Autumn fish stew with red mullet, squid, radicchio, borlotti beans and bottarga

Fish are as seasonal in our waters as the distinct harvesting seasons for vegetables, and the traditional shooting seasons for game. Temperature and weather conditions play a big part, and the variation in catches reflects this. Late spring and summer sees wild sea trout and salmon migrating back down their spawning rivers from sea, and it is the beginning of turbot season proper. Christmastime sees peak molluscs; juicy, heavy mussels and sweet clams. The autumn is bountiful, and almost everything is in great condition as the waters finally start to cool after months of heat. The most visual sign of this is the tide of beautiful red mullet that start appearing, scale perfect and ridged as darts. In the shops we sell two different sizes of these fine fish; the small ‘fritture’, perfect for frying whole as a wonderful evening snack with a glass of dry wine. But the larger ones are worth seeking out, for crispy-skinned fillets and the soft, part-oily flesh that yields that unique shellfish flavour. 

 
In the year and a half that I have been a fishmonger, this is the first time that I’ve managed to take advantage of this wonderful produce. My colleagues swoon as soon as they start appearing on the ice slabs, for many they are an outright favourite. Such special fish deserve a special dish, and this time around I made sure I was prepared.
 
A good fish stew recipe is worth its weight in gold. It can be quickly rustled up in order to create a special and crowd-pleasing meal when suddenly faced with many mouths. It is perfect when the chills start and the nights creep in, providing a deep satisfaction, and a radiator-like effect on the body. My version takes the last of the summer tomato harvest combined with soft borlotti beans and roasted radicchio leaves. I heard recently that we are losing our taste for bitter leaves and was saddened. They are an acquired taste for sure, but tempered with clever cooking and flavour pairings they are delightful.
 
A small packet of bottarga accompanied me back from Rome, and I’ve been grating little bits of it here and there whenever possible. I love it simply with braised greens, lemon and olive oil a la The River Café, but it also really makes clams, shellfish and in this case, red mullet really sing. It acts as a fantastic enhancer, boosting other ingredients whist imparting its own subtle and delicious flavour.
 
Serves 2
 
Ingredients:
 
1 red mullet, about 400g in weight. Filleted and pin-boned. 
1 medium squid, cleaned, scored and cut into strips
 
For the stew base:
 
The bones from the red mullet 
3 shallots, finely sliced 
2 garlic cloves, finely chopped 
1 fennel bulb, finely chopped 
1 tbsp sweet smoked paprika 
1 tsp fennel seeds 
1 tsp dried oregano 
1 star anise 
1 tsp dried chilli 
1 good pinch of saffron 
4-6 ripe tomatoes, chopped 
1 glass of dry white wine 
750ml good chicken stock 
400g tinned or fresh borlotti beans, drained and rinsed if using the former
 
For the roasted radicchio:
 
1 small radicchio, trimmed and quartered 

To finish:
 
A handful of basil leaves 
A good glug of extra virgin olive oil 
A generous grating of bottarga


First start off by making the stew. Heat a good glug of olive oil in a large, high-sided skillet or frying pan. When a medium temperature, add the mullet bones and fry until golden on all sides. Tip in the shallot, garlic and fennel along with a good pinch of seasoning, and continue to cook for 10-15 minutes, until the vegetables have softened. Stir in the dried chilli, fennel seeds, paprika, oregano, star anise and saffron and continue to fry for a further 5 minutes, until the flavours have been released. Add the tomatoes and combine well with a wooden spoon. Cook until soft and starting to dissolve and create a sauce, another 10 minutes or so. Raise the heat and pour in the wine, allowing it to boil and reduce by half. Finally pour in the chicken stock. Bring the broth to a boil, then simmer gently for about 45 minutes, until the liquid has reduced and thickened a little. Strain into a smaller saucepan, and discard the now spent flavourings. 

 
Bring the strained stew base back to a simmer and pour in the borlotti beans. Cook until the beans have softened and absorbed some of the flavour, about 10-15 minutes.
 
