New Bits of Kit.......

Finally, I succumbed. For several weeks before Christmas I'd been circling the gadget counter in WFM in Kensington High Street, contemplating the array of goodies on display. The Mango Pitter, in particular. Removing the stones from Mangoes is a skill I've never satisfactorily mastered, and the poor fruit tends to look more like roadkill then anything else by the time I've finished hacking with increasing frustration at it! In fact, if the aesthetic quality of the pitted fruit is at all important, then I merely hand it to the Technical Department to deal with (and why not? It's a technical process, after all....) which is generally, a reliable way of dealing with the problem.

As with all such things, though, I finally had an 'Oh, what the Hell' moment, and gave in. For something like the princely sum of eight pounds........I'm not quite sure why I dithered for so long....... the Mango Pitter was mine!

Anyway, I can now report that it works, perfectly. Resembling some kind of arcane surgical appliance, it is in fact designed to slice the flesh faultlessly from around the central stone, leaving you with two perfect halves of fruit, with absolutely minimal wastage. In practice, I discovered that you need to help the process a little at the start by scoring the skin of the fruit in the places where the cutter is first going to bite - which the makers don't suggest anywhere, but which turned out to be necessary on fruit which were absolutely at the right stage of ripeness for eating. I can imagine that if your mangoes are over-ripe, you risk squashing them as you press down on the fruit with the pitter - but, then, if they're over-ripe, you're going to end up with a mess in any event!

Highly recommended - and I can see it will revolutionise the use of mangoes in my kitchen hereafter. Much as the discovery several years ago of the pineapple corer did for pineapple consumption. Previously, the process of cleanly removing the skin of fresh pineapples had been a fiddly and tedious and time-consuming chore, which in practice meant that I didn't often bother with it. Then I came across a pineapple corer, in Filenes in New York (same place and time that I first discovered Microplane graters, in fact), and life was never the same again. I'm not sure how widely known and used these things are these days - they certainly deserve to be in every kitchen, if they aren't already - so it may be that everybody out there already knows about them. Suffice it to say, then, that with one of these things, it becomes possible to core and perfectly peel a ripe, fresh, pineapple inside a minute. Fantastic! One can't help but be impressed by the boffins who invent these sorts of things - and particularly without a battery or an electrical flex in evidence......

Slightly cheekier as a piece of marketing blurb was the claim for the new Zyliss garlic press that I've just bought for Italy (where the old one has just about given up the ghost, having done stalwart service for many years). The new garlic press is smart and stylish, looks very sleek, and does indeed do what the makers claim, and which persuaded me to buy it in the first place: it presses garlic cloves without the need to peel them first. Which, is great, of course. Except that I couldn't see in what way it differed as a piece of engineering from my other garlic press. So......for the first time ever, I tried to press un-peeled garlic with the other press that I've been using in London for decades. It worked! It always would have done - I just hadn't ever thought to try it......In fact, I imagine any garlic press in the land would be equally capable of performing this feat.
You have to give the Zyliss people points for their marketing chutzpah, though!

Oh, should you wish to track one down, the Mango Pitter was made by Oxo Good Grips ......so, I suppose I shouldn't ever have doubted the fact that it would work. Their stuff always does.

Tonight's Dinner:

Asparagus Mousse, steamed.

Duck Confit, served with Carrots cooked in Bristol Cream.

Baked Apples, stuffed with ratafia biscuits in Hazelnut Syrup.

A must-have......

....for any kitchen is an efficient cherry pitter. The bit of kit, I mean, rather than the poor unfortunate (normally) who has to wield it. And more than just any old cherry pitter, it should be a Westmark cherry pitter, for the simple reason that they are amazing. Using mine yesterday evening, I was struck by how every cherry was pitted perfectly every time, completely effortlessly, and with none of that fumbling with every second or third fruit to try and see whether the stone actually had come out because I couldn't be quite certain, by the end of which my hands are usually stained deeply with cherry juice, and half of the cherries are in shreds as a result! I am painfully familiar with this process, as the pitter I have in London is not a Westmark, but something nameless and of inferior quality.

Westmark are German - somehow, not surprisingly. They have a website (www.westmark.de), from which you can ascertain more about the science of pitting cherries (and plums, and olives....) than you would ever have thought possible. I'm not terribly interested in that, I have to confess - but I am interested in the fact that I could perfectly pit all the cherries I needed for clafoutis for two (and to have blended the batter) in the time it took to bring a a pot of Claudia's Papardelle to the boil, which was definitely under five minutes!

