Lamb’s neck fillet with gnudi, fresh peas and olive crumb

After writing reviews for the last couple of posts, it feels good to finally have got some cooking done again. Although I love having chilled out days off, I also love filling them experimenting with new things. Over the past few weeks I have been really getting into Italian cooking, having watched Simon Hopkinson and Theo Randall on the television and bought the River Cafe cookbooks. I just love the attitude to food that this type of cooking has, where it’s all about the flavours and quality of ingredients. Some of my best food memories are tucking into a bowl of pasta or a big rustic salad, so I’m excited to discover more!

It was whilst watching Simon Hopkinson that I found out about gnudi. These are small ricotta dumplings that are gently poached to form little hot cheesy domes. What more could you want! I was desperate to try these out, and thought that they would work perfectly in this dish. Ricotta is naturally quite a bland cheese that needs flavouring, and it balances the strong olive crumb and lamb sauce in this dish with it’s lightness. Although you have to make them the day before cooking, they only take 10 minutes and are really easy. They would be perfect for making in bulk when cooking for numbers, and only need minutes to finish on the day. I will definitely be trying out other recipes with them in the future. 

With Italian cooking in particular, the food is mostly really simple, placing emphasis on choosing the best quality ingredients possible. With things like mozzarella, olive oils and in this case, ricotta, there is a stark difference in taste from the cheap produce found in the supermarkets to what you can get from specialist shops and delis. To source my ricotta I went to my local cheese mecca, La Fromagerie in Highbury. I rarely need an excuse to visit and smell that intense waft as you walk through the door, and on this occasion they failed to disappoint. I got home with a ricotta with much better flavour, and important to this recipe, texture. The stuff you find in supermarkets seem to be on the wetter side, which will make it much more difficult when rolling the gnudi. 

Lamb neck fillet might not be top of everyone’s list when thinking of cuts to use, but it packs a lovely flavour and is quite reasonably priced. Ignore the slow cooking advice given on the internet and cook it quickly for a pink centre, which will give tender and succulent results. As is important with cooking most meats, allow time to rest properly. This will also give you time to finish all of the other elements to the dish before plating up. When buying the meat, ask your butcher for any lamb bones and trim. They will make your sauce so much better and won’t cost very much.

The use of charlock flowers might seem a bit weird or unnecessary, but they add to the dish both visually and with their subtle, mustardy taste. I came across them by accident at the Stoke Newington farmers market at the weekend, but if you can’t get hold of them then peashoots alone will be fine.

Serves 2

Ingredients:

For the lamb:

2 lamb’s neck fillets, excess fat removed

1 tbsp olive oil

30g butter

Salt and pepper

For the gnudi:

200g good ricotta

30g parmesan, finely grated

2 tbsp fresh mint leaves, finely chopped

2 tbsp fresh parsley leaves, finely chopped

1/2 lemon, zest only

Salt and pepper

Semolina, for dusting

For the sauce:

200g-300g lamb bones and trim, cut into small pieces

2 shallots, finely chopped

2 garlic cloves, peeled but kept whole

10 sprigs thyme

1 large glass dry white wine

500g lamb stock

30g butter

Salt and pepper

Olive oil

For the olives:

100g good black olives, stones removed

For the peas:

2 handfuls fresh peas, podded and shelled

30g butter

Salt and pepper

For the crispy mint leaves:

12 mint leaves

4 tbsp vegetable oil

To garnish:

Peashoots

Extra virgin olive oil

Charlock flowers

Make the gnudi 24 hours before needed. Mix the ricotta with the parmesan, herbs and lemon zest in a bowl and taste. Add seasoning if needed. Pour a good layer of semolina into a shallow tray. Carefully roll small balls out of the ricotta mixture that are slightly larger than a raspberry, then place them in the tray and dust with the semolina. Repeat until the mixture is rolled, then cover and put in the fridge. 

Also cook the olives in advance. Set to oven to 80ºC and scatter the pitted olives on a greaseproof lined oven tray. Put in the oven for 8-10 hours, or until dried through. When ready, blitz in a food processor until a fine crumb. Set aside until needed. 

To make the sauce, take the bones and trim out of the fridge and allow to come to room temperature. Heat up a large skillet pan to a hot temperature and add a little oil. Season the bones and sear all sides until very well browned. Turn the pan down slightly and add the shallot, garlic and thyme and fry again until coloured. Turn the heat back up and add the white wine, and allow to bubble and reduce by half. Pour in the lamb stock and slowly reduce until the sauce is thickened and about 150ml is left. Strain through a fine sieve into a small saucepan, cover and set aside for finishing later.

While the sauce is cooking, pod and shell the peas.

Heat up a small pan with the vegetable oil for the mint leaves. When hot, quickly fry the mint leaves for about 30 seconds, turning occasionally, then remove carefully and drain on kitchen paper. Set aside until later. 