Preheat the oven to 200⁰C.
 
Arrange the radicchio quarters onto a baking tray and coat with olive oil, salt and pepper. Roast in the hot oven for 10 minutes, or until the edges start to turn golden brown. Remove from the oven and slice the leaves into small, rough pieces.
 
Pour a generous amount of oil into a large, non-stick frying pan and bring to a high heat. When really hot, add the squid and a good pinch of seasoning. Fry quickly for 1-2 minutes on each side, until golden and crispy. Transfer to a plate lined with kitchen paper to drain. Keep warm. 

 
Give the frying pan a quick wipe clean and replace the oil. Bring back to a medium-high heat. Season the mullet fillets well and place skin-side down in the pan. Fry for 3 minutes, and use a tablespoon to baste the flesh-sides with hot oil at the same time.
 
To serve, spoon a good amount of the stew and beans into shallow bowls. Scatter the radicchio and squid over the top, and pop a fillet of red mullet in the middle. Arrange basil leaves around the sides and drizzle over some good olive oil. Finish by grating over the bottarga and serve.

Allotment ribollita with borlotti beans, rosemary, rainbow chard, leeks, bread and olive oil

Every time I talk to my parents on the phone, invariably at some point the conversation turns to what they have eaten recently. This is normally met with a modest ‘oh just some odd bits of veg from the allotment’, but I know that that is a damn lie. They talk about their plot like some barren land with a few brown leaves poking out here and there, but the reality couldn’t be more different. They put so much work into it and I’m always so impressed whenever I see it. They took me up there at the end of last summer and I was gobsmacked. Disciplined rows of proud, vibrant vegetables stood in architecturally framed raised beds, all village fete standard and all crying out to be picked. I was like a child in a sweet shop. Commuters must have raised a few eyebrows at the muddy-kneed man laden with earthy bags and smug grin on the way home. So when they offered to return there right at the end of a recent visit I bit their arm off. 

We drove up at dusk, and the view standing on the hillside looking down at Brighton and the sea bathed in sunset reds and burnished golds will stay with me for a long time. But I couldn’t linger for long, there was digging to do and the light was fading fast. I couldn’t see much of what dad was doing under torchlight and only responded to hasty ‘quick Sam, put these in the bag’, and it wasn’t until I got back to my kitchen in London that I could marvel at what goodies lurked inside. Last summer it was all nasturtiums, new potatoes, broad beans and courgette flowers, but this time stunning rainbow chard, flowering rosemary, leeks and purple sprouting broccoli. Not a bad yield for the half a dozen trips my parents had made over the winter. My mind was racing as to what to make, and with the lingering late winter chill still in the air a soup it was to be. This would also be the best way to cram in as much of the newly-picked produce into one bowl as possible. 

When I was young, despite not having such a keen interest in what I was eating, I always remember that in the kitchens of my cooler friends were the same blue, yellow and green books. Although I didn’t identify or read The River Café cookbooks for years afterwards it feels like they’ve always been there, and they’re always my first port of call when looking for inspiration. I love the simplicity and focus on quality ingredients, which often provide the starting point even when attempting something much more complicated. Proper food that you want to eat, not just look at. Although my ingredients and flavourings are far from those of the authentic cavolo nero packed ribollita described within those dog-eared pages, the principal of showing off simple fresh greens is the same. 

Talking of beans, the borlotti beans used here also came from the folks; dad proudly presented me with a jar of the mottled beauties that he had dried and stored from last summer’s harvest. Although I have previously made this with standard tinned beans, it really makes a difference taking the time to prepare them yourself. At this point I added even more garlic, rosemary and bay and was left with about a litre and a half of lovely stock to form the base of the soup. It’s just such a shame that they lose all of their individual markings in the process. 

This recipe makes a lot of hearty, revitalising soup, but the good news is that the leftovers just get better and better. And it’s easy to tweak everything to just how you want it, with a squeeze of lemon, some more chilli or with some crispy prosciutto broken over the top.