I bought my Westmark pitter as an impulse purchase at David Mellor in Sloane Square - always a silly thing to do, as I remembered once I reached the cash desk - but I see that now you can get them for quite reasonable prices in all sorts of places. Amazon in Germany are offering them for only four and a half euros a go........

The Kitchen has definitely taken second place to the Garden over the past few days, as this week we are first on the agenda in the 'James Bolton Garden Tours' spring visit to Tuscany - hence much effort has been devoted to slashing, and hacking-back and pruning and weeding, and generally making things presentable. Which explains even more focus than usual on labour-saving efficiency in the kitchen. A combination of lack of time and an aching back!

Today we celebrate - if that's the right word - Pisa's annual Marathon. They started from Pontadera at 8.30 this morning, and by 9.45 the first runners were pattering past our front door, through an otherwise completely, eerily deserted street (Italians do not do Sunday mornings......not for anything). By the time the first few hundred had gone by, several hours later, there were a few more people around - although the response from the passers by was more one of wary bemusement than of awed respect. Today was undoubtedly the hottest day of the year, so far, and clearly the general feeling was that these people were in need of some kind of help. Mind you, Pisani are pretty good at sophisticatedly disinterested apathy about these sorts of things. We have a boat-based Palio every June, with the requisite banner-tossing and medieval costumes, and as far as I can see nobody over the age of fifteen takes the slightest notice of it, but all take the opportunity of a day off to head out to the beach instead. Not sure I blame them.

Tonight's Menu:

Almonds roast with Oil and Paprika, as an amuse-gueule

Ravioli of Mucco and Tartufo.

Baked Sea Bass, with sauteed Radicchio and Fennel.

Iced Gingerbread and White Chocolate Parfait, with poached Prunes.

Update....

I've been reminded that I omitted to include reference yesterday to the stone pot manufacturer's website. It can be found at http://www.smmoretti.it/cotturespeciali.htm


Tonight's Menu: Tiger Prawns with Chili (see below for the recipe. I think I originally 'borrowed' this from a book of Spanish recipes by Penelope Casas, which came from the shelves of Waldenbooks in Key West, sometime around 1983)

Liver alla Milanese.

Chocolate and Apricot Tarts.

Essential Equipment: The Stone Pot....

Ok, I admit that to call this 'essential' is perhaps going a bit far. It falls definitely within the 'nice to have' rather than 'need to have' category....but when it winked at me from the shelves in Conran around ten years ago, it winked irresistably. A casserole carved entirely from one block of stone, with a stone lid to match. It appealed to all those atavistic instincts that are probably a fundamental element in appreciating good food and the processes involved in producing it. Its density means that it has to sit and warm in the oven for at least half an hour before it can be used, or else its sheer massiveness prevents any heat from penetrating to the ingredients within for at least that length of time after anything has been put inside it and placed in the oven to cook. The weight of the lid prevents any juices from escaping - so you need to adjust for recipes which assume the inevitable reduction of cooking liquids over time - and in effect the pot acts much in the way that a daubière does once you've sealed the top. The results are splendid every time, and when the pot is resting, I find it makes an excellent air-tight crock in which to keep bread, or even particularly smelly cheese. Its one drawback is the need for regular visits to the gymn in order to be able to lift the thing from the shelf to the worktop to the oven.....but then, I suppose we all have to suffer a little for our Art!

Tonight's menu:

A salad of arugala, dressed in oil and seasoning, then a layer on top of crayfish tails, topped in turn with shavings of fresh parmesan, and then fresh lemon juice and ground black pepper. Simple but delicious; first tasted in a restaurant in Reggio di Calabria, when we went there several years ago to look at the Riace bronzes. I remember, there was an excellent grilled Spigola at the same meal - simple and perfect!

Chicken Kiev: about time to revisit a dish that has been devalued over time by over-exposure in too many third class bistros and indifferent supermarket offerings. Properly done, this is a wonderful surprise of chicken wrapped around a flavour-bomb of lemon and garlic. (See below for the recipe)

Anjou Pears, poached in Port, then chilled with fresh raspberries and served with thick cream.

Essential Equipment: Microplane Graters.

