“There a pig’s head in our kitchen?!” she said down the phone, in a way that even without seeing her came with raised eyebrows and scepticism. “Are you sure that you don’t just want to go to the pub instead?” and “please can it not be staring out of the fridge when I get home” (this was not a question) followed. I couldn’t help but grin wryly. There was a huge temptation to divulge that I was in the process of ridding her supper of impressive facial hair and ear wax. There was a vague temptation to decorate my clothing with the ears, tongue and teeth for when she walked through the door. This was quickly discarded, but I revelled in the challenge of making her a lunch that she had already squeamishly written off. This was going to be fun.
I love a good project, and this one had been long in the making. For months I looked at trendy menus that contained pig’s head this way and that, and it just always remained one of those things that I would get around to doing at some point. I had never tackled anything of the sort; apart from eating the cheeks and spying ears on the odd bar menu I had no idea what else was there. This seemed the best way to find out, and before I knew it I was sitting on the bus home next to a large bag, hoping dearly that a child didn’t peek inside.
It was surprisingly easy to tackle once home, and before long most of the meat was in manageable portions. Although I could have got the butcher to do most of this, and he probably would have made the whole process look so much neater, I felt rewarded in learning a small skill.
I only needed the ears and the small, dark nuggets of cheek meat (plus a couple of extra) for this recipe, so against my dear lady’s wishes a few largish bits of pig ended up finding their way into the fridge. But they were certainly not wasted, and in the next couple of blog posts I’ll be writing about the recipes that followed. For such a cheap, unglamorous cut of meat it really went far. I’ll certainly be getting another before too long, to roast whole until crisp or make stunning rillettes out of if nothing else.
In terms of flavours used in this recipe, I’ve stayed fairly safe and traditional. Pork loves sweetness, and this comes through in the beetroot and the leeks. For me this needs to be balanced though, and I often avoid pork dishes when eating out as it tends to come with a sugar overload. The addition of earthy black pudding and savoury sauce achieve this equilibrium, and the tarragon gives an additional fresh tanginess that rounds everything off.
Serves 2
Ingredients:
For the braised cheeks:
4 pork cheeks, sinew removed
2 carrots, roughly chopped
1 leek, roughly chopped
1 onion, roughly chopped
5 garlic cloves, crushed
10 sprigs of thyme
2 bay leaves
2 star anise
30g butter
500ml good quality dry cider
1.5ltrs good chicken stock
Olive oil
Salt and pepper
For the crispy ears:
1 pig’s ear, any hair and wax removed
Oil for frying, approx. 1ltr
Salt
For the burnt leeks:
6 baby leeks
Olive oil
½ lemon, juice only
Salt and pepper
For the black pudding:
2 slices of black pudding, cut into 1cm cubes
Olive oil
For the beetroot puree:
2 beetroots
8 sprigs of thyme
2 garlic cloves
Olive oil
Salt and pepper
20g butter
Splash of hot water
For the tarragon mayonnaise:
250ml rapeseed oil
1 large bunch of tarragon, leaves picked
1 egg yolk
½ a garlic clove, finely chopped
Splash of white wine vinegar
½ lemon, juice only
Salt and pepper
For the sauce:
Approx. 200g of trimmings from the pig’s head, excess fat removed
1 shallot, finely chopped
¼ leek, finely chopped
2 garlic cloves, finely sliced
5 sprigs of thyme
1 star anise
1 tsp fennel seeds
1 tsp sugar
2 bay leaves
150ml good dry sherry
500ml of the braising stock
20g butter
Salt and pepper
First braise the cheeks and ear. Heat a large stockpot with a little oil to a high temperature. Season the cheeks and brown very well on all sides, then remove to a plate. Add the onion, leek, carrot, garlic, herbs, spices and seasoning to the pan and sauté for a couple of minutes. Pour in the cider and bring to the boil, then add the cheeks and ear and cover with the stock. Return to the boil and then reduce to a low simmer, cover and cook for 3 hours. Once the meat is tender and cooked, remove from the heat and allow to cool. Carefully remove the cheeks and ear from the liquid to a plate and set aside or refrigerate until needed. Strain the stock, discard the vegetables and reserve the liquid to make the sauce.
Preheat the oven to 200⁰C (fan).
Make the beetroot puree by putting the beetroot, garlic, half the thyme, seasoning and a little olive oil into a small oven dish. Tightly cover with foil and bake in the preheated oven for 1 – 1 ½ hours, or until very tender. When cooked, remove from the oven and carefully peel the beets and garlic. Transfer to a small food processor along with the butter, the rest of the fresh thyme leaves, seasoning and a small splash of water. Blitz very well until you get a fine puree texture. Taste and adjust the seasoning, then pass through a sieve. Set aside for reheating later.
While the beetroot is cooking make the tarragon mayonnaise. Pour the rapeseed oil into a food processor with the tarragon leaves and blitz well until the oil is a vibrant green colour. Pour into a jug and clean the processor bowl. Put the egg yolk, salt, garlic and vinegar into the clean mixer and blend well. With the blade still running pour in the tarragon oil very slowly, until the mixture thickens and emulsifies. When all the oil has been mixed add the lemon juice and taste for seasoning. Let the mayonnaise down with a little water if too thick. Transfer to a sauce bottle and refrigerate until needed.