Serves 6 generous portions.

Ingredients: 

Olive oil 
1 onion, finely chopped 
1 carrot, finely chopped 
3 medium leeks, finely chopped 
3 cloves of garlic, finely chopped 
1 tbsp fennel seeds 
2 small dried chillies, finely chopped 
2 large sprigs of rosemary, finely chopped 
4 slices of prosciutto, finely chopped 
2 tomatoes, skinned and finely chopped 
2 large handfuls of cooked borlotti beans, drained but retaining the cooking water 
2 large bunches of chard, stalks chopped and leaves sliced finely 
2 handfuls of stale bread, crusts removed and torn into small pieces 
1 small bunch of wild garlic leaves, torn 

To finish: 

Parmesan cheese, finely grated 
Flowers from the rosemary 
Good quality extra virgin olive oil


Heat a large saucepan to a medium-low temperature and add a splash of olive oil. Add the onion, carrot, leeks, garlic, prosciutto, rosemary, dried chilli and fennel along with some seasoning and cook slowly for about half an hour, until everything has softened. Tip in the chopped tomatoes and cook for another ten minutes. Stir in the chard stalks and half of the cannellini beans, topping up with the reserved cooking water until covered, about 750ml-1ltr. Bring to the boil and then reduce to a simmer for 20-30 minutes. 

Transfer the remaining cannellini beans to a food processor and blitz until very fine. Add to the saucepan with the torn bread and the chard leaves and stir will to combine. Pour in more of the bean liquid if needed and break up some of the bread with the spoon to achieve a thick yet pourable consistency. Cook for another couple of minutes until the chard leaves are tender and then finally add the wild garlic leaves at the last minute. Taste, and season if necessary.

To serve, spoon into shallow bowls and drizzle over a good amount of extra virgin olive oil. Sprinkle over parmesan and some rosemary flowers and a good crack of black pepper.

Mussels with ‘nduja broth, butter beans and tarragon

Here I will carry on from my last blog post with the actual meal that I intended to cook in the first place! Before I got sidetracked into buying the prawns, the main reason that I went to Borough Market at the weekend was to buy the ‘nduja to make the sauce for my mussel broth. You can buy the rest of the ingredients from most fishmongers and greengrocers, but I have travelled to loads of Italian delis around Stoke Newington and couldn’t find it anywhere. I always try and find my ingredients as locally as possible, and if I fail with that then I know that I can get pretty much anything from Borough, even though it is a bit of a trek from north London. From researching on Twitter, I knew that there were stalls that sold the soft, spicy salami from southern Italy, and luckily I managed to stumble upon one really quickly. The guys at the De Calabria stall were very friendly, and I was happy to have found what I had come for. 

In the past I have used sombrasada, which is a soft chorizo from Spain, and very similar to the ‘nduja in texture. However, the ‘nduja carries a much meatier and savoury flavour, with a much spicier kick than it’s Spanish equivalent, which I thought would work really well with the cider broth and the mussels. I’ve still got a big chunk of the stuff in the fridge, and am always so tempted to slap it on some crusty bread when I stumble back from work hungry. Aside from this broth, it will work really well in giving backbone and depth to soups and sauces, and I can’t wait to have it with some fresh pasta. As it’s strong and spicy, you only need a tiny bit to make an impact; a little definitely goes a long way.

I’m surprised that it’s taken me this long to write about mussels in this blog, as they are right up there with my favourite seafood. I started eating them on holidays with my parents cooked with white wine, cream and garlic and haven’t looked back since. Although I still love moules mariniere, or even better, moules frites, there are so many more ways to cook mussels. They handle big flavours really well, so using things like ‘nduja, cider and paprika is no problem. The key is in the preparation and cooking of the mussels. Always buy fresh live mussels from a good fishmonger in the months when they are in season. Make sure you de-beard them, and while you do this, discard any mussels that are broken, or that don’t close when given a sharp tap. They only need to be quickly steamed, otherwise they go very rubbery and won’t be nice! If you haven't already, I urge you to give them a go. They are also really sustainable and excellent value for money, which can only be a good thing.

