minutes to casually put together, perfect for maximising time sat down eating together.
 
Serves 4
 
Ingredients:
 
4 medium squid, cleaned 
4 small handfuls of samphire 
4-6 baby courgettes, with flowers if possible 
2 sprigs of marjoram 
1 lemon 
1 clove of garlic 
1 good pinch of dried chilli flakes 
Extra virgin olive oil


Fill a saucepan with water, and bring to the boil. Fill a large bowl with cold water and add a good handful of ice cubes. When the water in the pan is hot, tip in the samphire and blanche for 20 seconds. Drain and transfer straight into the iced water to cool quickly. When cold, drain and shake dry, then add to a large bowl.
 
Tear up the courgette flowers (discarding the stamen). Slice the courgettes into long, thin batons. Add both to the samphire, along with the chilli flakes, the lemon zest and half of the juice, the marjoram leaves and the finely grated garlic. Pour in 2-3 tbsp of olive oil and a good pinch of seasoning and toss to combine. 

 
Using a sharp knife, open up the cleaned squid bodies to create a flat sheet. Carefully score one side in a crisscross, and repeat with the wings. Slice the tentacles into a few pieces.
 
Bring a large, heavy frying pan to a high heat and add 2 tbsp of olive oil. When smoking hot, add the squid and a pinch of seasoning. Cook the squid, in batches if necessary, for one minute on each side, or until golden brown and caramelised.
 
To serve, layer the squid and the samphire and courgette salad onto each plate. Finish with an extra squeeze of lemon juice and a crack of black pepper.

Charred skirt steak with allotment beets, mustard mayonnaise and tarragon and bone marrow dressing

One of my main challenges when cooking this summer has been to turn ingredients associated with warming, stodgy winter dishes into something a little lighter. When planning my recipes for these posts I simply tend to avoid such produce, but a few times recently I’ve been handed ingredients before I’ve had the chance to imagine their outcome. So far red wine, perfect for that bourguignon, was turned into a punchy dressing for griddled octopus. Potatoes mashed and enveloped with dainty, translucent pasta. In this case, another allotment delivery from the parents comprised of dinky, golf ball-sized beetroot and sprawling runner beans. While the beans got roasted and provided the perfect foil for homemade taramasalata, a week later I was still thinking about what to do with that damn beetroot, that was frankly taking up precious space in my tiny kitchen. 

Don’t get me wrong, beetroot is never a burden; I have grown to love this trusty root. It somehow has a bad image, and is often thought of merely just that thing piled up in plastic casing in the salad aisle. People rush past terrified in the knowledge that that pink will never leave their hands, chopping board and that freshly-pressed white shirt. While this is true, it is so worth endearing with. A friend once cooked an intense borscht, vibrant red with wonderful melty clumps of feta floating about. One of those ‘why haven’t I thought of that’ moments. Grated raw and mixed with horseradish and crème fraiche provides the perfect bed for a freshly smoked mackerel. And don’t get me started on that gratin. But what to do with it here was another thing. 

Then, as most ideas often arrive, the answer came in a most random flash. My boss arrived at the shop one day, and as always the previous evenings meal was quickly brought up. Skirt steak, the best piece of meat he had eaten in an age. That was all I needed. I knew all about this virtuous cut, but it is one that had avoided my thoughts for many a while. A quick trip across the road to those trusty fellows in the Ginger Pig saw me sorted, and for the rest of that day I had visions of a plate laden with streaks of red steak, surrounded by orange and purple beetroot, mayonnaise and tarragon. Funny how quickly it all comes together. 

It didn’t turn out quite as artistic as first imagined but boy was it good. The bone marrow, tarragon and cucumber dressing providing more beefiness, but also coolness to counter the mustard heat and pickled beets. It was also another light plate, perfect for a lunch on the balcony. As the evenings slowly start to draw in, these moments need to be savoured before stews and dumplings come a-knocking once more. 

Serves 2 

Ingredients: 

For the steak: 

1 large skirt steak 
Salt and pepper 
Oil 

For the mustard mayonnaise: 

1 clove of garlic, grated 
1 tbsp white wine vinegar 
2 egg yolks 
250ml rapeseed oil 
2-3 tbsp (or to taste) English mustard 

For the roasted beetroot: 

3 small beetroot, washed 
1 garlic clove 
5 thyme sprigs 
1 tsp butter 

For the pickled beetroot: 

3 small beetroot, washed 150ml white wine vinegar 
1 shallot, finely sliced 
The stalks from the tarragon 
1 tbsp caster sugar 
5 peppercorns 
1 bay leaf 

For the tarragon and bone marrow dressing: 