For the sauce, heat a large skillet or saucepan to high and add a little oil. Brown the trimmings well on all sides before adding the leek, shallot, garlic, fennel seeds and herbs and frying until coloured. Carefully add the sherry and burn off the alcohol and then top up with the stock. Reduce right down until left with a thick sauce, about 15-20 minutes. Strain into a small saucepan.
Heat the frying oil for the ears in a saucepan to 180⁰C. Dry the ear with kitchen roll and slice into thin strips. When the oil is hot carefully lower in the strips and cook for a minute or two until crispy and golden brown. Remove with a slotted spoon and drain. Sprinkle with salt and set aside.
Fill a saucepan with salted water and bring to the boil. When hot blanch the baby leeks for a minute, then transfer to a large bowl of cold water. When cool, remove and pat dry. Put aside for grilling later.
Heat the oven to 180⁰C.
When the oven is hot, arrange the black pudding onto a baking tray and drizzle over a little olive oil. Bake in the oven for 4-5 minutes.
While the black pudding is cooking finish off the other elements of the dish:
Heat a frying pan to a medium-high temperature and add a little olive oil. When hot add the braised cheeks and cook for 2 minutes on each side until browned. Halfway through cooking add the butter and a good tablespoon of the reduced sauce and baste well.
Heat a heavy griddle pan to a high temperature. Toss the blanched leeks in a little olive oil. When the griddle is hot sear the leeks for a couple of minutes until the outsides start to blacken. Remove to a plate, season well and squeeze over the lemon juice.
Reheat the sauce and stir in the butter thoroughly just before serving.
Gently reheat the beetroot puree.
To plate up, arrange two pig cheeks onto each plate and three baby leeks around and on top. Spoon a quenelle of the beetroot puree to one side and squeeze some of the mayonnaise around the plate. Scatter on some of the black pudding and crispy ear. Finally spoon over a little of the thick sauce.
Over Christmas and New Year I spent some time in Scotland with Katie’s family. They live in beautiful rolling farmland in Perthshire, where you can spend days living on nothing but endless tea and pound cake sat by a roaring fire. Going on walks you can hear yourself think, and nights are lit by blinding stars. Her family are the closest imaginable, and as cousins instantly inseparable after months or years apart. A very lucky thing.
During my stay an ambition was achieved. A shoot was organised on their land and I was asked to be involved. Katie was terrified. These things are bound with tweed-wrapped tradition, where the men and hounds leave at dawn to bloody the land while the wives whip up the perfect meringues and pies, and decant the whisky for their return. The thought of unleashing her naïve city-dwelling boy onto all of this without her protection caused a chill. But she shouldn’t have been worried. In a forest of plus-fours and tartan socks I stuck out with my old anorak and skinny jeans but they were all very kind, and a storming day was had. Although my role as one of the beaters was far from the business end of the shoot, I was thrilled to be part of it and I left with an unexpected case of gun envy. I must go shoot some clays soon…
Although in that case the pheasants were accounted for, it inspired me to try and cook some for myself before the season ends. I love the connection between the land and the table, and it wouldn’t have felt complete without making a dish out of the experience. Happily I was able to return from Borough Market with a plump and extremely reasonably priced brace under my arm.
The rest of the recipe planning was a formality, and also very traditional. Game is the perfect partner for strong, earthy flavours. Irony always has a way with these things, and like how rabbit and carrots go hand in hand, so do pheasants and grain. I’ve only really got into cooking with barley since meeting Katie, and a wonderfully versatile ingredient it is too. In this recipe it is almost made like a risotto, soaking up those deep mushroom flavours.
Baking the celeriac in salt certainly considerably lengthens this recipe, but if you have the time it is worth it. I hadn’t used this technique before, and was dubious about any dramatic changes in flavour compared to a traditional mash or puree. But the way that the salt seals the vegetable to cook in its own juices enhances the sweetness, and I love the theatre of cracking into the giant sphere. I will definitely be trying this out with other root vegetables.
Serves 2
Ingredients:
For the pheasant:
1 pheasant, legs removed and kept for confit, wishbone removed and all trimmings kept for sauce
50g butter
A few sprigs of thyme
Olive oil
Salt and pepper
For the sauce:
All of the trimmings and giblets from the pheasant
1 clove garlic, finely sliced
2 shallots, finely chopped
1 tsp fennel seeds
5 sprigs of thyme
100ml brandy
500ml good chicken or pheasant stock
20g butter
Olive oil
For the barley:
100g pearl barley
1 shallot, finely chopped
1 garlic clove, finely chopped
2 sprigs fresh thyme leaves, picked
3 tbsp dried porcini, soaked and finely chopped
Splash of white wine
Approx. 600ml good chicken stock
20g butter
For the salt-baked celeriac:
1 medium celeriac
4 egg whites
800g table salt
5 sprigs of thyme, leaves picked
A dash of double cream
10g butter
For the confit pheasant leg:
2 legs from the pheasant
3 garlic cloves
5 sprigs of thyme
6 peppercorns
4 tbsp coarse salt
500g duck fat
20g butter
For the chanterelles:
12 chanterelle mushrooms, trimmed and brushed clean
For the savoy cabbage:
A couple of big cabbage leaves, sliced thinly
1 clove of garlic, finely chopped
20g butter
Olive oil
Splash of water
Splash of white wine vinegar
Prepare and cure the pheasant legs the day before cooking. Carefully remove the thigh bones, leaving the flesh in one piece so that just the drumstick bones remain. Place in a bowl and rub with the salt, garlic, thyme and peppercorns, then cover and refrigerate overnight.