To give my sauce even more flavour and a little sweetness, I used the leftover shells from the prawns that we had eaten as a starter. You could see if your fishmonger has any spare, but this is not totally essential, and the sauce will be lovely if you don’t have the shells. 

Serves 2 as a main, or 4 for a light lunch or starter.

Ingredients:

1kg live mussels, de-bearded and cleaned

3 shallots, finely chopped

1 red chilli, finely chopped

1 carrot, finely chopped

1 fennel, finely chopped

2 garlic cloves, finely sliced

1/2 tsp hot smoked paprika

1 tsp tomato puree

75g ‘nduja, skin removed and roughly chopped

1 small pinch saffron

1 bay leaf

1.5 litres good fish stock

250ml dry cider, I used Black Fox organic

1 splash brandy

Shellfish shells (optional)

To finish:

400g butter beans, pre-soaked or tinned and drained well

1 large handful small cherry tomatoes, halved

5 sprigs tarragon, leaves picked and roughly chopped

1 lemon, juice only

A few rocket leaves

To serve: 

Soda bread and butter

Heat up a large saucepan or skillet to a medium heat and add a little oil. When up to temperature, add the shallot, season and cook for a couple of minutes until soft. Add the fennel, carrot, garlic, chilli and paprika and cook for  5-10 minutes until the vegetables start to become tender. Stir in the ‘nduja, saffron and tomato puree and cook for another couple of minutes, so that the ‘nduja dissolves into the sauce and the puree has cooked out. If you are using the shellfish shells, you can add them at this point too and saute. Turn up the heat slightly and pour over the brandy and carefully flambe, burning away all of the alcohol. Add the cider and reduce by half, then top up with the fish stock and bay leaf. Bring to the boil before turning the heat back down to medium and seasoning well. Cook uncovered until the liquid has reduced by about two-thirds, stirring occasionally. This reduction process should take around 30-45 minutes. 

When the mixture has reduced, strain the liquid through a sieve into a bowl, pushing down on everything to make sure that every drop of liquid and flavour goes through. Discard the vegetables in the sieve and put the strained sauce into the cleaned saucepan. Heat the sauce back up and when simmering, add the drained butter beans and cherry tomatoes. 

Turn the heat up, bring the sauce back to the boil and add the prepared mussels. Cover the saucepan and give it a shake. Keep the pan covered and cook for 4-5 minutes, or until all of the mussels have opened. When the mussels are cooked, remove them from the pan and set aside. Stir through the lemon juice, tarragon and seasoning before tasting and adjusting. 

To plate up, spoon some of the sauce, beans and tomatoes into a bowl and then add some of the cooked mussels. Top with a little rocket, a drizzle of olive oil and serve with some crusty soda bread and butter.

Homemade burger

Following on from my last blog post where I reviewed the brilliant Honest Burgers in Soho, here is how I would make my own burgers at home. 

Although I love to go out to a diner or burger joint, I’m a firm believer that the best burgers are the ones that you make at home. You can tweak the ingredients to make them just how you like them, cook them perfectly for you and serve them with your favourite condiments. I’m not a massive fan of ketchup and sliced tomatoes in mine, and seem to spend half my time pulling or scraping various bits from burgers eaten out, even when I’ve asked for them to be left out. There is nothing worse than a disappointing burger, and making them at home takes all of this stress away. They are so quick and easy too, and if you’ve got the ingredients in the house then you can make them in the time that it would take you to get a takeaway.

As with everything this simple, the ingredients will do the talking so try and use the best quality you can. When buying mince, don’t buy really lean mince, as you still want some fat present which will give more flavour and moisture to the cooked burger. Unlike many other burger recipes, this one has no eggs or breadcrumbs to bind it together. I think that these aren’t all that necessary and often give the burgers quite a hard texture. These burgers are really soft, but they are quite delicate and you need to be careful when shaping and turning! To help this, make sure that the ingredients that go in the burger mixture are chopped really finely. 

