"Bien Manger pour Bien Vivre"

Thursday, 4 January 2018

And so, that was Christmas....


The tree. It was the right height, as measured in the nursery, but turned out, once it had been delivered and unwrapped to have grown up rather than out, and had a rather punk-straggly look, that we did our best to cover with the many, many (many) baubles and beads that have accumulated over decades of Christmases.


In the end, though, it came down early. Of its own volition, as an unexpected gust of wind toppled it, late in the evening on New Year's Day.  We'd thought it would be stable enough, jammed as it  was against the ceiling of the barn...but, unprecedently, the wind came from the east (from which direction it had seemed well protected) and actually blew the thing further into the barn, and so free of its attachment to the roof beams. For next year (note): attach it with a nail, and not merely with informed optimism. Not too much damage, as I think only half a dozen or so of the glass balls were smashed - although, I suspect we might find when it comes to doing it next year that a few of the loops and hooks will need to be repaired or replaced before those particular ornaments can be used again.

Christmas calm continues, though, as the town is still on holiday until Ebufana, on the 6th, and we still have parcels to dish out every morning which come (although only putatively now) from under the tree. We do one a day for each and every one of the Twelve Days. For me: Books (Portuguese recipes, and a collection by Anne Willan of recipes from Taillevant to Escoffier; two maverick volumes, one published last week about urban poverty,  and the other published in 1893 about the state of things in Central Southern Africa, and strangely, both were by chippy Scots with little good to say about anyone or anything, and a firm self-opiniated belief in their own world view which in fact was entirely anecdotal in basis; and finally, after those,  a rather charming modern take on Madame Bovary); a variety of obscure kitchen implements, of varying degrees of practical use; and splendid shoes, and shirts ....and still there are two more days to go, with promise  of further treasures still to come!




 New Year's Eve was the usual bean-feast, although this year somehow more complicated than it had been previously: an array of canapés, and then smoked salmon timbales in Gazpacho, followed by crisply fried breaded ris de veau with tartare sauce, and then a borscht sorbet, which was followed by the central dish, of Boeuf en croute, along with Oxtail served in mushroom caps, and slices of spit-roast Beef-cheek, as well as pommes soufflés, and salsify in cream; and then a wonderfully mature Vacherin, served with Walnut bread...

 
and a break for fireworks at Midnight, before coming in again for an Omelette Norvegienne (flambéed, for good theatre at table) which was layers of lemon and hazelnut and pistachio ice-cream, separated by crisp layers of bitter chocolate, all kept in place  between further layers of Pan di Spagna, and covered with italian meringue. And for those who  were still standing, we thereafter served coffee along with chocolate-dipped crystallized ginger and poached baby figs.  The wines were splendid: Viskovska, with the salmon, and a South African Sequillo with Ris de Veau and sorbet; a glorious Barolo 2007 with the Beef, and one of the last bottles of my father's 1970  Port with the Vacherin. I think nobody realised that it wasn't champagne being served with canapés, but in fact a surprisingly good equivalent from the Jura - which was actually rather better than the over-hyped 'branded' champagne that was drunk at Midnight (and cost only around an eighth of the price, too!)

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Leftovers have kept us going for several days...but the fridges are now looking agreeably organised, once more, and so cooking for 2018 can now start in earnest!

Tonight's Dinner:

Tomato & Pepper Tarts

Celestine de Boeuf, with a mirepoix of aromatic vegetables

Passion Fruit Soufflés


Monday, 6 November 2017

Season of Mists...

Agrumi Lawn, with morning autumn sunshine,
and persimmons on the table



Autumn foliage, cascading down the Cypress
at the end of the Lily-pond


Tonight's Dinner:

Melanzane alla Parmigiana

Chicken Jalfrezi

Tarte Bordaloue

Thursday, 5 October 2017

The Almond Harvest





A basket of almonds, de-husked

Local peasant at work, de-husking

And the diminutive pile of shelled almonds at the end of the process!


Tonight's dinner:

Curried chicken liver croissants

Celery Risotto

Budino Toscana

Wednesday, 20 September 2017

Tiramisu with strega



This is a version of Jill Norman's version, where she used grappa, and I've replaced it with Strega (which has a flavour as well as a hit....whilst grappa , at least when consumed like this, really only has a hit). This method produces a tiramisu which is light as love, and is a completely different animal from the usual version, which - let's face it - can be a bit unremitting, and certainly has a tendency to sit heavy on the stomach.