Soak the dried porcini mushrooms in boiling water for at least fifteen minutes. Drain, reserving the liquid; use this to boost the chicken stock for the sauce and pearl barley. Finely chop the mushrooms and set aside until you make the barley.
Pre-heat the oven to 200⁰C (fan).
To confit the pheasant legs, rinse the salt off and pat dry. Melt the duck fat in a small saucepan to 85⁰C then add the legs, garlic and thyme. Cook at that temperature for 1 ½ hours, making sure that the oil doesn’t boil. When cooked, drain and set aside for crisping up.
To make the salt crust for the celeriac, thoroughly mix the salt, egg whites and thyme leaves in a bowl until they form a dry paste. Place the celeriac on a baking dish and coat with a thick layer of the salt paste, making sure there are no gaps. Bake in the oven for 2 1/2 hours.
To make the pearl barley, heat half of the butter in a saucepan. Gently fry the shallot, garlic and thyme on a low heat until soft, then add the chopped porcini and continue to cook for another couple of minutes. Turn the heat up slightly and pour in the barley, stirring until the grains are coated. Add the wine and allow it to be absorbed before adding the first half ladle of stock. Stir frequently and only add more liquid when needed. Cook for about 20 minutes, or until the barley has increased in size and is just al dente. The liquid should be reduced and sticking to the grains. Set aside for finishing later.
For the sauce, heat up some oil in a frying pan or skillet to a high heat. Season the pheasant trimmings and giblets and fry quickly until well browned on all sides. Add the garlic, shallots, fennel seeds and thyme and colour. Add the brandy and carefully flambé until all of the alcohol has burned off. Pour in the stock and continue to cook until only about 150ml of thick liquid remains. Strain into a small saucepan and set aside.
When the celeriac has been in the oven for 2 1/2 hours remove from the oven. Keep warm while you prepare the pheasant.
Heat a non-stick frying pan to a high heat and add a little olive oil. Season the pheasant crown well all over and cook for 2 minutes on each breast, until well browned. Transfer to a small oven dish and smother with the butter and thyme sprigs. Put in the oven for 15-17 minutes, so that the meat still remains a little pink. Baste the meat with the butter every 4-5 minutes. Remove from the oven and allow to rest for 10 minutes.
While the pheasant is in the oven prepare the celeriac. Crack open the salt crust and slice the top off. Pass the soft inside through a sieve into a bowl, then season and mix with the cream and butter. Keep warm until you plate up.
When the pheasant is resting, finish off the other elements of the dish:
Sautee the garlic for the cabbage in the butter over a medium heat until tender, then add the cabbage, seasoning and water and cook for 3-4 minutes. Stir in the white wine vinegar.
Re-heat the pan used to sear the pheasant and add the butter. Fry the confit legs over a high heat, basting frequently with the butter until crisp and golden. When the legs are nearly cooked add the chanterelle mushrooms and cook for a further minute.
Reheat the sauce and pearl barley, stirring a small knob of butter into each until emulsified.
Using a sharp knife, carefully cut the rested pheasant breasts from the bone and slice each one into three pieces.
To plate up, spoon a mound of the celeriac onto each plate and some of the pearl barley next to it. Position the pheasant leg and breast pieces on top. Arrange small piles of the cabbage and some chanterelles around the meat, then spoon over some of the sauce.
It’s been a while since my last post. Tragically, my twin brother died very suddenly just before Christmas after a very short battle with cancer. All thoughts of cooking flew out the window as my family came together to support each other through the most difficult time imaginable.
I’ve only been back in London a week or so, and it feels good to slowly get back into a normal routine, even though I’m not sure I know what normality feels like anymore. Like many other food centrics, cooking proves therapeutic and healing, and never more so than in the last couple of weeks. Luckily, I’ve had some spare time on my hands recently, so I’ve had afternoons to tuck my head into the butchers, and time to nosy about the green grocers again. I’m finally itching to get back in the kitchen, and with thoughts firmly on my wonderful brother, this was always going to be my first post…
The inspiration for this recipe is the pasta of my youth. It was one of the first things that I was confident in cooking, and would cook it at any given opportunity. When my parents went on holidays I was always in charge of the cooking, and invariably we would eat this dish two or three times over that period. This became my brother’s favourite, and we would gorge on it until we were fit to burst before laying on the sofa groaning in pain. When we stopped living in the same house, he would always phone me to be reminded of the recipe, complaining that he had tried to make it but it hadn’t been “quite right”.
Of course in those days I hadn’t even heard of things like ‘nduja, and it was a good few years until I would learn to make pasta. The sauce would be made with chorizo or bacon, mixed with a tin of chopped tomatoes and then poured over whatever dried pasta we had in the cupboard. This recipe is slightly more refined, but the taste still brings back warm happy memories.