Take the lamb out of the fridge to come to room temperature.

Fill a medium saucepan with well salted water and bring to the boil. When it is nearly boiling, heat up a dry large non-stick pan to a high heat for the lamb.

To cook the lamb, season on all sides and rub well with oil. When the pan is hot place the lamb in the pan and cook quickly on all sides until well browned. When the lamb is coloured, add the butter to the pan and baste. Carefully control the temperature of the pan to not burn the lamb, and keep touching the meat to tell how well it is cooked as you would when cooking steak. After about 5 minutes the lamb should be cooked, remove from the pan onto a board and allow to rest for another 5 minutes. Once rested, slice into thin rounds.

While the lamb is resting gently reheat the sauce and stir in the butter. Taste and season if needed. 

At the same time cook the gnudi in the boiling water. Carefully shake off any excess semolina and drop into the pan. Turn the heat down to a gentler boil and poach for 4-5 minutes, until they float to the surface. Remove with a slotted spoon onto a warm plate and keep warm until you plate up. 

Also cook the peas. Add the butter to the same pan as the lamb was cooked in with 2 tbsp water. When melted pour in the peas and cook for a minute or two on a medium heat until tender. 

Dress the peashoots in a small bowl with a little extra virgin olive oil. 

To plate up, arrange slices of the lamb onto the plate and put the gnudi amongst them. Spoon over some of the peas and them a good amount of sauce. Place the mint leaves, peashoots and charlock flowers around the edge of the meat and sprinkle over a good pinch of the olive crumb.

Restaurant review: The Social Eating House, Soho

Lunch service can be the best way to sample the food at top restaurants without having to pay an arm and a leg. Set menus sometimes have the reputation of dragging up the scrag ends of the kitchen, but in the better restaurants you can get amazing value for money. This was recently highlighted by seasoned blogger The Critical Couple, who compiled a review of seven places offering special lunch deals. It showed a mixed bag of results, but by far the restaurant that jumped out at me was The Social Eating House. This is Jason Atherton’s new venture in Soho after rave reviews for the Pollen Street Social and Little Social in Mayfair. I have long been a fan of Atherton’s cooking and attitude to food, but the really striking thing was the value for money. I needed little encouragement as it was, but at £21.00 for three courses it looked an absolute bargain. You could spend more than that in Cafe Rouge. Venue set, and a Saturday lunch date was booked. 

The day of the lunch was one of those sultry dreamy types just perfect for strolling around in town. Soho was crammed and buzzy with tourists, and the seediness had a few hours left before leaking out. The name Social Eating House implied an informality, yet we still didn’t quite know what to expect. The restaurant was about half full yet the small space still had a bustle about it and was welcoming, and interesting with the mirrored ceiling modern distressed walls. What was also noticeable was the total cross-section of diners. They were all there; Made In Chelsea in one corner, lad’s lunch over there, poshy date on the next table and the obligatory couple who hate each other at the end. She spent the whole meal on the phone. The man with the backwards cap and sunglasses meant that any notion of being underdressed was quickly dispelled.

Our waiter was kind, despite us feeling apprehensive about being the cheapskates ordering the set lunch and tap water. As is often the case, a glass of prosecco in and the nerves set to relax. Set menus in their very nature don’t offer much choice, but despite the few options it took some time to decide on our order. None of the items were what we would normally pick, with ox tongue, stone bass and lamb breast all billed. But I feel like these kind of restaurants are the places to jump out of comfort zones and try something new, so was excited to educate my palate. 

Jay Rayner and The Critical Couple both recommended the starting jars, in particular the salt cod brandade with parsley sauce and thick salt and vinegar crisps. The jar was just that, a jar, and in it again something I never tried before. But after a scoop of the smooth fish and herb sauce we were instant converts. The flavours were balanced perfectly, with the subtle cod standing up to the garnishes. There was just enough too, leaving a lovely taste yet enough room with three more courses to go. 

A beautiful plate of tongue. A sentence that I never thought I would write, yet what was put in front of me was just that. A thin slither topped with delicate pickled mushrooms, crouton and a sticky onion puree danced together and was visually stunning. Despite this I still managed to have food envy, as Katie’s starter was incredible. Pea, mint and ham soup - a trip back to the 80’s surely? Not in this case. A delicately poached hens egg sat daintily in the bottom of the bowl, surrounded by crushed peas and topped with shards of brittle, salty ham. The silky yet intense pea veloute was poured around and was just spectacular. This was no thick and clumsy soup, it was delicate, each taste pinging in your mouth. That one little bowl will remain in our minds for quite some time, and will always trump my homemade favourite.

