Wednesday, January 30, 2013

Roast pheasant




Japanese nabe hotpot: perfect winter food


hat can be better on a nippy winter evening than a hotpot steaming with the heart-warming aromas of  seafood, mushrooms and green vegetables. There is no recipe, really. You just get together with your friends or family and put all and sundry ingredients in a pot of boiling water, dunk them in a sauce of your choice and wash down with beer or sake.

Well, it's not really that random. First of all, you put a piece of kombu in the water to make aromatic broth. Then put ingredients starting from tougher to cook ones in approximately this order. First in go shiitake, carrots, daikon and bigger pieces of fish. I use chopped salmon heads, the abundant cartilege makes for a fantabulous depth of the soup's flavour. I am not a big fan of fish balls unless they are home-made. Next go green vegetables (hakusai/pakchoi, Savoy cabbage, Chinese broccoli, kailan), oyster mushrooms, shrimp, mussels, crab meat, squid, clams. Last follow the gentlest ones that only need to be warmed up: shimeji, konnyaku, bean sprouts, kikurage.

My favourite dip is mix of miso paste and mirin - Japanese style. Also great is mix of chili sauce, fish sauce, lime juice and pressed garlic - Thai style. Korean dip is gochujang, ground toasted sesame, pressed garlic and ground ginger. Vietnamese dip is lime juice, ground ginger, nuoc mam, chopped chillies and pal sugar. Chinese dip is soya sauce, Chinkiang vinegar, sesame oil and a sprikle of hot red pepper.

Once the last bits are fished out and devoured with thanks, beat an egg into the remaining broth and add harusame.  

 

Tuesday, January 15, 2013

Strada@London: new menu

 don't need really any particular luring to dine at Strada. That's where I go when I'm in the mood for consistently enjoyable no-nonsense Italian classics. So when I was offered to taste their new menu with whomever I cared to come with, I jumped at the opportunity. In return I was asked to write an honest review. So here's the breakdown:

The starter, large green Castelvetrano olives were meaty and flavourful but the portion was on the skimpy side.

Antipasti platter - Parma ham, Napoli salami, speck ham from Trentino, buffalo mozzarella from Campania, vine-ripened tomatoes, olive tapenade and bruschetta pomodoro - was nice, same as usual, not enough for three men though. We were not allowed to order more.

I never order a bruschetta for a starter, to me it's a glorified sandwich and so did it turn out: grilled bread with some chopped tomatoes on top.

Risotto is easily the most abused Italian dish. The opportunity was not missed this time either: boring and watery, risotto verdure tasted like buttery rice porridge. It reminded me of my worst vegetarian days.

Rigatoni speck with bits of ham and broccoli reminded me of the lunch fare in my short time at kindergarten. Über-meh.

Orata al forno, whole grilled sea bream though was sublime: very fresh tasting and cooked to perfection, with scrumptious crunchy skin with just a sprinkle of salt and thyme and delicate juicy flesh. A side of exquisitely steamed vegetables and boiled potatoes kept it good company.

The dolci were run-off-the-mill forgettable factory-made pistaccio ice-cream and chocolate mousse. Nothing horrible but nothing to write home about either. Just something you can buy frozen in Lidl.

Overall, I was not impressed with the new menu. As a paying customer I would only order the grilled fish. However, I will keep coming to Strada for my regular favourites. And also for cacciuco, a Sicilian fish soup that was new but not on the tasting menu.  

I thank Strada for the opportunity, however, for the next time I would advise them to put their best, not the mediocre, on their tasting menu. Perhaps, just what they serve daily anyway?

Monday, January 14, 2013

Monbazillac wine

his sweet and mellow wine, reminiscent of Muscat, goes well with mild cheese like Brillat Savarin.

Tuesday, January 8, 2013

Brillat Savarin cheese

ade from triple cream (that's 75% fat for you!), Brillat-Savarin was created in the 1930s to be as indulgent and over-the-top as the man it is named after, the great French gastronome. It is produced industrially from pasteurised milk and tastes like a cross between Carpice des Anges and unripe Brie. When matured, it is sold as Pierre Robert, which has much more character and reminds less of ricotta.