‘Nduja seems to be a very trendy ingredient at the moment in restaurants and food blogs, but despite this it’s still relatively difficult to get hold of. It gave me a great excuse to head to Borough Market where I found a wonderful British made variety. The texture of the soft salami is similar to those I have tried before, but the taste is slightly less spicy and more fragrant with fennel seeds. Delicious. My brother always hated anchovies, but accepted them in this sauce as they just melt away and enhance all of the other flavours.
Although my reasoning for making farfalle in this recipe was in tribute to the random pasta shapes that we used to find at home, the shape is very suitable with the sauce. The large surface area grips the sauce meaning that you get a good taste with every mouthful.
Serves 2
Ingredients:
For the pasta:
200g ‘00’ grade flour
2 medium eggs
1 tbsp olive oil
Good pinch of salt
For the sauce:
1 shallot, finely chopped
2 garlic cloves, finely sliced
½ red chilli, finely chopped
1 tsp smoked sweet paprika
1 tsp fennel seeds
3 sprigs rosemary, finely chopped
4 anchovy fillets, roughly chopped
80g ‘nduja, skinned and chopped roughly
1 glass red wine
15-20 very small ripe cherry tomatoes, quartered
Olive oil
Salt and pepper
To finish:
Parmesan, finely grated
Basil leaves
Extra virgin olive oil
To make the pasta, put the flour, eggs, salt and oil into a food processor and pulse until the mixture resembles coarse breadcrumbs. Tip out onto a clean surface and knead well for about 10 minutes until the dough is smooth and elastic in texture. Wrap with clingfilm and allow to rest in the fridge for at least half an hour.
Remove the dough from the fridge and roll through the thickest setting 6-10 times, folding after each pass. Lightly dust the sheet with flour then pass once down through the settings until you reach the thinnest. Lay the long, thin pasta sheet onto a floured surface. To make the farfalle, cut small rectangles out of the sheet and shape them by gently pushing out the middle and folding in the narrow sides to form a bow tie. Put each one on a lightly floured sheet of greaseproof paper. They can be used straight away, but are best after allowed to dry for a few hours.
Fill a large saucepan with well salted water and bring to the boil.
To make the sauce, heat a little olive oil in a large non-stick frying pan. Cook the shallot, garlic, rosemary, fennel seeds, chilli and paprika over a medium heat for a few minutes until softened. Season a little. Add the ‘nduja and anchovy and continue to fry for another few minutes, stirring until they almost melt into the mixture. Turn the heat up slightly and pour in the red wine and allow to reduce by half. Stir in the quartered tomatoes until slightly softened.
Tip the farfalle into the boiling water and cook for 1-2 minutes. When cooked, use a slotted spoon and transfer the pasta to the frying pan with the sauce, along with 1 tbsp of the cooking water. Stir gently to combine the sauce and pasta and cook for a further minute. Taste and season if necessary.
Transfer the coated pasta to warmed plates and top with basil leaves, grated parmesan, cracked pepper and a drizzle of extra virgin olive oil.
After posting a lot of simple, quick recipes recently, it’s been nice to finally get around to cooking something with a few more processes. I really love having an occasion to cook for and devoting a proper chunk of time to come up with something a little more special.
Over the past few weeks I have spent a lot of time down in Brighton with my family. Although I love the bustle of London, a few days by the sea does the world of good, and I certainly appreciate it so much more than I did when I lived there. Dad is usually in full command of the cooking and we all get spoilt rotten by the amazing hearty dishes that he effortlessly rustles up for every meal. We also benefit from all of the fresh produce that my parents bring back from their allotment. Chard risottos and squash soups have been a plenty, and I think that they are secretly relieved that they have finally worked their way through the glut of tomatoes that have been piled high in their kitchen over the past few months. I am so lucky that my family have always been interested in food, and sharing it with everyone around.
With dad strictly territorial over his kitchen I don’t get to cook at home very often. Having all of the family about also makes it very dangerous to leave any bowls of prep lying around. But it was really nice to give something back over the weekend and make lunch for everyone. It also gave me the chance to make the most of the amazing produce that Brighton has to offer. In London you can buy absolutely any ingredients and the city is awash with farmers markets and specialist producers. You can come across multi-coloured carrots, purple cauliflowers, micro leaves, anything. But this comes at a hefty price. By the coast there simply isn’t the choice, however more reasonable rents and direct sourcing mean that prices can be staggeringly less. A walk up to the fishmongers at Shoreham harbour was a revelation. I was like a kid in a sweet shop. Huge wild bass, stacks of amazing brill and turbot and massive tanks of crabs and lobster. Everything was near enough half the price of the capital too. But what I was there for was the monkfish. I left with hefty bag of fish and a paranoid stance; there was no way I was going to let one of those thieving seagulls fly away with my loot.
Monkfish is a strictly special occasion fish for me. Its price and conservation status mean that it should be eaten sparingly, despite the fact that it is damn tasty. I first had it years ago, served up crisply battered and hot enough to steam up my glasses on that freezing Cornish afternoon. Every time I have eaten it since I have treasured it. That meaty yet succulent texture and robust taste really sets it apart from other fish. And on this rare occasion that I found myself in possession of a whole tail I was determined not to mess it up.