The mains had a lot to live up to. Again my stone bass was stunning, and possibly the best way that I have seen cous cous presented. It was a true summer lunch dish; perfectly cooked fish, ripe tomatoes and pepper. It didn’t make the world move as much as the starters, but was delicious. Katie’s lamb breast with nicoise garnish fell apart at the mere suggestion of a fork and was rich and flavoursome. It is such an underrated cut of meat and certainly inspired me to give it a go at home. Two courses, and the best part of a bottle of prosecco down and we were (drunk) happy bunnies.

The dessert options caused me a few issues. I have a complicated nut allergy, meaning that some nuts are fine, but others are not so good. In the past I have been rather blase about it, but after a slight scare following my meal at Polpo the week before I thought it best to ask our waiter. In describing my needs I managed to confuse the poor man, but eventually it was determined that none of the options on the set menu were suitable. Instead I was kindly offered to select one from the a la carte menu, which I was extremely grateful for. That said, I was also jealous at the sound of Katie’s coconut and chocolate dessert which sounded divine. 

It looked it too, quenelles of sorbet, aerated chocolate and a translucent tuile were swiftly demolished without the slightest taste from me. However, this time it was my turn to be dealt the memorable dish. My jar, yes another jar, of homemade yoghurt topped with strawberries cooked a number of different ways was frankly incredible. Granita, sorbet, poached and jellied all gave a different sensation. The sheer amount of strawberry flavour that the chef had managed to extract was ridiculous. I’m not normally a dessert person, but I would happily eat that again and again, and would return just for that. 

The table next to us had managed to consume an impressive amount of cocktails during their meal, each one housed in a different ornate or intriguing glass. So we though it rude to not have one before our departure. The drinks menu had fun, if not slightly cringe-worthy names, and it felt slightly embarrassing to ask for two ‘dill or no dills’, but they lived up to their appearance and were seriously good. Often cocktails can seem too sharp or alcohol heavy, but these were a joy to drink. 

We stumbled out into the busy hazy Soho Streets with that funny amazement that you get when leaving the cinema and discovering that it is still light outside. But we were also amazed at the food we had just eaten, especially considering the value. The skill of the chef is to use humble ingredients and make them sing, and this had been a masterclass. Simple pea soup, old-fashioned tongue and forgotten pieces of lamb all the polar opposite. Certainly another astounding success in the making for the Jason Atherton team, and I look forward to visiting his other restaurants for food that good.

Restaurant review: Polpo, Covent Garden

Since moving to London I have often asked for recommendations on places to go when in town, and Polpo has always come out near the top. So when planning my dad’s birthday recently with my sister, as soon as dinner there was mentioned we knew we were onto a winner. Dad always gets given cookbooks, but he was particularly pleased when he unwrapped the Polpo one at Christmas. Brimming with beautiful plates of Venetian tapas I had full on book envy, and knew that he would love the real thing as a birthday treat. 

Over the past few years the Polpo empire has expanded with a number of sites in central London, and has become a true dining institution. You cannot look at Twitter for five minutes without someone raving about. Like many of the trendy new ventures in town, Polpo operates a no-booking policy, and I was wary as to whether five of us would be sat at all. Would we end up in sad looking chain full of disappointment. This wasn’t a million miles away. Greeted by a large queue and long wait at the Soho branch, my heart sank. However, I was quickly informed that the next, and bigger branch was just a short hop away in Covent Garden, so we set off with haste. Often in these situations you feel like every other member of the public is heading to the same place, and this was no different as I set about racing shoppers and barging small children to try and avert a repeat performance. 

There was another queue. Of course there was. But there was also a pub opposite, and a 45 minute wait over a pint didn’t seem like the worst option. Even after the brief doorway impressions I was excited; the dimly lit, beautifully rustic room was heaving, and carried a buzz radiating off every table. The menu reflected this, the sort where you could easily order every item. I couldn’t wait to get in. 

Prosecco, arancini, scallops and peas, the dishes were empty moments after getting to the table. Light, delicate and bursting with flavour. Dad’s a good cook, and every meal gets the critique to the standard of his home fare, but here him and mum were relaxed, happy, overwhelmed. Food, drink and service flowed in harmony as we recalled stories of Venice holidays, fish markets and ripe tomatoes. Beautifully refreshing mozzarella with new season broad beans and perfectly crisp light fritto misto followed, and were downed with as much gusto. 

Tapas is a funny thing. Some love the mouthful of everything that you get, whilst I am in the opposite camp. I am the Chinese takeaway stick in the mud. I like my choice and will pick something that I want to eat. All of it. So I was hesitant at the thought of five of us sitting round scrimping from the small plates. I was surprised. Despite the numbers, each plate provided a good amount, even room for second helpings. My sister is a vegetarian, but unlike the lazy afterthoughts seen at other restaurants her choices were fought over. The simple sounding spinach, parmesan and soft egg pizzette was one of the tastiest things I have eaten in a while, packing a real depth of flavour from such humble ingredients. 