1 bunch tarragon, leaves picked and stalks reserved for the pickle 
1 baby cucumber, seeds removed and cut into fine dice 
1 lemon, juice only 
4 tbsp extra virgin olive oil 
1 large split of bone marrow 

For the crispy parsley: 

10 nice parsley leaves 
Vegetable oil 


To make the tarragon and bone marrow dressing, bring a small saucepan of salted water to the boil and pour cold water in a large bowl on the side. When hot, blanch the tarragon leaves for 20 seconds before draining and transfer straight into the cold water to cool. Squeeze out the excess moisture and put into a small food processor. Add the extra virgin olive oil and blitz until the leaves are very finely chopped. Pour into a bowl, cover and refrigerate for a good few hours, preferably overnight. When infused strain through muslin, discarding the sediment and keeping the vibrant oil. 

Pre-heat the oven to 180⁰C. 

Rub the cut side of the bone marrow with a little oil and season well. Roast for 8-10 minutes until the marrow comes away from the bone but hasn’t melted away. Allow to cool slightly then scoop out in long pieces and cut into small dice. Transfer to a bowl with the cucumber and lemon juice, then pour in the tarragon oil. Mix to combine, then taste and adjust the seasoning. Set aside. 

While the tarragon oil is infusing, roast the beetroot. 

Pre-heat the oven to 200⁰C. 

Arrange the beetroot for both pickling and roasting on a baking tray with the garlic and thyme. Drizzle with a little olive oil, season well then cover with foil and bake for about an hour, or until tender. Allow to cool slightly, then peel and quarter. Set the beetroot for roasting aside for later, and tip the pickling beetroot into a jar. 

Pour the pickling vinegar into a small saucepan and add the black peppercorns, shallot, bay leaf, sugar and tarragon stalks. Bring to the boil, then pour onto the beetroot in the jar. Screw the lid on tightly and gently shake to combine. Set aside to cool. 

Next make the mustard mayonnaise. Put the garlic, egg yolks, vinegar, seasoning and 1 tbsp of the mustard into a food processor and blitz for 30 seconds to combine. With the motor still running, drizzle the rapeseed oil in really slowly, starting with just a few drips and gradually increasing the speed as the oil is emulsified. When all of the oil is incorporated the mayonnaise should be thick, so let down with a bit of water if necessary. Mix in more mustard to taste, you want it to be quite punchy. 

Heat 4 tbsp of vegetable oil in a small saucepan to a high temperature. Fry the parsley leaves quickly until crisp, then remove to drain on some kitchen paper. 

Take the skirt steak out of the fridge at least 30 minutes before cooking to allow it to come to room temperature. 

Heat a heavy pan or skillet to a high temperature. Rub the steak with oil and season really well. When the pan is smoking hot, fry for 1 ½ -2 minutes on each side for rare, then transfer to a board to rest for 10 minutes. 

While the steak is resting, gently heat the butter for the beets in a small frying pan. Add the beetroot quarters and warm through. 

To serve, arrange slices of the rare steak around the middle of each plate. Dot the mayonnaise around the meat and spoon over some of the dressing. Place on some slices of roasted and pickled beetroot and finish with some of the crispy parsley leaves.

Homemade dry-cured and smoked bacon with roasted carrots, garden courgette and cucumber and mint and parmesan sauce

Another week, another curing project. In a totally spontaneous manner I have managed to fill my summer with a number of lengthy and not entirely necessary preservation projects. But although I’ve had to put up with many estranged “are you crazy” type looks from the friends, family and total strangers whose ears I’ve bent detailing my doings, I have to say that they have all absolutely been worth it. It is true, you can buy good, exceptional even, sardines, and in this case bacon, from some fabulous independent suppliers. They will definitely save you time and might even in some cases be cheaper, but there is definitely something for the satisfaction felt in sitting down and eating something that has been days or weeks in the making. I have also discovered that a big lump of bacon as a gift inspires a great deal of happiness.

In this case, I was inspired by reading old Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall books where he explores old-fashioned techniques such as curing, smoking and preserving, and it occurred to me just how simple a lot of it is. I used to think that DIY bacon was something that was unreachable to small-flat city dwellers, but I was instantly taken with the idea, and I quick trip to my local Ginger Pig saw me committed with a large hunk of pork belly. Miraculously the whole process was surprisingly simple, and even without a proper smoker I managed to achieve a similar result using a BBQ which had a lid to catch the smoke. I have to say, the bacon that came from this labour of love tasted pretty damn good, and happily I have still got a big old piece in the fridge to whittle away every so often. 