I have a low boredom threshold and a poor attention span. I dislike fiddly and repetitive tasks, and one of the more mundane and tedious chores in the kitchen that has always been a black-spot for me is grating cheese. The old-fashioned way is both boring and slow, and because of these facts is additionally dangerous, since I stop concentrating and have a tendency to carry on grating until the tips of my fingers have also been incorporated into the process. Since I additionally have a low pain threshold, the discovery of the Microplane was a revelation. The manufacturers claim a revolutionary method of producing the blades that makes the cutting edges of the grater significantly sharper than all other graters - I have no idea whether or not the claim is true, but I do know that the chore has suddenly gone from the task, as it gets completed so incredibly quickly!
I first came across the product in Filenes on, I think, Avenue of the Americas in Manhattan (I might have got the street wrong, but it was definitely somewhere around there). By the time I realised what a wonderful discovery it was, I was looking for a second one (for the italian kitchen) at GTC in Sloane Square, and discovered I was in second mortgage territory. No matter - the next time friends were in NY, they had strict instructions to bring one back......which they did, along with two more longer and narrower versions (which are better for harder cheese such as parmesan, and for zesting citrus fruit) They also supplied themselves with more of the same for their own kitchens, having heard from me how wonderful these things are....and they too have been converted.

For zesting citrus fruit, the long, narrow-bladed Microplane is incomparable. It removes the top skin that contains all the oil and flavour, and leaves behind the bitter white pith. And it does it in a matter of seconds for a large orange or lemon, or a decent sized lime. This means no longer having to blanch zest in order to remove the bitterness, and producing in seconds a wave of tiny little citrus flakes that can be incorporated directly into whatever your recipe might be.

I think Microplane products are reasonably widely available these days, but since Microplane has its own website, then tracking down a stockist shouldn't be too difficult.


Tonight's Menu:

Tartes aux Moules.

Roast Pork Loin, with a poultice of butter, Thyme and Dijon Mustard. Served with Ratatouille.

Fresh Strawberries with Almond Cream, garnished with toasted Almonds.

Essential Equipment: Simmertopf

I've mentioned this piece of kit before, in passing, but I didn't know at the time whether it was still available, and if so how widely. This is an integrated double boiler, or bain marie, where an opening in the top of the handle allows you to fill the base of the pot with water, which when heated then acts as a bain marie for the top part of the pot. I first came across this invention sometime in the eighties, in Divertimenti in Fulham Road; it was then made by a German company, it was called (appropriately enough) a zimmertopf, and cost the sort of price you'd expect from Divertimenti. I've never had to replace one (I have one in each kitchen - hence 'essential'), and so was uncertain whether they were still around, and whether they still cost an arm and a leg. They are and they don't!
A cursory look around the internet found them at both Amazon and an outfit in the US called, I think, Gourmet Kitchen. Much more reasonably priced than I recall, as well, at around $50/£27. I suspect they aren't called 'zimmertopfs' any more though, so some creative thinking might be needed in tracking down the exact item from the stockists' list.

Nothing ever burns or gets lumpy in this pot. You can make things like Creme Patissiere, or Hollandaise and be remarkably relaxed about doing other things at the same time, and merely returning from time to time for the requisite stir and to see how near 'done' it is. Excellent for melting chocolate, or butter, or apricot paste..... you probably get the gist.

I think I once - about ten years or so ago - had to replace the little glass element in the base of one of the handles - through which you can gauge whether or not the water needs to be refilled - and the replacement piece cost about three pounds and arrived with German efficiency in about three days from ordering. The in-house technical department (i.e. bloke here with a screwdriver) made the substitution in about ten minutes, and all was as good as new.

Todays Menu:

Celery Risotto. (The Italian Celery has a flavour about five times as intense as that you normally find in the UK!)

Breast of Chicken, with a Lemon and Caper Sauce.

Poached Pears on a Prosecco Zabaglione.

Apricots in winter......

A new discovery. Dried Apricot paste from Syria. I'd not come across this before, but a new arrival on the bookshelves at Christmas was the first Moro Cookbook - the result of a dinner at Moro several weeks before, where an interesting sauce for roast lamb prompted subsequent purchase of the book. Perusal of its pages identified a number of previously unknown ingredients, of which one was Amar Paste, which - as with many ingredients which have been phonetically imported from their language of origin - appears to have a variety of names in English. In Moro, they refer to it as Amradeen, but this must be quite an unusual variation, as it produces only limited resonance on Google.

From memory, the paste is generally melted in hot water before being used - the book is sitting in Italy, and I won't be able to check the details until the next bi-monthly trip, next week. In appearance, the paste is a gelatinous sheet, slightly orange in colour, and the flavour is subtle - one can certainly imagine it working well with meat dishes, without introducing that rather unfortunate jammy quality that is so often the result when fruit is used in conjunction with red or white meats.