The big guns emerged in the third round, charred soft lamb and spiked caponata and the real star calves liver. I never order liver, but something swung me that evening and it was just amazing. Tender, deep and unctuous. Just delicious. I was a convert, and vowed to get blogging with some recipes of my own. 

There was just room for a couple of desserts, a fragrant moist almond cake and a dinky cup of foamy tirimisu. We were plump, rosy cheeked and satisfied. 

AA Gill wrote last year about the emergence of restaurants serving food that 30 years ago would have been cooked at home. He said this disparagingly, but I think that this can be a celebration in some scenarios. At Polpo the food was great. It didn’t blow me away with technique or new flavours, it just tasted really good. The rustic presentation and setting gave the meal that homely family gathering feel, and in this situation it was perfect. I would rather this than sitting in a mindnumbingly dated Michelin hotel restaurant any day. 

There was one thing that I hated though, and it wasn’t the food. It was the music. I understand that it’s trendy and young, but I never want to be having a lovely meal to suddenly hear Catatonia booming from the walls. Justin Timberlake followed. It just threw me. Where did this all fit in with authentic Venetian food and an intimate atmosphere. This all got gently louder towards the end, and just didn’t really have a place. If the cleaners were rearing to get going and wanted to clear the place then I applaud the tactics. 

But that was all. If you are into dodgy 90s music and good food then this will be heaven. If you are into good food then this will be heaven. Just hum loudly.

Porterhouse of Dexter beef with bearnaise sauce, Jersey Royal potatoes and greens

After cooking loads of fish recently, it is definitely time that I tackled a piece of meat. I was inspired recently by reading an excellent article by Jay Rayner about his favourite eating experiences. His choices ranged from dining at el Bulli and the St John to more personal meals such as crab on the beach and a big piece of steak at home with his wife. It was this last example that hit a chord with me, and got me thinking about the best things that I have eaten. Holidays scoffing carpaccio in tucked away Venetian restaurants and fresh seafood off a Cornish campfire sprung to mind, but certainly the best thing that I have eaten recently was chomping through a steak as big as my head at Hawksmoor in February.

So beef it was, and instead of buying a standard ribeye, I wanted to try something a little more special. One of the greatest meals that Katie and I never had was when we paced the streets of Florence a few years ago, frantically looking for somewhere decent that would offer us one of it’s famed slabs of t-bone. After hours of searching we got impatient in the humidity, and settled in a rubbish tourist restaurant for rubbery gnocchi and tough veal. I’ve been keen to settle that one ever since. Still, I was slightly hesitant about ordering a porterhouse (which has more fillet attached than a t-bone), as frankly it is an expensive piece of meat and I wanted to do it justice. I have cooked conventional steaks loads of times but my experience of cooking larger joints of meat is quite limited, so I would have to be very careful.

Cuts of meat such as t-bone, porterhouse or even bone-in ribs or sirloin are only really available from good independent butchers. I am lucky enough to have some great ones a cycle ride away, but last week I was really short on time, and there was no way that I would get the chance to visit my favourite Ginger Pig. Whilst researching cuts of meat I stumbled upon the website for the East London Steak Co, which instantly impressed with easy functionality and a great selection of produce. I would never normally order meat or fish online, as I like to see the quality before buying and I try and support local supplier as much as possible, but thought that I would give it a go. I have to say that the service and quality were excellent, and I was very happy with what I received. If I ever need meat at short notice and can’t make it to the shops then I would definitely buy from them again. 

The only surprise that occurred from ordering online was that when the meat was delivered, I discovered that the cattle breed was Dexter. Dexter cows are much smaller than average, and as a result my 1kg porterhouse was much smaller and thicker than I was expecting. I was happy with this though, as Dexter meat is considered to have great flavour and tenderness, so was excited about trying it. My only concern was that my initial cooking timings would be thrown with this much thicker piece of meat. 

After a lot of prodding and checking during the cooking process, I was extremely pleased with the results. The sirloin side was perfectly cooked for me, pink and tender all the way through without being raw. I have to say that the fillet was a little overcooked, and only slightly pink. But I’m not sure if cooking the two parts evenly is all that possible given the tiny size of the fillet, but it was still very tender and juicy. The flavour of the meat was extraordinary, and I only have the quality, aging and hanging of the meat to thank for that.

Pairing the steak with simple Jersey Royals and greens complimented the flavour of the meat perfectly, and turned it into a complete meal. Albeit a very meat heavy one. Jersey Royals and broad beans are bang in season right now and should be made the most of.

