Never has a blog recipe been as seemingly easy as it was this afternoon. That’s not supposed to be a gloat, more sheer surprise. I was really happy with how things went with the langoustine dish that I posted last week, and I must have been feeling inspired as everything fell straight into place when it came to todays cook. I think that sometimes you go on a bit of a roll with the direction that your recipes go in, and during certain seasons some amazing ingredients are readily available, making thinking up recipes easy peasy. I’ll certainly take it while it lasts, as I know well that there’ll also be frustrating times ahead when I’m lacking ideas and inspiration.
This recipe came about through two split ideas that I decided to merge together. Funnily enough, the thing linking them was the sprouts. I’ve got to admit, I’ve always been a sprout lover and always think that they get such an undeserved reputation every year. They are a really fantastic vegetable and incredibly good for you. Health benefits aside, they’re far more than just that pile of mulch-coloured domes that have been boiled to death on Christmas day. Although I’ll certainly happily eat them that way too. They are totally transformed when grilled and charred, until they start to crisp and blacken. Another great way with them is to slice finely and cook with lardons, leeks, white wine and butter as a base for a simply cooked piece of white fish. And if you can’t be bothered with any of that, just chuck into a curry and they’ll be as good as gold.
Sprout lusting over, sorry about that. Back to the story. I’d been trying to think of a good recipe to use them in for this blog, but always seemed to be lacking a complete dish. I loved the idea of combing sprouts with something salty and punchy, like when combined with bacon, and thought the smokey depth of the cod’s roe would work a treat. But those two ingredients alone didn’t make much of a satisfying supper, which is where the lamb came in. Lamb has often and unfairly been ignored on this blog, and through no bad intention or ill-feeling on my part. I just haven’t got round to cooking with it much recently. So in the back of my mind I was also trying to work on a lamb dish, when the light bulb lit up and I had one of those eureka moments. I had enjoyed eating lamb when paired with anchovies, or as part of a tangy salsa verde, so surely something salty and strong like cod’s roe would achieve a similar outcome? It was a bit of an odd mixture in theory though, and I got some funny looks when describing it to friends. Thank goodness it worked then, as I could just imagine people laughing me off for trying to combine such silly ingredients. I’m really pleased I gave it a try, and when I found myself sitting down surrounded by washing up just picking on cuts of lamb dipped in the cod’s roe I knew it was a winner.
Serves 4
Ingredients:
For the lamb:
1 1.5kg butterflied leg of lamb, bones and trimmings kept
3 garlic cloves, crushed
For the rosemary salt:
5 sprigs of rosemary, leaves picked
2 tbsp sea salt
For the smoked cod’s roe:
125g smoked cod’s roe
½ a garlic clove, grated
½ a lemon, juice only
1 knob of butter
2 tbsp olive oil
For the broccoli puree:
1 head of broccoli, cut into florets
6 sprigs of mint, leaves picked
½ a lemon, zest and juice
1 knob of butter
2 tbsp olive oil
For the charred vegetables:
12 stems purple sprouting broccoli, trimmed
6 large Brussels sprouts, quartered
A squeeze of lemon juice
For the sprout tops:
A good knob of butter
4 large sprout top leaves, stems removed, torn into large pieces
A squeeze of lemon juice
For the lamb dressing:
The roasting juices from the lamb
1 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
3 sprigs of rosemary
Pre heat the oven to 190⁰C.
Take the lamb out of the fridge at least 30 minutes before cooking.
To make the rosemary salt, put the rosemary and the sea salt into a small food processor and mix well, until both ingredients are combined and finely chopped. Tip into a bowl and set aside.
Heat up a heavy griddle until smoking hot.
Rub a good amount of the rosemary salt, freshly ground black pepper and some olive oil into the lamb and the bones. When the griddle is hot, brown the bones and any trimming on all sides then transfer to an oven dish along with the crushed garlic cloves. Now put the lamb on the griddle and cook for 2-3 minutes on each side, until well browned and starting the char. Place on top of the bones and garlic and roast in the oven for 30 minutes for medium rare, or a little less or more to your taste.
When the lamb is cooked, transfer it to a wooden board and let it rest for 20 minutes.
Whilst the lamb is cooking, make the smoked cod’s roe puree. Put the roe, garlic and butter into a small food processor and combine until everything is smooth. Add the lemon juice and a bit of seasoning and mix again. With the motor still running, drizzle in the olive oil very slowly. Pass through a fine sieve into a bowl, cover and set aside.