I’ve recently read about using brioche and even doughnuts as burger buns, but to be honest I think that the best thing is a simple large soft white bun. Anything too crusty will make it difficult to eat (especially important if eaten in company!), and could cause the burger to fall apart. I think that the sweet contrast in using a brioche has scope though, and I look forward to experimenting with this in the future. 

Try with the beer battered gherkins below as a good alternative to chips.

Makes 2 large burgers

Ingredients:

300g steak mince, not too lean

1/2 a medium red onion, finely diced

1 red chilli, finely diced

4 tbsp cheddar, finely grated

3 tbsp parsley, finely chopped

1 tbsp english mustard

Salt and pepper

2 large soft white buns, or brioche if preferred

Your choice of additional ingredients to serve. I like my burger with crispy smoked bacon, stilton, finely sliced red onions, gherkins, rocket and mayo.

To make the burgers, gently loosen the mince with your fingers in a large bowl and add the onion, chilli, cheddar, parsley, mustard and a good amount of seasoning. Mix well until all of the ingredients are evenly distributed. 

Heat a frying pan on a medium heat. Make a small patty out of a tablespoon of the burger mix and fry for about a minute on each side before trying and tasting for seasoning. Adjust the burger mixture if necessary. 

Split the mixture into two. Taking one half in your hand, bind it together into a ball and knead it quickly between each of your hands. This will help the mixture stick together and make shaping much easier. Carefully shape into a large burger, pressing any cracks together until you have a smooth disc. Set aside and repeat with the other half. These can be kept in the fridge until needed if preparing in advance. 

Put a large frying pan on a medium-high heat. Lightly oil and season both sides of the burger and fry for 3-4 minutes each side for medium, a little less or more if you like it rare or well done. If using cheese, put it onto each burger with a minute or two left of cooking to allow it to melt. 

Prepare the other condiments and additional ingredients while the burgers are cooking. When the burgers are done, transfer the burgers into the buns with the toppings and serve. 

Beer battered gherkins with paprika mayo

Gherkins are a really marmite ingredient, some people like them and others can’t stand them; I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who is indifferent to them. If you do like them, then these light and crunchy beer-battered gherkins are a great accompaniment to the burgers, or just to have as a snack on their own. 

They’re really easy to make too. The only thing that you need to be careful with is the deep frying. Always use a big pan and fill it no more than half full. If you are making a lot, fry the gherkins in batches to stop the oil temperature dropping and from them all sticking together. 

Serves 2-4 as a snack or side dish.

Ingredients:

1 jar of large gherkins, quartered lengthways

For the batter:

100g plain flour

175ml good ale or beer

Salt and pepper

2ltrs vegetable oil for frying

For the mayonnaise:

4tbsp homemade or good quality shop bought mayonnaise

1/2 a garlic clove, very finely chopped

A sprinkle of smoked paprika

1 tbsp parsley, finely chopped

Salt and pepper

To make the batter, mix the flour and a good amount of seasoning together in a large bowl. Slowly pour in the ale whilst whisking the mixture well to remove any lumps. Add the ale until the batter is the thickness of double cream. 

Heat up the oil in a large saucepan to 170ºC. When hot, coat the gherkins in the batter and lower them into the oil individually to avoid them sticking together. Fry until light brown and crispy, about 3-4 minutes. Remove from the oil with a slopped spoon and drain on kitchen paper. Season and serve. 

For the mayo, spoon the mayo into a bowl and add the garlic, parsley and seasoning. Mix well, then sprinkle the paprika over the top.

Roasted pigeon with confit leg, Jerusalem artichoke puree, fondant potato and chanterelles

Talking about food with other food enthusiasts is always a real pleasure, and there is always something to be learned from finding out what they are cooking and eating. Last weekend I was back at Borough Market, this time accompanied by an old friend and very able cook who I hadn’t seen in a long time. It was brilliant to just walk round the various stalls looking eagerly at the masses of jaw dropping produce. We discussed how we would tackle the scallops the size of a fist, or rabbits still hanging in their skin, and my mind was buzzing with new ideas for the future.