Serves 2 very hungry people

For the beef:

1 x 1kg dexter porterhouse steak

10 sprigs fresh rosemary

10 sprigs fresh thyme

5 garlic cloves

Olive oil

Salt and pepper

For the bearnaise sauce:

4 egg yolks

1 small banana shallot, very finely chopped

4 tbsp tarragon, chopped

3 tbsp white wine vinegar

250ml clarified butter

1/2 lemon, juice only

3 tbsp cold water

Salt and pepper

For the Jersey Royals:

12 small jersey royal potatoes, washed and scrubbed lightly

50g butter

1 garlic clove, sliced

2 tbsp tarragon leaves

Olive oil

Salt and pepper

For the greens:

1 large handful broad beans, podded and shelled

250g baby spinach leaves

50g butter

2 anchovy fillets, finely chopped

1 clove of garlic, finely chopped

1 tbsp thyme leaves

Olive oil

Salt and pepper

Take the steak out of the fridge a couple of hours before cooking to allow it to get to room temperature. 

Next make the bearnaise sauce. Pour the white wine vinegar into a small saucepan with three quarters of the tarragon, some seasoning and the chopped shallot. Reduce by half over a low heat then take off the heat and allow to cool. If clarifying your own butter then do this at this point too and cool slightly. When the reduction is cool add the egg yolks and whisk well. Return to a very low heat and carry on whisking continuously and making sure that the mixture doesn’t get hot enough the scramble. After about 10 minutes the eggs will have emulsified with the reduction and formed a thick frothy texture. Take off the heat and very slowly add the butter, whisking still until all the butter has been incorporated into the sauce. Pass through a sieve then add the remaining tarragon and taste. Squeeze in the lemon and season if necessary. Cover and set aside.

For the Jersey Royals, put the washed potatoes into a medium saucepan and cover well with cold water and a good pinch of salt. Bring to the boil and cook for 15-20 minutes, or until tender. Drain and plunge into a bowl of very cold water to stop the cooking. Drain again and set aside to finish at the end. 

Heat the oven to 200ºC.

While the oven is heating up make the flavoured butter for the greens. Mix the butter with the chopped anchovies, garlic, thyme and seasoning until fully incorporated.

When the oven is hot heat up a heavy griddle on a very high heat until smoking. Season the steak well and rub with a little oil. When the pan is really hot, put the steak fat side down in the pan to render for a minute, then sear on all sides until well coloured. Transfer to an ovenproof dish with the rosemary and thyme and put into the oven. Turn the oven down immediately to 180ºC, and cook the meat for about 30-35 minutes. Use a thermometer to check the middle, which will be 58ºC for medium-rare. Take the meat out of the oven and allow to rest in a warm place for at least 15 minutes.

While the meat is resting, heat up two large saucepans to a medium heat. 

In one pan, melt the butter with a little olive oil for the potatoes. When hot, add the sliced garlic and cook for a minute or two. Add the potatoes, season well and toss in the butter and garlic to cover. Cook for about 5 minutes, then finish with the tarragon leaves. 

Cook the greens in the other pan. Melt the anchovy butter and 2 tbsp of water and add the broad beans. Cook for a couple of minutes then tip in the spinach. Stir well until the leaves have just wilted, then taste and season. 

Transfer the potatoes, greens and bearnaise into serving bowls. To serve the meat, take the sirloin and fillet off the bone and slice thickly. Pour over the cooking juices, season and transfer to a board and tuck in. 

Pan roasted black bream with crab, confit fennel, asparagus, clams and sea purslane

As I wrote a couple of posts ago, I have recently been pretty obsessed with cooking fish. I tend to do this with food; I will go through stages of really concentrating on one group of ingredients, or method of cooking and will use it in lots of things that I make. Previously it has been adding breaded, deep fried things (see cod cheeks, pork cheeks and oysters in the last few months), or asparagus which I can’t get enough of at the moment. The fact that the very short British asparagus season is in full swing, and combines with fish so beautifully means that they take high priority on the menu. And simply both ingredients are delicious and I take great pleasure in eating them.

This dish came about in a bit of an accidental way. The ingredients and concept are classic enough, but the finished meal was not really what I intended when I started thinking of what to cook. For the last few weeks I have had some wacky idea in my head about curing an oily fish, initially sardine fillets, in rhubarb to create a fresh tasting, vibrantly pink element to a dish which also included some chargrilled fillets for contrast. I imagined that it would produce a lovely looking little salad, and couldn’t wait to get experimenting with it. Flaw in my plan no.1: when I enquired to my local fishmonger about sardines, I was told that they were ‘pretty scarce’ at the moment. That was the sardine thought grounded, but fair enough I would use the trusty mackerel instead. So off I went to the fishmongers on Sunday, and as my luck would further have it, a good weekend had seen them cleared right out of mackerel. Bugger. 