Bacon is normally the bridesmaid. There to discretely add a depth of flavour or add a salty contrast to the primary ingredient. After getting this far, I really wanted it to be the star of the show in this dish. I’ve cut thick, proper slices and fried them until crispy, and only paired them with subtle vegetables and herbs to create something fresh and light yet packed with flavour. This year I’ve been growing courgettes, cucumbers and mint on my balcony, and it’s been lovely to walk out on a summer evening and pick a few things to go with dinner. 

As I said, you can buy fantastic bacon if the process puts you off. If that’s the case, this dinner becomes a very quick affair indeed. But I’ve caught the bug now, and am on the hunt for more ingredients to chuck in the smoker… 

Serves 2, plus a good bit of extra bacon 

Ingredients: 

For the bacon: 

2.5kg pork belly, ribs removed for eating on another occasion 
1kg table salt 
200g brown sugar 
1 lemon, zest only 
10 sprigs of thyme 
4 tbsp black treacle 
Juniper chips for smoking for 24 hours 

For the roasted carrots: 

6 small heritage carrots, trimmed, washed and scrubbed if necessary 
3 sprigs thyme, leaves picked 
1 garlic clove, crushed into a few pieces 
¼ lemon, juice only 

For the courgettes and cucumber: 

2 baby courgettes, flowers reserved 
2 baby cucumbers, flowers reserved 
1 lemon, juice and zest 
3 sprigs mint, leaves picked and roughly torn 
Splash of cider vinegar 

For the mint and parmesan sauce: 

½ bunch of mint, leaves picked 
5 sprigs fresh oregano, leaves picked 
1 clove of garlic, grated 
1 lemon, zest and juice 
3 tbsp grated parmesan 
3 tbsp extra virgin olive oil 

To finish: 

The flowers from the baby courgettes, stamens removed and leaves roughly torn 
The flowers from the baby cucumbers 
Red-veined sorrel leaves 
Fennel herb sprigs 


Start by curing the bacon. Mix the salt, sugar, treacle, thyme and lemon zest together in a bowl. Pour a quarter of the mixture into the bottom of a large, deep dish, big enough to accommodate the pork belly. Place the pork belly on top, then evenly distribute more of the curing mixture over the top and sides, rubbing the meat in the process. Keep about a quarter of the cure. Cover the dish with cling film and refrigerate for 5 days. After a couple of days moisture will have drained out of the meat. Drain this away and pack the remaining cure around the pork. After 5 days, rinse the meat clean and pat dry. It should have firmed in texture and darkened. Clean the dish and place the meat back in it, then refrigerate, uncovered, in the fridge for another 24 hours to dry out. 

Create a long, heaped line of the fine juniper chips on the bottom of the smoker or barbeque and light one end until caught and smoking constantly. Place the pork on a rack above, then cover with a lid. Slightly open any ventilation ducts and leave to cold smoke for 24 hours. Check every 3-4 hours, topping up and relighting the chips as and when needed. When smoked the bacon will have taken on a golden colour and have a lovely smokey aroma. Wrap with cling film and refrigerate until needed.

To prepare the courgettes, use a mandolin to slice into thin cross-sections. Cut the baby cucumbers into long quarters. Put both into a bowl and add the lemon zest and juice, vinegar and mint leaves along with a good pinch of seasoning. Mix to combine then cover and set aside. 

For the mint and parmesan sauce, put all ingredients into a food processor and blend until everything is finely chopped and combined, adding a little more oil if needed to loosen. Taste and adjust the seasoning and/or acidity if needed. 

Pre-heat the oven to 180⁰C. 

Put the carrots on a baking tray and scatter over the thyme leaves, garlic clove and seasoning, then drizzle with olive oil. Roast in the oven for about 20 minutes, or until tender. When cooked, squeeze over the lemon juice. 

Pour a little olive oil into a frying pan and set on a medium-high heat. Cut two thick 2cm slices from the bacon joint and fry for about 5 minutes on each side, until well browned and crisp on the outside and cooked through. When ready, remove the bacon from the pan and use a little of the juices to dress the courgettes and cucumber. 

To serve, transfer one piece of bacon onto each plate. Place some of the courgette and cucumber slices and roasted carrots around it. Scatter over some of the vegetable flowers, fennel sprigs and sorrel leaves and finish by dotting some of the mint sauce around the plate.

New potato and thyme pansotti with smoked ham hock, broad beans and potato broth

I often struggle to think up new recipes to cook for this blog. I guess a kind of cooking block. I’ll have certain ingredients that I want to use in mind, but the finished dish will shift and change many times until I’m ready to get cooking. However frustrating it is at the time, this constant editing and reworking definitely results in better dishes. But I never know when the eureka moment will come, I could be walking to work or dozing off to sleep when that final piece slots into place and I’m truly satisfied. 