The main reason for going back to the market was to pick up the ingredients for this recipe. I had been meaning to cook pigeon for ages, and somehow every time managed to make something else instead, but now the game season is back in flow it seemed like the perfect time. You can buy just about any ingredient you can think of at Borough, and in no time at all I had picked up a few fine pigeons. And at nine pounds for four birds, what a bargain they were. Although I was only cooking this recipe for two, I wanted the sauce to accompany the dish to be full of flavour and decided to use the carcass of one additional bird for an added boost. The remaining pigeon is sitting happily in my freezer until I fancy a quick pigeon salad or a game pie comes calling.

Borough is also one of the best places to buy decent mushrooms. Although I have excellent fruit and veg shops near to my home in north London, all anywhere seem to sell are the same old chestnut, button or portobello mushrooms, perhaps with a few shabby oysters or shitake thrown in. The main fruit and veg stall at Borough has a huge variety, and I had to stop myself from buying too many for other dishes that instantly popped into my head. I wanted some lovely chanterelles, and walked away happy with a bag full of the beautiful delicate golden yellow mushrooms. I had a day or so before I planned to cook this meal, and I just couldn’t wait to get cracking!

Pigeon is a bit of a marmite ingredient for many people. I think that it often conjures images of scabby London pigeons with gnarled feet pecking on rubbish, when game pigeons are the total opposite. They need to be tasted to be truly appreciated, with a strong iron flavour and wonderfully tender meat. They need to be cooked rare or slowly braised though, anything in between will be like chewing cardboard. Now that autumn is upon us, the flavour of pigeon combined with root veg, salty ham and peas is so comforting. 

This recipe is long and cooking it will take a little while but it really is worth it. The finished meal is great to look at and full of flavour. The confit legs and use of an additional carcass is optional, but will make the end result that little bit better if you have the time. The most stressful time when cooking this meal is at the end, when you have loads of pans cooking simultaneously. The key is to just remember that most things are being cooked gently, and will not be ruined if ignored for a few seconds. After a bit of practice it is easy. 

Ingredients:

Serves 2

2 pigeons, crowns separated, legs kept for confit and rest of carcass kept for the sauce

Optional: 1 additional pigeon carcass

For the sauce:

1 large shallot, finely chopped

2 garlic cloves, left whole but crushed slightly

10 sprigs of thyme

1 bay leaf

50ml brandy

500ml good chicken stock

1 knob of butter

4 tbsp frozen peas, defrosted

Salt and pepper

For the pigeon leg confit:

2 pigeon legs

800ml duck or goose fat, or enough to cover everything well

3 garlic cloves, unpeeled

5 sprigs thyme

For the Jerusalem artichoke puree:

500g jerusalem artichokes, peeled and chopped into 1in pieces

3 tbsp double cream

2 tbsp fresh thyme leaves, stalks discarded

Salt and pepper

For the fondant potatoes:

2 large king edward potatoes 

10 sprigs thyme

200ml chicken stock

1 knob of butter

For the chanterelles:

2 slices parma ham

200g chanterelle mushrooms, brushed clean

1 large garlic clove, finely chopped

1/2 a shallot, finely chopped

3 tbsp flat leaf parsley, finely chopped

1 large knob of butter

Salt and pepper

For the savoy cabbage:

3 large savoy cabbage leaves, finely shredded

1/2 a shallot, finely chopped

1 clove garlic, finely chopped

1 anchovy fillet, finely shopped

1 large knob of butter

50ml chicken stock

Salt and pepper

Firstly make the confit pigeon legs. Tie the legs with string to keep the flesh together while they cook. Melt the duck fat in a small saucepan with the thyme and garlic, then add the legs, topping up with more fat if they are not submerged. Heat up to 90ºC and keep at a constant temperature for 2 hours. Keep submerged in the fat and allow to cool. This process can be done a couple of days in advance.