Roasting fish whole seems so underrated these days. I am a big fan of pan frying individual fillets, but for flavour and moisture retention baking fish on the bone wins hands down. The minimal bone structure of monkfish makes it perfect for cooking in this way; they are easier to carve than a chicken when ready. The combination of fish, cauliflower and something salty and tangy is a classic. The cider vinegar dressing contains many of the flavours of tartar sauce, but lightened using just oil instead of a mayonnaise to carry it. The artichoke crisps, roasted vegetables and chicken skin add a much needed crunch to the dish.
Serves 4
Ingredients:
For the monkfish:
1 x monkish tail, approx. 1kg, skinned but kept on the bone
70g butter
Olive oil
Salt and pepper
½ lemon, juice only
For the roasted cauliflower:
12 large cauliflower florets
Olive oil
Salt and pepper
For the cauliflower puree:
½ a small cauliflower, cut into even sized chunks
30g butter
A splash of milk
¼ lemon, juice only
Salt and pepper
For the Jerusalem artichoke crisps:
2 jerusalem artichokes
Vegetable oil for frying, approx 500ml
For the crispy chicken skin:
The skin from 2 chicken thighs
Salt
For the cider vinegar dressing:
½ a shallot, very finely chopped
½ a clove of garlic, very finely chopped
½ tsp Dijon mustard
½ tsp capers, very finely chopped
¼ lemon, juice only
1 large pinch of chives, finely chopped
1 large pinch of parsley, finely chopped
Splash of cider vinegar
Approx. 3tbsp extra virgin olive oil
To finish:
A few rocket leaves
A twist of cracked black pepper
Preheat the oven to 200⁰C.
To make the crispy chicken skin, line a baking sheet with greaseproof paper and spread on the chicken skin in a thin, even layer. Place another piece of greaseproof paper on top and then another baking sheet. Put into the hot oven for about 10 minutes, until brown and crispy. Transfer to a piece of kitchen paper to drain. Once cool, shred up into small pieces and set aside.
Heat the frying oil in a medium-sized, heavy saucepan until it reaches about 170⁰C. Using a vegetable peeler, create long, thin strips of the Jerusalem artichoke, then fry in batches in the hot oil. When they turn a light golden colour, transfer carefully to some kitchen paper to drain. Sprinkle with salt and allow to cool.
To make the puree, bring a large saucepan of water to the boil. Add the cauliflower florets and a good pinch of salt and boil for about 5 minutes, or until very tender. Drain well and tip the cauliflower into a food processor along with the butter, milk, lemon juice and some salt and pepper. Blitz well, adding a little more milk if necessary to achieve a smooth, light texture. Pass the mixture through a fine sieve into a small saucepan then cover and set aside to be gently reheated later.
Preheat the oven to 200⁰C. Remove the monkfish from the fridge about half an hour before cooking to allow it to come to room temperature.
Put the cauliflower florets onto a baking tray and coat with olive oil and salt and pepper. Roast in the hot oven for about 20 minutes, tossing occasionally.
For the monkfish, line a large roasting dish with greaseproof paper and drizzle with olive oil and sprinkle over a good amount of seasoning. Roll the monkfish in the tray so that all sides are covered. Dot over knobs of the butter and roast in the hot oven for approx. 15 minutes, basting frequently.
While the fish and cauliflower are roasting make the dressing. Add the garlic, shallot, mustard, vinegar, lemon juice, capers and herbs to a bowl and mix well with a whisk. Slowly drizzle in the oil whilst still whisking until the oil has been emulsified. Taste and season if needed, you want the dressing to be quite sharp.
When the monkfish is cooked remove from the oven, squeeze over the lemon and allow to rest for 5 minutes. While it does, gently reheat the cauliflower puree.
To plate up, carve the monkfish into two fillets then cut into chunky medallions. Spoon three blobs of the puree onto each plate. Top with a piece of the fish and a little of the dressing. Arrange three of the cauliflower florets around the plate, then scatter the artichoke crisps, chicken skin, rocket and pepper on top.
The relationship between food and family and friends is extremely close and important to me. Growing up as part of a large family, my parents would often be busy cooking two or three different meals per evening for fussy children of different ages, and then finally themselves. Despite this, they always made sure that we all sat down and had dinner together at least 4-5 times a week, and this is something that I will be very keen to pass down when I am a father. Most of my memories involve food. Big family Sunday roasts with steaming joints of chicken. The day my dad called me to the kitchen to make me try a mussel he was cooking for a dinner party (I hated it!). Gazing through old cookbooks with my mum, and really wanting to make the cake that was a house in the shape of a boot, complete with a shredded wheat roof. Thinking about these times fills me with a warmth and happiness. Food is so much more than a fuel to keep us alive, it binds us socially, creates atmosphere and inspires. The wafting smell of bread baking in the oven does so much more than just produce a loaf for toast.
As I have grown older this bond between food and my social life has become stronger. Nowadays I love nothing more than having friends over for a good meal and a glass or two of wine. I enjoy going out to nice restaurants and eating fancy food where every ingredient intrigues, but my fondest meals are ones where the food is a background constant to bustling conversation. For this kind of occasion, cooking should not dominate; I don’t want to be stuck in the kitchen away from my friends. But that doesn’t mean that it can’t be good, it just needs to be approached in a different way.
On this occasion a few weeks ago, a couple of old friends were coming over for dinner. At first I was just going to knock together a simple but tasty one pot supper, something casual to plonk on the table for everyone to help themselves. This was thrown out the window the day before however, when they told me that they had seen this blog, and they had high expectations of what they would be served. This presented me with a challenge, as I had to try and create something impressive that was practical socially. All those memories of dad making his dinner party staple of salmon en croute came flooding back!