The flip side, are the meals that I make spontaneously, almost accidently making something and then thinking ‘hang on, this is actually quite good; I’ll take a quick photo and stick it on the blog’. This often occurs after a trip to see my parents and a visit to their allotment, when I drive home with a glut of seasonal vegetables. And that’s exactly what happened here. Dad scraped a fork along a random bit of earth and these amazing new potatoes appeared. It was all really impressive. A few plump broad bean pods and some sprigs hacked from their rosemary ‘tree’ joined them in my goody bag that sat next to me smelling amazing in the car on the way home. As usual, I was in a quandary with what to do. The logical thing would have been simply boiled potatoes with the fresh herbs and beans and lashings of butter. That probably would have done everything justice, but I wanted to do something more.

I’ve wanted to make filled pasta with mashed potato as a filling ever since a chef-friend told me about it a few years ago. The idea of carb filled with carb was a funny one, but the more I thought about it the more it seemed to work. I love thinly-sliced potatoes on top of bianco style pizzas, and the same flavour combinations work in this recipe. The key is to make the potato filling as light as possible and full of flavour. This, combined with the ham, herbs and beans makes for a comforting a tasty dinner. Adding the potato skins to the broth was a bit of an experiment after hearing about a potato infused soup recently and I was surprised that it really worked, giving a lovely mellow savoury flavour.    

I learned recently that pansotti means something like ‘greedy bellies’ in Italian, which makes me love it even more.

Serves 4

Ingredients:

For the pasta:

300g ‘00’ grade flour

3 medium eggs
1 tbsp olive oil
Salt

For the filling:

2 handfuls of new potatoes, washed

2 tbsp parmesan, finely grated
1 garlic clove, finely grated
3 sprigs mint, leaves picked and finely chopped
3 sprigs thyme, leaves picked and finely chopped
2 tbsp extra virgin olive oil

For the broth:

1 small cooked smoked ham hock, meat shredded into large chunks and bone reserved

500ml good chicken stock
The finely chopped rind from the parmesan (optional)
2 shallots, finely sliced
1 garlic clove, finely sliced
5 sprigs thyme
2 sprigs rosemary
Shells and pods from the broad beans
1 lemon, juice only

To finish:

2 handfuls broad beans, podded and shelled

2 tbsp parmesan, finely grated
2 spring onions, finely sliced
2 thyme sprigs, leaves picked

Preheat the oven to 180⁰C.

Put the new potatoes in a baking tray and coat with a little olive oil and salt and pepper. Add the bone from the ham hock and roast in the oven for about 45 minutes, or until cooked and soft in the middles. Remove the bone and set aside until later. Halve the potatoes whilst they are still warm and pass through a sieve into a bowl. Keep the skins. Add the garlic, parmesan, mint, thyme and olive oil along with a good amount of salt and pepper and combine well. Taste and adjust if necessary then allow to cool.

While the potatoes are cooking make the pasta dough. Put the flour, eggs, oil and a generous pinch of salt into a bowl and mix well until combined. Tip out onto a lightly-floured surface and knead well for at least 5 minutes, or until the dough is smooth and elastic in texture. Wrap with cling film and put in the fridge to rest for at least half an hour.

When the pasta dough is rested and the filling cooled start to make the pansotti. Roll the dough through your pasta machine about ten times on the widest setting, then pass down through each gradient until the thinnest (number 6 on an Imperia machine). Cut the pasta sheet into 12 4-by-4 inch squares. Spoon a tablespoon of the potato filling into the middle of each square and brush a little water onto one diagonal side. Carefully fold each square to form a triangular shape, pushing out as much air as possible in the sealing process. Trim away any excess pasta from the edges and to neaten up.  Place the finished pansotti onto a lightly floured piece of greaseproof paper, loosely wrap with cling film and refrigerate until needed.

For the broth, add a little oil to a saucepan and set on a medium heat. Cook the shallots, garlic thyme and rosemary for about 8-10 minutes until soft. Pour in the chicken stock along with the ham bone, parmesan rind and broad bean pods. Bring to the boil and then turn down to a gentle simmer for about 20 minutes. Add the potato skins and cook for another 5 minutes, then strain through a sieve into another pan. 

Fill a large saucepan up with well-salted water and bring to the boil.

Reheat the broth to a simmer.

When the pasta water boils, tip in the pansotti and cook for 3 minutes. When cooked, use a slotted spoon to remove from the water and put three in each bowl.

While the pasta is cooking, add the ham pieces and broad beans to the strained broth and heat through for a few minutes. Squeeze in the lemon juice and taste for seasoning.

To serve, spoon the broth over the pansotti in each bowl including a good amount of ham and beans. Finish by scattering over the spring onion, thyme leaves and parmesan.