Boil up some water in a saucepan for the broccoli. When hot, add the florets and a sprinkle of salt. Simmer for about 4 minutes, or until tender. Drain and transfer to a food processor along with the mint, lemon zest and juice and the butter and blitz well. With the motor still running, drizzle in the olive oil. Taste and adjust the seasoning if needed. Pass through a fine sieve and spoon into a plastic bottle.
Melt the butter for the sprout tops in a saucepan over a medium heat. Tip in the sprout tops, a little seasoning and a splash of water and cook for a few minutes, until the leaves are just wilted and tender. Squeeze over the lemon juice and remove from the heat. Keep warm.
Re-heat the griddle pan used to cook the lamb. When very hot, pour in some oil and add the quartered sprouts and sprouting broccoli. Cook for about a minute on each side, or until golden brown. Squeeze over the lemon juice and add a little of the rosemary salt. Keep warm.
When the lamb is resting, put the roasting tray containing the bones, garlic and juices back onto a medium/high heat. Throw in the rosemary sprigs and bring back to the boil. Reduce slightly, then strain into a small bowl. Stir in the extra virgin olive oil. Taste and adjust the seasoning and acidity levels if needed.
To plate up, cut the lamb into thick slices. Spread a tablespoon of the smoked cod’s roe onto the middle of each plate and arrange a couple of bits of lamb and sprout tops on top. Dot around some of the broccoli puree and scatter over a few of the charred sprouts and broccoli florets. Finish with a small sprinkle of the rosemary salt and a spoonful of the lamb dressing.
With the shellfish season still very much at large, I thought it rude not to carry on using it for this recipe as well. Langoustines are always just that little bit special, and I’ve been meaning to create a recipe with them for ages. Not that I haven’t tried. A few years ago I made something with john dory, langoustines and peperonata, which just didn’t quite work in the execution. Same for the dish with scallops and crispy langoustine claws. So after those rather expensive mistakes, I’m really pleased that I’ve finally managed to get something up. Those previous attempts weren’t wasted though, and served as something of a work in progress in helping to make this final recipe. The shellfish sauce and lemon mayonnaise was nicked from the first attempt, and I’ve incorporated those crispy claws after all. But here everything works really well and the finished dish was a joy to eat.
The langoustines that I managed to get hold of were feisty old things, nothing like the sad little pink ones that line supermarket fish counters around Christmas time. These were almost like mini lobsters, with great big claws that they weren’t afraid of having a go with. I certainly had to be careful not to trap a finger! Despite their size, the actual yield of the langoustines was pretty small, and especially at the price they were it was important that I used as much of them as possible. The shells, combined with the sweet flavour of the gurnard bones made an intense sauce. The smell that came from that lot caramelising in the pan had me salivating. When it came to the claws, I drew inspiration from something I’d seen Philip Howard make on the television a few years ago. He had found himself in the enviable place of having a glut of disused langoustine claws, and instead of wasting them, he scooped out the meat and deep fried them. The technique itself was a fiddly one, but well worth it as the crispy bits of soft langoustine that I was left with were really good.
With the cooking of the langoustine tails themselves, it was another lesson previously learnt. On other occasions I had hard-fried the tails and found them to seize up in texture, with the tendency to overcook very quickly. By slowly cooking them in butter, this whole process was much gentler and controlled. In taste there was no comparison; they were buttery and soft and just melted in the mouth.
Gurnard is another ingredient that I’ve been desperate to use. At work they are such a difficult fish to sell, and it’s purely because they look so different to everything that customers are used to buying. I think there’s a certain charm to their big heads and overslung mouths, and certainly when it comes to flavour they really are delicious. Their flesh has a sweet, almost shellfish flavour that certainly is attributed to their bottom-feeding diet. Their bones also give a huge boost to soups and stocks. For a cheap fish they are so underrated.
There are lots of different elements going on in the rest of the dish, but everything comes together on the plate. The key is to be as prepared as possible and to make whatever you can in advance. There is quite a bit to do right at the end, and as long as you are well organised and have plenty of space it’s easily achievable.