Salmon was not on the menu for me however. I love making pasta, and the thought of a slow-cooked, meaty ragu sauce was too much to resist. This ticked all of my worry boxes; the homemade pasta and flavoursome sauce would please my guests, and I would be able to make the whole thing in advance.
I know that in the last month I have cooked beef a lot, with a tartare, a Wellington and now a ragu, but for this meal it worked perfectly. My only dilemma was the cut to use. Ideally I would have used something with bags of flavour like cheek, shin or oxtail. But as it was a Sunday and I had limited time on my hands, I left the butchers with a whopping piece of chuck. This is the joy of local, independent butchers; you can really talk to them about what you want to cook, and they have the wealth of knowledge to advise. So although they didn’t have the cuts I was looking for (but would have been able to order with a few days notice), I left with something that was still bang up for the job.
Britain has some wonderful mushrooms, and a quick gaze at this blog will tell you that I am obsessed with them. I am lucky that my local greengrocer has a wide range, and I really recommend searching in local food markets. But if you can’t get hold of girolles, then meaty, strong mushrooms such as chestnut or portabella will also work well.
Lots of this preparation can be done days before it is needed, and aside from the pasta, requires very little time. The sauce itself gets better over time, and any leftovers are great with potatoes or as a pie filling.
Serves 6-8
Ingredients:
For the pasta:
600g strong ‘00’ grade flour
6 eggs
1 tbsp salt
2 tbsp olive oil
For the ragu:
1.5kg chuck steak, cut into 2-3” chunks
200g plain flour
2 onions, finely chopped
1 head of garlic, chopped in half
2 celery sticks, finely chopped
2 carrots, finely chopped
200g button mushrooms, sliced
2 bay leaves
10 sprigs of thyme
2 sprigs of rosemary
½ bottle of red wine
1.5ltr good beef stock
Salt and pepper
6 rashers smoked streaky bacon, finely chopped
2 shallots, finely chopped
50g butter, cubed
40g pecorino, finely grated
For the sage leaves:
About 30 sage leaves
3-4 tbsp vegetable oil, for frying
For the girolles:
About 30 girolle mushrooms, cleaned and trimmed
30g butter
½ clove garlic, finely chopped
Salt and pepper
To finish:
Grated pecorino
Extra virgin olive oil
Pepper
Get the ragu going to start with. Tip the plain flour onto a plate and season well, then use this mixture to lightly dust the chuck steak. Heat up a large, heavy bottomed saucepan to a high temperature and add 2 tbsp of oil. Cook the meat in batches, searing quickly until well browned on all sides before removing to a plate. When all of the meat is cooked, add the onions and celery. Sautee for a couple of minutes until coloured, then add the carrots, garlic, mushrooms and herbs. Continue to cook for another 2-3 minutes then pour in the red wine. Bring to the boil and allow to reduce slightly, then put the meat back into the pan. Cover with the stock, topping up with water if needed. Season well and bring back to the boil then turn down to a simmer. Cover with a lid and cook for about 5 hours, until the meat is falling apart.
While the ragu is cooking, make the pasta. Add the flour, eggs, salt and oil to a food processor and blend until the mixture resembles coarse breadcrumbs. Tip out onto a clean surface and pat together, then knead well for 10-15 minutes. The dough should be soft in texture but not sticky. Wrap well in cling film and put in the fridge to rest for at least half an hour, preferably longer.
When the dough has rested, remove it from the fridge and cut it into four pieces. Dust with a little flour, then pass one piece through the widest setting of a pasta machine. Repeat 7-8 times, or until the dough has a really elastic texture. Rub with a little more flour if it starts to turn sticky at this point. Now roll the pasta down through each setting on the machine you get to the second thinnest; number 5 on an Imperia machine. Sprinkle the outside of the sheet with flour, cover with a clean tea towel and repeat with the other pieces of pasta dough. Cut the sheets to the length that you want the pappardelle to be, then pass through the pasta cutter. Dust a cooling rack with flour and lay the individual strands down to dry. Keep the pasta separate and in one layer to avoid sticking.
To prepare the sage leaves, pour the oil in a small frying pan and put on a medium-high heat. When hot, add the sage in batches and cook for 20-30 seconds, or until crispy, then remove to a plate lined with kitchen roll. Set aside until needed later.
After 5 hours, carefully remove the meat and a little of the liquid to a bowl and allow to cool. Once cold, finely shred the meat and set aside. Strain the remaining stock from the saucepan through a sieve into a large bowl and discard the cooked vegetables. Set a large, high-sided frying pan or skillet onto a medium-high heat and add a little oil. Add the bacon and cook for a couple of minutes until starting to colour, then add the shallot and fry for another 2 minutes. Now pour in the strained stock. Turn the heat up and allow to reduce by at least half, until just enough is left to hold the shredded meat. Turn down to a simmer and add the meat, combining well so that the sauce and meat come together as one. Taste and season if necessary, then turn the heat right down until needed.
Fill a large saucepan with well-salted water and bring to the boil.
While the water is boiling, raise the heat of the ragu sauce pan to a simmer.