We paired it with sweet and mellow Montbazillac wine, a congratulatory pat on the shoulder.

Sunday, January 6, 2013

Bergerac Sec

rench wines can be hit or miss, never mind price or reputation. That is why I always go for Chilean when I need a shot of reliable white. A bit of risk-taking gets rewarded though, as was the case with this lovely Bergerac Sec: crystal-clear gooseberry and currant married with an after-hint of vanilla, la classe!

Monday, September 3, 2012

Tarhana soup recipe tarhana corbasi (Tarhana Çorbası)

Instant foods are not a recent invention. It was the Phoenicians who came up with couscous, a wheat micro pasta, handy to carry on long ship journeys and cook in no time with minimum effort. 

The amount of effort to prepare food that can be cooked instantly, however, can be staggering. Good Moroccan wives get up in the wee hours to go to market to buy ingredients to make couscous by hand that will be ready to eat for dinner in the evening.

Apparently, it takes about 10 days of daily kneading to make the dry flakes or granules for Turkish tarhana soup (Tarhana Çorbası).

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Black olives flavoured with sage, garlic and lemon rind

Turkish cuisine offers a slew of marvelous ingredients that in the loving hands of a Turkish mama turn into exquisitely heart-warming treats.

Take for example salted olives, provocatively called in French à la mode grecoise. Those are black olives in salt, full stop. On their own, they are definitely an acquired taste: a complex mix of tart and salty, rich in flavour, lacking in fragrance, and somewhat on the dry skinny side.  

Now the task is to imagine oneself a Turkish mater familiae and think how to bring out olives' strengths and make good for their weaknesses. This is my take.

I peel and slice thinly one head of garlic, part a lemon with its rind and crush a handful of dried sage. I fold all that into a 200 ml olive oil, shake well and mix with 1 kg black salted olives in a glass jar. Let stay in a cool place, NOT in the fridge, for a couple of days, to allow all the flavours to fuse. Serve with Turkish bread, grilled halloumi cheese, sliced ripe tomatoes and whatever Mediterranean dainties you can get hold of.


Tuesday, August 21, 2012

Yukhoe - Korean steak tartare (육회)

ho would think that eating chopped raw beef mixed with raw egg yolk on a bed of sliced pears would make for a great culinary experience? Well it did! It comes flavoured in that characteristically subtle Korean way, just underlining the natural goodness of the ingredients. I figured that it must be just sesame oil with a wee sprinkle of toasted white sesame. So, that's pretty much the recipe! Mas-issge deu seyo, enjoy your food!

Turkish manti soup recipe

Of course, it is mantı, not manti, the vowel harmony! I am always inspired by Turkish cuisine, it is such a potentially wondrous fare that somehow all too oft ends up very über-meh in most Turkish restaurants, even those catering the local clientèle in Turkey. I suspect that real Turkish food must be made by Turkish mama's loving hands for her family.

In the absence of such in my social circles, I have no choice but to be a Turkish mama to myself. So I venture northwards, to Finsbury, where round-the-clock Turkish grocers beacon with mouth-watering displays of ripe fruit and fragrant bread and then rows upon rows of roast pepper paste jars, bags of crackly bulgur, packs of salted olives and huge trays of syrupy sweets. Slurp.

A pack of thumbnail-sized ravioli, mantı, costs 1.39 quid. It's enough for three pots of delightfully tangy and zesty soup. I also insist that you invest in a jar of proper Turkish acı biber salçası, spicy pepper paste. Don't let the word spicy confuse you, this is nothing like Thai or Jamaican spiciness, more like Basque piment d'Espellete.