Serves 2
Ingredients:
6 live (or freshly dispatched) langoustines, peeled; shells, claws and heads kept
For the gurnard:
1 medium gurnard, filleted, pin boned and carcass kept
1 knob of butter
A squeeze of lemon juice
For the crispy claws:
4 of the langoustine claws
3 tbsp plain flour
1 egg, beaten
4-5 tbsp panko flakes
Oil for frying, approx. 1 litre
For the shellfish sauce:
The bones from the gurnard
The shells, heads and spare claws from the langoustines
1 fennel bulb, finely chopped and any spare fronds reserved
1 leek, finely chopped
1 carrot, finely chopped
2 garlic cloves, grated
1 tbsp smoked paprika
1 tsp fennel seeds
1 lemon, zest only
3 tomatoes, roughly chopped
1 tsp tomato puree
A splash of brandy
500ml fish stock
1 knob of butter
For the butter-poached langoustine tails:
The peeled, deveined tails from the langoustines
250g unsalted butter
For the lemon mayonnaise:
2 egg yolks
A splash of white wine vinegar
1 tsp Dijon mustard
1 lemon, zest and juice
200ml rapeseed oil
For the leek oil:
The top green leaves from 1 leek
4/5 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
½ a lemon, juice only
For the charred leeks:
1 large leek or 4-6 baby leeks
½ a lemon
To finish:
Nasturtium leaves
Fennel fronds
Make the leek oil the day before serving. Put the green leek ends into a food processor and pour in the extra virgin olive oil, lemon juice and a little seasoning. Blend well until a fine paste is achieved. Pour into a bowl and refrigerate overnight. Once the oil has infused, strain through some muslin into another bowl. Discard the mushed leek. Cover and set aside until needed.
For the lemon mayonnaise, put the egg yolks, vinegar, lemon zest, mustard and a bit of seasoning into a small food processor and blitz well. With the engine still running, pour the rapeseed oil in really slowly. When the oil has all been emulsified you should have a thick mayonnaise sauce. Squeeze in the lemon juice and let down with a little water if necessary. Taste and adjust the seasoning/acidity then transfer to a plastic bottle and refrigerate.
To make the shellfish sauce, heat up a little oil in a large saucepan. When at a medium-high temperature, add the langoustine shells and the gurnard bones. Colour well on all sides, then add the fennel, leek, garlic, carrot, fennel seeds, paprika and lemon zest. Turn the heat down slightly and soften the vegetables. Stir in the tomato puree and continue to cook for another couple of minutes. Turn the heat back up and pour in the brandy. Burn off the alcohol and reduce slightly. Tip in the tomatoes, pour in the stock and bring to the boil. Simmer for about 20 minutes and then strain the liquid through a sieve into another saucepan. Discard the fish and vegetables. Bring the liquid in the new saucepan back to the boil and reduce until only 6-7 tablespoons of thickened liquid remains. Take off the heat and stir in the knob of butter. Set aside until needed.
Pre-heat the oven to 180⁰C.
For the charred leeks, heat a griddle pan up until smoking hot. Add a little oil, then fry the leek until well charred on all sides. Transfer to an oven tray and roast for about 15 minutes, or until cooked through. Peel away the burnt outer layer and slice what’s left roughly lengthways (into about 6 pieces if using one large leek). Squeeze over the lemon juice and season well.
To prepare the langoustine claws, carefully break and peel away the shells to reveal the meat inside. Scrape the meat away from the cartilage so that you are left with 4 long, soft strips of flesh. Arrange two plates and a bowl on the work surface. Put the flour and panko onto the plates and beat the egg into the bowl. Season each element. Coat the claws in the flour first, before dipping in the egg. Finally transfer to the panko plate and roll around until well covered.
Just before cooking the fish and shellfish to complete the dish, get everything else ready. Reheat the sauce and warm up the leeks if necessary. Make sure your finishing garnish is ready to go.
Preheat the frying oil in a saucepan until it reaches 180⁰C.
Melt the butter for the langoustine tails in a small saucepan and heat until just below simmering.
Pour some oil into a non-stick frying pan and heat to a moderate-high temperature.
When the melted butter is at temperature, season the langoustine tails and lower them into the pan. They should be fully submerged. Take the pan off the heat and allow to cook through really gently for 5-6 minutes.
While the langoustines are cooking, fry the fish. Season the gurnard fillets and lay them skin-down in the hot pan, holding them down for a few seconds to stop them from curling. Cook for 2-3 minutes depending on the thickness, until the skin is crispy. Turn the fillets over and add the butter to the pan. Remove the pan from the heat, and continue to baste the fish with the butter for a minute or so. Finally season again and squeeze over the lemon juice.
At the same time as finishing off the other elements, fry the langoustine claws. Lower them into the hot oil and cook for 1-2 minutes, or until crispy and golden brown in colour. Transfer to some kitchen paper to drain and sprinkle with a little salt.
To plate up, arrange some of the leeks around one side of the plate. Dot around a few blobs of the lemon mayonnaise and add three of the langoustine tails and two of the crispy claws. Arrange the fillet of gurnard on top before spooning over some of the shellfish sauce and a small spoonful of the leek oil. Finally finish off with the nasturtium leaves and the fennel fronds.