I’m rubbish at creating quick, inventive things to cook on the spot, so I felt really thrown at that point and a little panicked that I was just going to buy a load of random things that wouldn’t come together. This is where the joy of a local, independent fishmonger came in. After a quick chat, it was decided that black bream is really in season, and would work perfectly with the ingredients that I planned to use. They are pretty mad looking fish, with big heads and dark silvery flanks, but fillets that you get from them are amazing, very similar to seabass. Along with the clams and purslane that I also bought, to my delight I was also given a bag of freshly picked white crab meat. Menu sorted I left a happy bunny (apart from the flat tyre I got on the way home...). Thanks a lot to the excellent as always Jonathan Norris in Victoria Park village. 

This dish is pretty simple to put together, with the only time consuming thing being the fennel confit. Once this is made everything else can be prepared and cooked quickly. Cooking fish is something that takes experience, as it only takes a minute or two to overcook and ruin, but with a little practice it’s dead simple. The key is to make sure that the pan is hot before you add the fish, and that you cook it skin side down for the majority of the time.   

Serves 2

Ingredients:

For the bream:

1 black bream (or gilthead will be fine), filleted and pinboned

Salt and pepper

Olive oil

1 tbsp butter

1/2 lemon, juice only

For the confit fennel: 

2 bulbs fennel, finely sliced, fronds kept for garnish

600ml olive oil, or enough to just cover the fennel

2 bulbs garlic, whole

150g white crab meat

1 lemon, juice only

Salt and pepper

For the asparagus puree:

8 asparagus stalks, heads removed and kept for pickling

30g butter

1/2 lemon, juice only

Salt and pepper

For the pickled asparagus:

The heads of the 8 asparagus

200ml white wine vinegar

3 tbsp caster sugar

6 black peppercorns

For the clams:

1 small handful clams

1 glass white wine

For the samphire:

1 small handful samphire, rinsed

1 tbsp butter

Squeeze of lemon juice

Salt and pepper

To finish:

1 small handful sea purslane, rinsed

Fronds from the fennel

To make the confit fennel, put the sliced fennel and whole garlic in a medium-sized saucepan and cover with the olive oil. Cover the top of the oil with a cartouche and set on a low heat for 35-45 minutes, or until very tender. Drain well, discard the garlic and set aside. 

Take the prepared bream and crab out of the fridge and allow to get to room temperature. If the fillets are big then cut into two neat pieces. 

For the puree, fill a medium saucepan with salted water and bring to the boil. When boiling, add the asparagus stalks and boil for 3-4 minutes or until tender. Drain and transfer to a food processor with the butter, lemon and seasoning. Blitz well, then taste and adjust if needed. Set aside in a warm place.

To pickle the asparagus tips, put the sugar, white wine vinegar and peppercorns in a small saucepan and bring to the boil. When the sugar has dissolved, put the asparagus into a small bowl and cover with the pickling liquid. Set aside.

Put the cooked fennel into a saucepan and gently warm up on a medium-low heat. Season well and squeeze over the lemon juice. Keep heating through as you finish the other elements of the dish.

Heat a large non-stick frying pan to a medium-high heat and add a good glug of olive oil, 2-3 tablespoons. 

While the pan is getting hot, put another small pan on a medium heat and melt the butter for the samphire. When melted, add the rinsed samphire and seasoning and cook for a minute or two until just al dente. Squeeze over the lemon and keep warm. 

Also put a small saucepan on a medium-high heat for the clams. When hot, pour in the clams and add the white wine, which should bubble straight away. Put a lid tightly over and shake the pan a couple of times. Cook for a minute or two until the shells open. Remove the clams into a bowl, and pour the white wine liquor into the fennel saucepan along with the white crabmeat. Mix well and taste, adjusting seasoning and acidity. Cook for another minute and take off the heat. 

When the frying pan is hot, season the bream fillets all over and gently place skin side down, holding them flat to the pan with your fingers for a couple of seconds to stop them curling up. Cook for 2-3 minutes on the skin side only, and while this is happening baste the flesh side with the hot oil, running the back of the metal spool down each fillet. This will gently cook that side too without the need to flip the fish. After 3 minutes the skin should be crispy, add the butter and lemon and remove from the heat while you plate up. 

Spoon a good tablespoon of the asparagus puree onto the middle of each plate, then lay some of the confit fennel on top. Place the cooked bream onto the fennel, then place the clams, pickled asparagus, samphire, purslane and fennel fronds around the edges. Squeeze over a touch more lemon and serve.

Restaurant review: Caravan King’s Cross

I first stumbled across Caravan a few weeks ago when out for a drink with an old friend. Looming dramatically in the beautifully renovated Granary Building as you walk across the open rear of King’s Cross I was filled with excited anticipation. Hype and rave reviews sprawled across the internet suggested that this was the place to visit, and I couldn’t wait to sneak a peak. I was not disappointed; the space inside was wonderful. A big room transformed into an intimate, electric atmosphere with an open kitchen and working coffee roaster. It was Tuesday and packed, noise loud from chatter and an hour wait for tables. We decided not to wait on this occasion but I was taken, and instantly booked a table for Katie and I for a week later. 