So here's for the recipe:

Slowly roast some crushed garlic in olive oil. Fold in a full spoon of tomato passata and a full spoon of acı biber salçası and fry a couple of minutes more. Add some dry mint and sea salt. Add a litre or so cold water and bring to a gentle boil. Add mantı and a tin of boiled chick peas. Remove from the fire after 5 min and serve with lemon juice and chopped coriander.


Stale bread pudding recipe

Baking has always been exclusively my parents' remit. My Mum churns out pies, buns, cakes and the like on a nearly daily basis and even my very male supremacist Dad is highly apt at making that king of doughs, leavened one.

I only have started baking recently, inspired by Nigella's voluptuous poetics in her How To Become a Domestic Goddess. This recipe is a slight improvement on her "pudding made from rich man's leftovers".

Beat 2 eggs, a generous glug of rhum, 250 ml double cream and 3 tbsp demerara sugar. Fold in half a chopped stale baguette and let soak for half an hour. Mix in a handful of raspberries and a handful of black chocolate chips. Put in a buttered porcelain tray, sprinkle with a little demerara sugar and bake 40 min at 170 degrees.

Serve on your boyfriend's bubble butt.

Saturday, March 17, 2012

Puy lentils and Montbeliard sausage cassoulet recipe

In the days before Napoleon III and Eugenie's with their trend-setting fancy lifestyle became the role model for the newly affluent French bourgeoisie, daily food for the majority of the French was like this: all-in-one casseroles. Chopping and cooking whatever is available on the day into something between a soup and a main course is the ultimate way to feed a big family at the end of a hard day. In France this type of dish is actually known as cassoulet or (caçolet in Occitan) and can still be found on lunch menus in bistrots and auberges, always an inexpensive entry.

For me, it is a winter comfort food that reminds me of my Mother's cooking so as the astronomical spring starts on the 20th of March, this Puy lentils and Montbeliard sausage cassoulet may be the last one I cooked this winter.

Cooking a cassoulet takes a couple of hours but you don't need to be present all the time, it's really about chopping and letting it all just simmer away as you delve into your Facebook comments.

  1. Soak Puy lentils in plenty of cold water. Peel and slice a head of garlic and a few shallots.
  2. Slowly fry the garlic and the shallots in olive oil until golden brown.
  3. Add chopped Montbeliard (or Toulouse, or Morteau) sausages, potatoes and any root vegetables or tubers you can get hold of: carrots, parsnips, root celery, salsify, turnips, topinambour. Mix well, cover with a lid and allow to cook until half-ready, stirring occasionally.
  4. Add the lentils and enough water to cover it all. Add bay leaf, all-spice berries and pepper.
  5. Turn the heat to low and allow to simmer until the lentils are ready.
  6. Salt to taste. I also use fish sauce and a smidgen of liquid smoke for the extra oomph. Serve with crunchy baguette and a glass of red.

Sunday, March 11, 2012

How to saute mushrooms

Ever wondered how sautéed mushrooms never come out looking as good as they taste or smell? Here is how to beat the cheeky buggers and make them as aesthetically pleasing on the plate as in the moss under an oak tree.
  1. Wash mushrooms in cold water, drain and set aside in a colander. Don't believe those who will tell you mushrooms are too tender to wash. Yappety-yap. There is nothing to spoil your plate of lovely sautéed mushrooms as grains of sand on your teeth.

  2. Heat a frying pan on low medium fire. Dip the mushrooms into the pan. Use no oil or butter at this stage. Gently stir from time to time to prevent the mushrooms from burning and remove the juice in a separate bowl.

  3. When the mushrooms stop oozing the juice and have reduced roughly twice in size, remove them in a separate bowl.

  4. Melt some butter in the pan and fry until the froth turns nice golden brown colour. Add some finely sliced garlic and when it turns golden, add a generous amount of finely chopped shallots. Fry until golden brown.

  5. Add salt or even better fish sauce and, perhaps, a couple of bay leaves. Tip the mushrooms and the juice into the pan and allow too simmer on a low fire for a few minutes. Season with pepper and serve as a main with grilled bread, as a side dish or on top of pasta.

Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Monday, February 27, 2012

Sanchae Korean mountain vegetables 산채 - 山菜

Yeepie-ho, my quest is over. I have managed to find sanchae (산채), Korean mountain vegetables, in London. No Korean restaurant here yet serves my all-time favourite sanchae-bibimbap (산채비빔밥 ), so I may be one the first ones to cook it in the Big Smoke.

Friday, February 24, 2012

Madeira food and dining

adeira is not exactly your gastronomic destination. What you mostly get here is what guidebooks politely call "hearty fare": simply cooked peasant grub.Fried chicken or fish with a side of potatoes and veg - centuries of British involvement with the island's economy seem to have taken its toll!
For an island plopped whack in the middle of an ocean, Madeira lets down in the seafood department: there is fish and seafood galore in the markets but in the restaurants they end up cooked in the blandest and most forgettable way, oily and overdone.The fiery looking bunches of dried chillis I saw in the markets never seemed to find their way in any food that I tried. Could they just be used to ward off evil spirits in houses?Funchal's Mercado dos Lavradores may be named Workers' Market but it is mostly busloads of German cruise ship tourists that are unloaded into it with astounding frequency. Heaps of most exotic fruit make you wonder why it was the lowly apple that Eve had to be seduced with in Paradise.



Bacalao, the salted cod, as seamen's staple is probably what ensured Portuguese colonial expansion, but hello, refrigeration has been with us for over a century! I have heard so many times that it can be cooked in 365 ways but in each dish it tasted like bits of PVC soaked in stock from Knorr's fish cubes.The local specialty, espada (scabbard) filet with fried banana is of highly dubious culinary value: very good fish prepared in the most unimaginative way.

On the other hand, lapas grelhadas are a treat. Cooked very much like your escargots à la bourguignonne, grilled with garlic-parsley butter, they come together perfect with a sprinkle of lime juice and a sip of nicely chilled Portuguese white.


Madeira's finest seafood restaurant, Doca de Cavacas is definitely head above shoulders of other comparable establishments on the island, but then again, it's not such a hard feat. A platter of rather oily grilled fish, squid and prawns comes with the sides of boiled potatoes and vegetables. Meh.What is superlative in Madeira is bread and pastry. The local round bolo de caco is good enough to eat plain. With some garlic butter it makes for a scrumptious meal!Madeiran pastry is cheap, abundant and universally perfect, nothing to do with the utterly dull and boring British Madeira cake.Some varieties, particular those involving coconut flakes, apparently have been brought back by emigrant Madeirans workers returning from Venezuela, hence names like bolo Venezuelano.
Pastéis de nata, egg custard cakes that seem to have a universal currency from Macao and Dili to Lusaka and Manaus, are invariably delectable with a shot of punchy fragrant espresso.Bolo de mel, another Madeiran specialty, is a treacle sponge bun with nuts, delish dunked in port.

Wednesday, December 28, 2011

Roasted pheasant recipe

Judging by the rate the company where I work peddles grouse, partridges and venison to various posh restaurants, London's appetite for game shows no signs of abating. Inspired by observing the fringes of this celebration of ecologically clean gastronomy, I delved into the latest English edition of La Rousse Gastronomique. Here is what wise Frenchmen say.

T
russ and bard a young pheasant, brush with melted butter and season with salt and pepper. Roast in a preheated oven at 240 degrees for 30-40 minutes, depending on the size of the bird, busting 2 or 3 times. Fry some croutons until golden brown. Untruss the pheasant and remove the barding fat. Place it on top of the croutons and keep warm. Deglaze the roasting pan with a liittle poultry stock and serve this gravy separately. To make it an ultimate treat, the pheasant can be stuffed with truffles before roasting and the croutons can be spread with a small amount of forcemeat with the minced liver of the pheasant. (Source: La Rousse Gastronomique, Hamlyn: London, 2009)

Photos will follow when I get around to implementing this recipe in my kitchen. Please bear with!