Sometimes when out food shopping I see something that is just impossible not to put into the basket. I have a blinkered mentality when buying ingredients for preconceived recipes, and will always be armed with a regimented list. This causes its fair share of problems. Mostly looking like a gormless idiot in the middle of a shop when told that the specific thing that I visited for is out of stock. Little cogs will be whirring away in my head trying to merge the detailed planning with the array of substitutes available. Hence the tendency for spontaneous, and not entirely useful or necessary ingredients. At this point I am in serious danger on picking up any old thing that looks interesting or particularly good. Sure that purple cauliflower, baby artichoke or gooseberries looked lovely in my larder (bowl on the side), but they sure as hell had nothing to do with any cooking I had in mind when leaving the house.
On this occasion it was the scallops. I was out struggling to find guinea fowl for a pasta lunch that I wanted to cook for some friends, and in my confused state I took a momentary breather at the fishmongers. Somehow I must have thought that looking at a varied and colourful display of ultimately totally irrelevant fish would clarify my judgement. It didn’t. But while I made my mind up I carried the extra weight of a handful of plump and voluptuous molluscs. Ever since my dad introduced them to me as an occasional childhood treat, I’ve always been a sucker for a scallop. And these were pearlers; firm to the touch, super-sized and carrying that subtle sweet smell of very fresh shellfish.
But what to do with them, that was the question. They certainly weren’t going to somehow cameo in my long thought-out and just about sourced poultry main. In my last post I rambled on about the importance of planning ahead when cooking for numbers, and with that in mind all I wanted to do was create something quick and simple. Paired with black pudding and peas they are a delicious classic, but not massively interesting. Tarragon, apple and lemon add tanginess, and contrast creamy, salty bacon butter to achieve a delicate balance. And all ready to go in a matter of minutes.
These scallops were very large, and on this occasion were perfect as a small couple of forkfuls before a main course. Double the quantities and halve the diners for something more luxurious and substantial.
Serves 4
Ingredients:
For the scallops:
4 very large scallops, corals detached
1 large knob of butter
For the celeriac:
4 heaped tbsp of fine celeriac julienne
1 heaped tbsp. of fine braeburn apple julinne
1 lemon, juice only
For the bacon butter:
3 tbsp butter
2 rashers of smoked streaky bacon, finely diced
½ a lemon, juice only
To finish:
Tarragon leaves
½ lemon, juice only
4 scallop shells for presentation (optional)
Mix the celeriac and apple julienne with the lemon juice and a little seasoning in a small bowl. Cover and allow to soften and lightly pickle for about 30 minutes.
Heat a small saucepan to a medium-high temperature. Add a little oil and fry the bacon for 4-5 minutes, or until brown and crispy. Remove from the pan with a slotted spoon. Spoon the butter into the same pan and turn the heat up slightly. When the butter turns a light brown colour, remove from the heat and stir in the lemon juice and a little pepper. Tip the bacon back into the butter and keep warm.
Pour a generous amount of oil into a non-stick frying pan and set on a high heat. Pat the scallops and corals dry and season well all over. Sear both parts for 1 ½ minutes on each side, adding the butter with about a minute to go and basting everything well.
Spoon a quarter of the celeriac and apple mixture into the bottom of each scallop shell. Place a scallop and coral on top and pour over a little of the bacon butter. Scatter over some tarragon leaves and a squeeze of lemon.
One of the biggest things that I get out of cooking is how much happiness and joy it can inspire in others. The look on someone’s face when you unveil that birthday cake, walk to the table with a heaped platter or present an intricate and intriguing plate can make hours of effort instantly worthwhile. It’s funny how growing up a bit changes you; where I used to yearn for a night in the pub, now what I look forward to the most are a few hours entertaining close friends and family with good food and a bottle or two. We’ve had some great evenings this summer, sitting on the balcony in the balmy summer twilight to the sound of chatter and cutlery contacting china. But as much as I enjoy these occasions, when it comes to washing up I often am left feeling that I should have managed the food a little differently. I find it hard to strike the balance between cooking something good, but something that is also manageable to prepare without leaving poor Katie to hold court on her own. Time and time again I also find myself remembering how much easier everything is to cook last minute without the four glasses of wine just consumed. But sometimes it’s purely that I take the food far too seriously. My mind goes adrift trying to impress and indulge, when really the eating should just be the background conduit, the platform for everything else. Rarely does great food and crap company cement as a memorable evening.