To make the sauce to go with the dish, heat up a little oil in a large frying pan or skillet until hot. Sear the parts of the pigeon carcass that have been removed from the crown, along with the additional pigeon carcass if using, until they are a dark brown colour. Turn the heat down to a medium heat and add the shallot, garlic, thyme and bay leaf, and cook for another couple of minutes until well coloured. Pour in the brandy and set alight to burn away the alcohol. Once the flames have gone out, reduce slightly then pour in the hot chicken stock. Season, combine, and allow to reduce right down until only about 150ml of liquid is left. Strain and set aside to finish off while the pigeon is cooking. 

For the puree, put the pieces of jerusalem artichoke into a small saucepan and cover with salted water. Bring to the boil and cook until tender, about 10-15 minutes. When cooked, drain and tip into a food processor with the cream, thyme and seasoning. Blitz until smooth before tasting and adjusting. Put back into the saucepan and cover with cling film until needed.

To make the parma ham baskets, preheat the oven to 200ºC. Line the bottom of two slots of a muffin tray with discs of greaseproof paper. Arrange the parma ham around the bottom and sides of the tray to form a cup shape. Put another disc of greaseproof paper at the bottom of the ham cup and stack another muffin tray on top of the one with the ham. This will make the cups keep their shape. Put in the hot oven for 8 minutes, before removing the top muffin tray and top piece of greaseproof paper. Put the uncovered tray back in the oven for another 2-3 minutes, or until the ham is crisp. Allow to cool in the trays and set aside. 

Turn the oven down to 180ºC

For the fondant potatoes, peel the potatoes and cut the edges so that you are left with a thick cross-section. Using a pastry cutter, push through the potatoes to create 2 cylinders. Put a non-stick frying pan onto a high heat and add 2 tbsp of the fat from the confit saucepan. When hot, add a knob of butter and the thyme, and fry the potatoes on each flat side until they are nicely browned and crispy. Place the potatoes into a small, high sided oven dish and add the cooking liquid and thyme. Season well. Top up with hot stock until half way up the potatoes. Put into the oven for 25 minutes, or until a knife is easily inserted into the side. Try and time the cooking of the potatoes to go with the cooking of the pigeon (including the resting time).

To cook the pigeon, heat a frying pan to a high heat with a little olive oil. When hot, sear the pigeon crowns for about a minute on each breast or until they are browned. Transfer to an oven dish, add the confit legs and put into the oven for 6 minutes. Remove from the oven and allow to rest for another five minutes before carving the breasts. 

While the pigeon is cooking, cook the savoy cabbage. Melt the butter in a frying pan on a medium heat and add the shallot, garlic and anchovy. Cook for about 2 minutes until softened, then add the savoy cabbage and the chicken stock. Stir to combine and cook for another 2 minutes, or until al dente. Taste and season.

At the same time, cook the mushrooms. Add the butter to the frying pan used to sear the pigeon and melt on a medium heat. Add the garlic and shallot and cook for a minute or so to to soften. Add the mushrooms and continue to cook until buttery and tender, another couple of minutes. Taste and season. 

Also at the same time, slowly heat up the artichoke puree and finish the pigeon sauce. Gently heat up the sauce in a small saucepan, and when warm add the butter and stir well, until melted and combined. Taste, season and add more butter if needed. Add the peas two minutes before serving and stir occasionally.

A couple of minutes before serving, put the muffin tray with the parma ham cups back into the oven to heat back up. Be careful not to leave them in there for too long. 

To plate up, place the fondant potato on the plate, and put the confit leg on top. Place the ham cup next to the potato, and fill with the chanterelles. Spoon a good amount of the puree onto the plate next to them, and top with some of the savoy cabbage. Arrange the pigeon breasts on top of this. Spoon a little sauce carefully onto the pigeon/puree/cabbage, and then drizzle around the plate. Serve with a nice glass of red wine.