I spent that week raving about this new place behind King’s Cross to anyone who would listen for long enough, and counted down the days until finally Saturday night came. Kate and I have had the fortune of eating at some great restaurants recently, and I couldn’t wait to show her this new place that I had discovered. 

But when I opened the door this time something was different. Things seemed brighter, quieter and far less of a bustle, and instead of competing with talk circulating the room we were conscious of sharing our conversation with the table an elbow away. This was a minor thing really, and we were soon salivating over the menu. And it was an impressive list, the sort where you wanted to eat everything. I instantly knew that I would be jealous of whatever Katie chose, so we decided to share. The menu was split into a number of options, from picky bits, small plates, mains and pizzas, and reasonably priced too. We went for a couple of starters followed by the lamb gnocchi for Katie and a pizza for me. 

Those first two plates were a joy. One held a large dollop of creamy burrata, vibrant with pesto and crumbed olive, and the other slabs of jalapeno cornbread with a chilli butter. Two things unlikely to be found together on a menu anywhere else, but the flavours were terrific and portions just right. Our snug table neighbours saw this and ordered the same. First course in and very impressed. 

I really wish that we had have just ordered more of the small plates and left it at that, as our mains were a different story. I don’t really have much to report about the serrano ham, jalapeno and Taleggio pizza. Admittedly a meat and chilli pizza is a far from inspired order, but a good pizza is a thing of beauty, and I could have stopped off at half a dozen understated Italian restaurants between Stoke Newington and Kings Cross and got something so much better. There was nothing offensive with this pizza, it was just underwhelming. Fair enough it was £7.00, but I would much rather have paid double and had something a bit better executed. It came with a garnish plate with chillies, herbs and oils which was quite cool, but that pizza needed so much more than that to revive it.

Katie’s choice was a glorious looking bowl of gnocchi bound with sauce thickened with meltingly fall apart lamb and olives. As we were sharing I could not wait to wolf down half of my flaccid pizza and get stuck into that, but Katie had other ideas. It appeared that when reheating the sauce, it had been carelessly boiled to a temperature slightly lower than the surface of the sun. The only thing melting that she could taste was the skin on the top of her mouth. Thankfully it had cooled by the time my turn came around, and actually it was really lovely. It was that soft, rich, comforting taste that brings memories of old home cooked family meals and holidays abroad. The texture of the gnocchi itself though was unspectacular, and to be honest I expected more; light little pillows instead of heavy and stodgy. A little critical, but when you go to places with such hype you expect something above average. 

We skipped dessert and went straight for the coffee, and thankfully this failed to disappoint. We were both in agreement that the flat whites were superb, and it was great to sit in the same room where the beans had been roasted. 

We left with the distinct feeling that we had ordered the wrong things, and that we should have just stuck to a wider selection of the small plates that had provided such a good start.  But the experience as a whole is what makes eating out it’s best. I was left slightly fed up of how trendiness was becoming bigger than the thing itself. Some of the food was good yes, but the service throughout the evening had that tinge of glazed smugness to it, like we were just another number walking through the door. We asked for a minute when deciding what to order, and the impatience was clearly visible. The minimal storage layout also slightly irked me; it can be very beautiful having everything on open shelves, but in all honestly I don’t want to know where you store your blue roll. The sign of a really good meal is that you never want it to end, for that last mouthful to keep on going. In this case I wasn’t particularly bothered, and wanted to see what the rest of the evening had in store (half-cut Boris bikes to ice cream cones in Camden proved far more entertaining). 

I think that Caravan would be great for an afterwork drink and snack, or for a quick lunch. But as a full dinner experience it didn’t really cut it for me. Caravan could be brilliant, but it needs to look again at creating a harmonious experience for the customer.

Crab risotto with basil oil, brown meat mayonnaise and tomatoes

It surprises me that it’s taken just over a year for me to post a risotto recipe. Now that the days are longer and it’s a bit warmer, a bowl of light risotto is a perfect midweek dinner to have sat on the balcony in the evening sun. The joy of risottos are they can be as simple or complicated as you want them to be, and they are often a saviour when you need to make a meal out of the scant remnants in the fridge. They were one of the first things that I learned to cook post university, when it wasn’t considered acceptable to live on a diet of lasagne and poorly cooked steaks. My dad also makes a mean risotto, usually the centrepiece of a big family gathering and usually using vegetables that he has pulled from the ground that very day. Good times and full stomachs. 