In the meantime, it was decided to give it a try here as the basis for a new after-dinner chocolate. Triangles of Amar paste cut out and then enrobed in tempered Felchlin Grand Cru. Fantastic! The result is like a distant and very sophisticated cousin to both an After Eight mint and a Jaffa Cake - wafer thin chocolates, with a subtly fruity interior. Highly recommended!

I got my Amar Paste from 'Archie's' in Moscow Road, W2. A fairly industrial quantity costs about a pound. And as for the tempering, I freely confess that I do not do it by hand - I researched that several years ago, and concluded that life was far too short - but instead use a small computer-controlled device called a Chocolatier Electronique, which is both quick, entirely reliable, and idiot-proof.

Today's Menu:

Poached Egg on Ratatouille (I love the combination of the egg yolk with the tomato and pepper in the ratatouille. For the latter, I use Julia Child's method, where the Aubergine and Zucchini are cooked separately and only added in at the end, to preserve the identity of the separate flavours within the finished dish.)

Fillets of Bream, with Basil & Tomato: For recipe, see below.

Cherry Tarts - fresh, stoned cherries on a base of sugar and flour, piled into phyllo shells and baked at 200 degree C for twenty minutes, or until the cherries have entirely collapsed and their liquid has mostly run out, to be absorbed by the flour & sugar mixture.

What's for dinner?

And so........for today's menu:

To start with, crisp Phyllo pastry shells, with duck livers and mushroom. Simple preparation: bake the shells separately until richly dark brown; saute sliced duck livers and mushrooms in butter in two separate pans, and then add half a wine glass of marsala to the pan with the livers in it, along with half a teaspoon of ground ginger. Let the marsala bubble slightly, then pour in some double cream and stir. Add the mushrooms to the mixture, correct seasoning, and pile into the cooked pastry shells. Top with a sprinkling of chopped parsley to serve.

This is always better using mushrooms found growing wild - but conditions aren't right for that at the moment, so this evening it will be the ordinary cultivated variety instead.

Then:

Boned chicken, roast with a poultice of butter, minced shallot, coriander and chopped rosemary - half of it pushed between the skin and the flesh, and the rest pressed over the surface of the boned beast. Use the ribcage to make stock for future use. Prepare the chicken several hours in advance, and then roast for approximately forty minutes at 200 degrees C. The combined fat and melted butter that collects in the bottom of the pan is fantastic for future sauteeing of vegetables, and will keep for weeks in the fridge.
This is a variaton on a recipe that I've been doing for many years, originally - I think - seen done by Paul Bocuse on the Food Channel in the States . It works equally as well with duck, when some bitter orange zest included in the poultice is excellent. Not only does this method make slicing the bird extremely easy, but you get a lot more for your money, as none of the meat gets left behind in the process of carving.

And to finish:
Egg-white chocolate souffle. The fridge in this household generates its own egg-white mountain on a very regular basis, and so egg-white only dishes are much in demand. This one is as follows, for two: 50 g melted dark chocolate, 4 egg whites, one tablespoon sugar, 1 tbs strong coffee. Melt the chocolate, stir in sugar and coffee, and then fold into stiffly beaten egg whites; pour into greased ramekins and bake eight minutes in a bain marie in a pre-heated 175 degree C oven.

I always use Felchin chocolate - better by far than any alternatives, even the much hailed Valhrona. Difficult to find, but worth the search. Felchlin is an old family run swiss business, and from the first mouthful you'll find yourself saying 'THIS is what chocolate used to taste like!'. It's imported in the UK by Dohler, but after that heaven only knows what happens to it. You can sometimes get it through Vin Sullivan, I think. For the past couple of years I've been sourcing mine through Felchlin's distributor in Italy.

Fyi, when I mention sugar, it will nearly always in fact be equivalent-volume Splenda that I use - it works just as well as sugar for anything which is baked or where the finished product doesn't require the silky texture that only sugar can produce. It's no good for ice creams,or sorbets, for example, and is hopeless for meringues. Otherwise, it's an important element in ensuring that eating well isn't entirely inconsistent with having a waistline!

Equipment note: for melting chocolate or making sauces, I use an integrated bain-marie of german design called a zimmertopf. I'm not sure how widely known they are, but they are excellent for this kind of job, where you want heat, but with no danger of anything boiling. Excellent for jobs like Hollandaise, or Creme Patissiere.