When the water boils add the pasta. Cook for 1-2 minutes, until just al dente.
While the pasta is cooking, add the cubed butter and grated pecorino to ragu sauce and stir well to combine. Taste and add salt and pepper if needed. As soon as the pasta is cooked, use tongs to transfer the pappardelle to the pan with the ragu and toss to combine well, so that every strand is coated. Remove from the heat.
Heat up a medium sized frying pan to a moderate temperature and add the butter for the mushrooms. Fry the garlic for 30 seconds then add the prepared girolles, cooking for another couple of minutes until crisp on the outside and soft in the middle.
To plate, spoon a generous amount of the pasta into bowl and top with some of the girolles and sage leaves. Grate over some more pecorino, grind some black pepper and drizzle a little extra virgin olive oil.
Every August sees the birthday of Katie’s sister, Lois, and the chance for me to cook up a storm. For the past three years all she has wanted as a present is a home cooked meal, which is absolutely fine by me. The four of us all get on really well, and it’s lovely to be able to play host, open a few bottles of wine and create a proper celebration meal.
Normally on these kind of occasions I would spend weeks thinking up the right thing to cook, but this time I was told straight way what was to be expected; a beef wellington. I made this for Lois on the first year that we celebrated her birthday, and it has kept popping up in food conversations ever since. Despite being a bit of a retro classic and not served in restaurants much these days, a well-cooked wellington is perfect for a special occasion. Surely there’s nothing better than a luxuriously tender piece of meat surrounded by mushrooms and a case of melt in the mouth pastry!
Although I hadn’t made it for a couple of years, I was confident in pulling it off. Once you get the hang of constructing and cooking a wellington it’s pretty easy. For this occasion I wanted to make tweaks to the dish to elevate it to a higher level. To achieve this I made my own rough puff pastry for the wellington itself, and really made an effort with all of the items that would accompany it on the plate. This made the making process very time consuming, but seeing it all together on the plate really made it worthwhile.
Instead of just serving the fillet of beef as the meat element, I wanted to incorporate a few less used cuts into the dish. I really enjoy doing this with my cooking, be it serving a braised leg of poultry with a pan-fried breast to a smoked pate with a grilled piece of fish. It makes the meal as a whole more interesting and introduces a wider range of flavour. For this recipe I slowly cooked the shin cut to stuff into the buttery fondant potatoes, and also the bone marrow, which I quickly fried as a garnish and also melted into the sauce. Ok I admit, I really wasn’t keen on bone marrow when I first tried it at Hawksmoor earlier in the year. But I have since persevered and eaten it a few more times and developed a taste for it. The melting texture and rich beefy taste is a wonderful thing, and I cannot wait to try cooking with it again. It is also a very cheap cut, appearing more and more commonly in good butchers.
For this meal I didn’t have a chance to visit said good local butcher, so once again ordered from the East London Steak Co. I normally like to see my meat before I buy it, but I was dead impressed with the service and quality of my delivery. The price was also a fair bit less, and I saved over a tenner on my piece of fillet steak alone. What I also like about the ELSC is the little card that comes with your order, informing you of the breed, farm, slaughter date and who was handled it along the way. Little details like this are the way forward, and I would thoroughly recommend their service.
A lot of the items in this recipe can be substituted to make the whole process much quicker. Once you have mastered the wellington it can be served with so many different things, from creamy mash to dauphanoise potatoes. But this was certainly a celebration and the time spent making everything was a pleasure.
Serves 4
Ingredients:
For the rough puff pastry:
500g plain flour
250g butter, cold, cut into cubes
200g lard, cold, cut into cubes
1 tbsp English mustard powder
1 tsp baking powder
300ml milk
Salt
1 egg, beaten
For the mushrooms duxelle:
8 large portobello mushrooms, very finely chopped
2 garlic cloves, very finely chopped
1 shallot, very finely chopped
2 tbsp parsley leaves, very finely chopped
¼ lemon, juice only
Olive oil
50g butter
Salt and pepper
For the rest of the wellington:
800g centre-cut piece of beef fillet, trimmed of any sinew
2 tbsp thyme leaves, finely chopped
10 slices Parma ham
Olive oil
Salt and pepper
For the braised shin fondant potato:
2 bone-in shin steaks
6 pieces of marrowbone, cut into 1 ½” rounds
½ bottle red wine
2 onions, sliced
2 carrots, roughly sliced
3 garlic cloves, crushed
2 sticks of celery, roughly chopped
2 litres good beef stock
10 sprigs thyme
2 bay leaves
1 star anise
Olive oil
4 large maris piper potatoes
1 tbsp thyme leaves, finely chopped
5 sprigs thyme, left whole
50g butter
200g goose fat
500ml good beef stock
3 garlic cloves, crushed
For the sauce:
The strained leftover stock from the braised shins
30g butter
Salt and pepper
For the pan fried bone marrow:
4 1 ½” bone marrow cylinders, soaked and pushed out of the bone
50g flour
Salt and pepper
Olive oil
20g butter
Olive oil
For the kale:
6 large kale leaves, tough stalks removed and roughly cut
1 garlic clove, very finely chopped
2 anchovy fillets, very finely chopped
30g butter
Salt and pepper
For the mushrooms:
16 pied bleu mushrooms, trimmed and brushed
16 girolle mushrooms, trimmed and brushed
1 garlic clove, very finely chopped
¼ lemon, juice only
30g butter
Olive oil
Salt and pepper
First braise the beef shins. Bring a large heavy saucepan to a high heat. Season the shin steaks well and rub with a little olive oil. Sear well on all sides until well browned then remove to a side plate. Add a little more oil to the pan then the onions, celery, garlic and carrots, stirring well and colouring. Pour in the wine and bring to the boil. Add the marrow bones, seared shin steaks, thyme, bay and star anise, then top up with the stock. Heat back up to the boil and then reduce to a simmer, cover and cook for 4-5 hours, until the meat falls apart. Allow to cool.