Bitter experience and awkward delays have taught me the most obvious of things, that forward planning and preparation is everything when hosting dinner. Fundamentally I am clumsy and forgetful, and this is a deadly combination when wine is involved. I will and do forget about half of the ingredients painfully sourced out for the main course. Washing up, that bunch of flowers and empty drink bottles will all be sitting on that chopping board I need to use. Everything takes half an hour longer, and I end up looking so flustered at the point of serving that everyone’s appetite has sufficiently waned. Food is cold and my imagined precision plating is replaced with some Jackson Pollock slapdashery. So the least amount of time flapping around in my ever-shrinking kitchen the better.
And this gnocchi dish is perfect for avoiding such calamities, and one of the few occasions that I sat down and thought “I’ve nailed this”. In that wonderful way that is so synonymous with Italian cooking, most of this dish is down to great ingredients prepared simply and put on a plate. Everything can be made ahead of serving, leaving the quick task of poaching the gnocchi, finishing off in the pan and plate assembling all that you need to do. Perfectly easy even when half-cut. You can even serve it in a bowl if you want to further avoid plate tippage when transporting to your guests, who will frankly be gobsmacked that you are back so quickly.
If you are making the gnocchi in advance, the only extra step to take is to blanche them for a minute or so at the time of shaping, before shocking in cold water and draining. Then cover and refrigerate for up to a couple of days before boiling again and eating.
Serves 4
Ingredients:
For the butternut squash:
1 medium butternut squash, halved lengthways with the seeds removed
1 large Maris Piper or King Edward potato
3 sprigs of rosemary, leaves picked and finely chopped
1 tbsp smoked sweet paprika
1 tsp dried oregano
1 tsp dried chilli flakes
2 garlic cloves, finely chopped
1 lemon, zest only
Olive oil
For the gnocchi:
1 egg, beaten
3 tbsp parmesan, finely grated
1 lemon, zest only
Italian ‘00’ grade flour, enough to bind and dust (approx. 200-300g)
For the infused oil:
2 garlic cloves, finely chopped
1 tsp dried chilli flakes
2 sprigs rosemary, finely chopped
3 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
½ a lemon, juice only
For the sage leaves:
12 large sage leaves
Vegetable oil for frying
To finish:
1-1 ½ large balls of good buffalo mozzarella, torn into 12 pieces
12 slices of lardo
1 lemon, zest only
1 tsp dried chilli flakes (optional)
2 tbsp parmesan, finely grated
Preheat the oven to 190⁰C.
First make the spice mix for the butternut squash. Put the rosemary, oregano, garlic, lemon zest, paprika, chilli and a good amount of seasoning into a small bowl. Pour in enough olive oil to create a paste and combine well. Put the halves of butternut squash on a baking tray and slather with the mixture, then bake, along with the potato, for about 1 – 1 ½ hours until both are soft and tender.
While the vegetables are cooking, make the crispy sage leaves. Pour the vegetable oil into a small, high-sided frying pan until it is about 1cm deep, and put on a high temperature. When hot, fry the sage leaves in small batches for 30 seconds to a minute, or until crisp. Remove and drain on some kitchen roll and set aside.
Bring a large saucepan of salted water to the boil.
While the squash and potato are still hot, scoop out the middles with a spoon and pass through a sieve into a large bowl. Add the parmesan, lemon zest and beaten egg and fold to combine. Next fold in the flour, a heaped tablespoon at a time, until the mash comes together to form a soft dough that is only just workable. Sprinkle some extra flour onto a work surface and take a small handful of the dough. Carefully roll out into a thin sausage, then cut into 2-3cm cylinders using a sharp knife. Roll each gently in your hands to shape, using a fork or slotted board to shape if you like. Repeat until you have made 32 pieces of gnocchi.
Put a large, non-stick frying pan on a medium-high heat.
Carefully tip the gnocchi into the boiling water and cook until they have popped to the surface, about 3-4 minutes. Do this in two batches if your saucepan is not large enough to comfortably hold all the gnocchi at once.
While the gnocchi is boiling, add the extra virgin olive oil to the frying pan and cook the garlic, rosemary and chilli for one minute. As the gnocchi pop to the surface of the boiling water, transfer them to the frying pan with a slotted spoon. Fry for a minute or two until slightly coloured, seasoning well and squeezing over the lemon juice.
To serve, scatter 8 pieces of gnocchi onto each plate. Dot pieces of the mozzarella, slices of lardo and sage leaves in-between and around, then spoon over some of the oil from the pan. Finish by grating over some lemon zest and parmesan and sprinkling on more chilli flakes and cracked black pepper.