For this recipe I have returned to an old favourite, crab. These early summer evenings just cry out for a fresh piece of seafood, and I fear that it may be weeks before I’m lusting over a piece of red meat again. My mind has sprung to life with recipes that make the most of light, delicate fish and zingy citrus and herbs. I was particularly inspired by the idea of a crab risotto because I saw it made on Masterchef during the finals this week. On that occasion, the cook made a real mess of it, but in my head it lit a spark and from then I craved it. Luckily, I work just across the road from a good fishmongers so was able to pop over and get my hands on a crustacean that was perfect for the job. Risottos are normally associated with stodgy cold weather meals, but with crab, lemon and basil flavours running through it’s much lighter. I used very similar ingredients in my crab and scallop ravioli recipe that I posted last year and I couldn’t help using them again; they complement the crab perfectly without overpowering. The dish still tastes distinctly crabby - the worst thing you can do to crab or any other shellfish is mask the taste with heavy flavourings. 

To someone who has never worked with crab, especially live ones, they can seem really daunting. However, there is a mine of online information about how to prepare one yourself, with videos and photos to make the directions easier to follow. The best thing to do is just get stuck in and learn as you go along. Once you’ve prepared a couple it gets loads quicker and are even dead easy for midweek after work suppers. Sourcing your crab is important. Always try and buy them live or freshly cooked from a local fishmongers, as they will taste way better and fresher than any supermarket bought alternatives. 

Serves 2

Ingredients:

1 crab, cooked with brown and white meat removed and kept separate

For the stock:

2 fennel bulbs, sliced

2 shallots, sliced

2 garlic cloves, sliced

1/2 red chilli, sliced

4 tomatoes, roughly chopped

1 tsp smoked paprika

A small pinch of saffron

1 litre light chicken stock

1/2 glass dry white wine

Legs and claw shells from the leftover crab

Salt and pepper

For the risotto:

1 shallot, finely sliced

Splash of brandy

5/6 of a mug of arborio risotto rice

The white meat from the crab

1 lemon, juice only

30g butter

Salt and pepper

For the brown meat mayonnaise:

The brown meat from the crab

1 egg yolk

Splash white wine vinegar

400ml vegetable oil

1/2 lemon, juice only

Salt and pepper

For the basil oil:

2 bunches basil

100ml olive oil

1/2 tsp caster sugar

Salt and pepper

For the tomatoes:

1 plum tomato

1 tbsp olive oil

1/2 tsp caster sugar

To finish:

Red amarinth leaves

First make the stock. Heat up a large saucepan with a little olive oil to a medium heat. When hot, add the crab and lightly caramelise on all sides. Chuck in the fennel, shallot, garlic, chilli, seasoning, saffron and smoked paprika and cook for a couple of minutes until everything starts to soften. Pour in the white wine and bring to the boil to cook out the alcohol. Add the chopped tomatoes and stir through for another minute before adding the hot chicken stock. Bring to the boil then turn down to a simmer and cook for around 20 minutes, until the stock is full of flavour and colour. Strain the liquid through a sieve into another saucepan and discard the shell and vegetables. Keep warm.

Heat up about a litre of lightly salted water in a small saucepan.

Whilst the stock is cooking make the basil oil. When the water is boiling quickly blanch the bunches of basil for about 20 seconds, then remove with a slotted spoon, keeping the same water for use later. Transfer the basil to a small food processor with the oil, sugar, salt and pepper and blitz well until very fine. Taste and adjust if needed. Strain through a fine sieve into a bowl or bottle and set aside. 

Also make the mayonnaise. Put the brown crabmeat into a high-sided bowl with the egg yolk, salt and pepper and white wine vinegar. Whisk well until frothy. Carry on whisking whilst very slowly adding the vegetable oil until all of it has been emulsified into a thick mayonnaise. Squeeze in a little of the lemon juice and taste. Adjust the seasoning if needed and pour into a bottle. Set aside. 

To prepare the tomato, score a cross into the bottom of it and put it in the water still boiling from the basil earlier. Boil for about a minute, then remove and plunge in a bowl of cold water. Pull the skins off, then slice segments of the flesh from around the edge. Discard the seeds from the middle. Cut the flesh of the tomatoes into 1/2cm squares and place into a small bowl. Dress with the olive oil and sugar and set aside.

Put a large frying pan or skillet onto a medium heat with a little olive oil. When hot, add the chopped shallot then season and fry for a couple of minutes until tender. Add the rice and cook for another minute or two, stirring to coat the grains. Pour in the brandy and allow to bubble away and cook out. Add a ladle of the hot stock and allow the rice to absorb the liquid before adding the next. Stir regularly. When the rice starts to get plumper and the starch has thickened the mixture, start tasting a grain every so often to judge the cooking. The rice is cooked when soft with a little bite remaining, and it should be wet enough to spread out once dolloped onto a plate. At this point stir in the white crabmeat, butter and lemon. Taste and adjust the seasoning if needed. 

To serve, spoon a good amount of the rice into the middle of a shallow bowl and shake to spread out evenly. Squeeze a few blobs of the mayonnaise evenly on top and place some of the tomato pieces around the middle. Scatter some of the amarinth leaves over the top and drizzle a little bit of the basil oil around the edge.