Remove the shin steaks from the stock and shred really well. Season and mix with the chopped thyme leaves. Set aside until needed later. Strain the stock and reserve for making the sauce later.
Next make the rough puff pastry. Put the flour, butter, lard, baking powder, mustard powder and milk into a mixing bowl and combine lightly: the chunks of fat should be running through the mixture whole. Tip out onto a well floured surface and roll out into a rectangle of about 1cm thickness. This will be tricky the first time, and the mixture will look all wrong but it will get better each roll. Fold the pastry into thirds to form a long rectangle, then into half. Wrap with cling film and chill in the fridge for 30 minutes. Repeat this process twice more, then the pastry will be ready for the final roll later. Chill until needed.
To make the mushroom duxelle, set a large frying pan or skillet to a medium heat and add a tablespoon of olive oil and the butter. When hot cook the shallot and garlic for a couple of minutes until tender. Add the mushrooms and seasoning, and cook for about 15 minutes, until all moisture has been evaporated. Remove from the heat, stir through the parsley and taste for seasoning. Allow to cool fully.
Take the fillet of beef out of the fridge for at least 30 minutes and allow to come to room temperature. Heat a large heavy frying pan until smoking hot. Season the outside of the meat really well with salt, pepper and the thyme leaves, and rub all over with a little olive oil. Sear the fillet in the hot pan for about a minute each side to seal the meat and caramelise a little. Remove and allow to cool.
Lay down 2 large strips of cling film side by side on a chopping board and arrange the Parma ham into an overlapping rectangle that is 2 strips deep and 5 wide. Spread a thin layer of the mushroom duxelle on top, leaving a lip of about 2cm around the edges. Position the cooled fillet in the middle, then very carefully wrap the Parma ham around, using the cling film to make it as tight as possible. Wrap tightly with more cling film and chill in the fridge for at least half an hour.
Roll your finished pastry into a rectangle that is 2-3 inches longer than the fillet at each end, and wide enough to fold right around. It should be about 1cm thick. Beat an egg in a small bowl and brush a little all over the surface. Place the wrapped fillet on top and very carefully fold the pastry around, sealing tightly at the side and ends. Trim away any excess pastry, and roll the wellington so that the join is on the bottom. Place on a lined baking tray and chill until needed.
Pour the strained stock into a large, shallow saucepan and bring to the boil. Keep reducing until only about 300-400ml is left, and the sauce has thickened and intensified in flavour. Transfer to a smaller saucepan and set aside for finishing later.
Next make the stuffed fondant potatoes. Cut the top and bottom off the potatoes and use a cutter to create a neat cylinder shape about 2” in height. Cut a 1cm lid off the top, then use a mellon baller to scoop out the centres. Stuff with a good amount of the braised, shredded shin mixture. Heat a frying pan to a high heat with a little olive oil and quickly fry the top of the lids for a couple of minutes until golden brown. Remove and place on top of the stuffed fondants. Place in a deep, lined baking dish with the whole thyme sprigs, the butter and the garlic.
Heat the oven to 200ºC.
Put the goose fat and beef stock into a small saucepan and heat up until just boiling. Pour the fat around the potatoes until half way up then put in the oven for about 40 minutes, or until the potato is cooked through.
Brush the outside of the beef wellington with more beaten egg and put in the oven at this point too, cooking for 30 minutes for rare (as in photo). Cook for 5 or so minutes longer for better done. Remove from the oven and allow to rest for 10 minutes.
When the wellington comes out of the oven, finish off all of the accompaniments. Try and cook them all at the same time so that they are all hot when serving.
For the kale, heat up a large frying pan to a medium temperature and melt the butter with the chopped anchovy and garlic. Sweat for a minute then add the kale and 100ml of water and cook for another couple of minutes until wilted. Keep warm until ready to serve.
To cook the mushrooms, heat a frying pan to medium/hot and add 1 tbsp of oil and the butter. When melted add the pied bleu mushrooms, then the girolles a minute later. Season well and fry for another couple of minutes until just cooked.
Heat up the sauce and stir through the butter until melted and emulsified. Taste and adjust the seasoning if needed.
Lastly cook the bone marrow. Heat up a small frying pan to medium/hot. Tip the flour onto a plate and mix in some seasoning. Roll the marrow pieces in the flour to coat, shake off the excess and fry for a couple of minutes until crispy on the outside. Be careful not to cook them for too long or they will melt!
To plate up, cut thick pieces of the Wellington and arrange one carefully on each plate. Add the cooked fondant potatoes and a serving of kale. Place a piece of the bone marrow on top of the kale and scatter around the mushrooms. Finally spoon over some of the sauce and serve.