Follow the construction method here to make either one large tiramisu, or make them in individual 10 cm ramekins. If doing the latter, then put crossed strips of foil across the base of the ramekin before you start, so that you can then un-mould the individual desserts, keeping them the same way up as they were made, for serving.

For six.

Ingredients: 4 egg yolks; 100g + 2 tbs sugar; 400g mascarpone; 4 tbs strega; 2 egg whites; approx 30 savoiardi biscuits (lady fingers); 1 glass water; 1 glass Marsala. Powdered chocolate.

Method:

1. Beat the egg  yolks with the sugar, then mix in and fully amalgamate the mascarpone and the strega. Refrigerate for 2 hours.

2. Beat the egg whites until stiff, and then fold into the mascarpone cream.

3. Grease the bowl or ramekins in which the dessert is to be made, and if using ramekins, line them with crossed strips of foil (also greased) to enable ease of serving.

4. Mix the water and marsala together in a flat shallow dish, and quickly dunk the biscuits in this mixture as you go along, just before you use them to make the layers of the tiramisu.

5. Starting with a layer of bscuuits, alternate layees of biscuits and then of cream until all the cream mixture has been used up, and finishing with a layer of the cream mixture. In practice, I generally find that in individual ramekins I have made two layers of biscuit topped with two layers of cream, whilst in one bowl I'm more likely to have had three layers of each.

6. Refrigerate the dessert(s) for at least 2 hours, and up to ten hours. Just before serving, sprinkle the top of the tiramisu with powdered chocolate.

Tuesday, 5 September 2017

Ham & Mushroom crepes, fried



I've been rediscovering Robert Carrier, to best effect from his first, and probably greatest book: Great Dishes of the World. All sorts of gems, which have presumably been largely forgotten in the half-century (and more) since this splendid tome was first published: Rabbit in cream is one such which immediately springs to mind.   The dessert section is excellent - although n.b that the quantities of sugar need to be severely cut, to be suitable for now ....we seem to have much less of a sweet-tooth now than they had back then (also true in dessert recipes from Anna del Conte, I've found, and quite a few others who were writing in the sixties and seventies...although, interestingly, not Jane Grigson, or early Anne Willan, or Paula Wolfert. Maybe it isn't a 'period' thing  but merely  the fact of certain people having liked sugar more than others....who knows?)
This particular recipe is extremely good, and it has the twist - for me, at any rate - of introducing the idea of frying crepes, once stuffed, rather than merely heating them through in the oven. The difference is astonishing: texturally, the crispness of the fried crepe and the softness of the filling raises the dish to another level; I now use this method for all stuffed crepe treatments, whether sweet or savoury.

For Four:

Ingredients: crepe batter made with 1 egg, 42g plain flour, 4 fl oz milk, 1 pinch of salt; 50g butter; 125g mushrooms, chopped; juice of half a lemon; 1 small onion, finely chopped; 28g flour; 10 fl oz milk; 125g cooked ham, chopped; 2 tbs parsley, finely chopped;  salt and pepper. 50g butter, for frying.

Method:

1. Make four crepes, by the standard method.

2. Melt half the butter in a frying pan, and in this cook the chopped muchrooms with the lemon juice for a couple of minutes.

3. In a simmertopf or double boiler, melt the remaining butter, and in this soften the chopped onion for five minutes or so, until properly softened. Add the flour and then the milk to make an onion-bechamel, stirring until the sauce is thick and smooth.

4. Fold into the bechamel the mushrooms, along with the cooked ham and parsley. Add seasoning to taste.

5. Use the filling to stuff the four crepes, spring-roll style, to make four completely enclosed packages.

6. In a frying pan large enough to accommodate all four stuffed crepes, melt the remaining butter, and fry the crepes in it for two minutes or so on each side until brown and crisp.

Serve immediately.

Tuesday, 25 July 2017

Shrimp Fritters


These are astonishingly good! The name sounds dull - possibly in spanish, it comes across better: 'tortillitas de camarones'. However you choose to call them, they are beyond mouth-watering, and are the best new culinary discovery I've made in a very long time. Served as a starter, they are very, very more-ish...
This recipe is another gem from Elizabeth Luard's 'Classic Spanish Cooking', which I highly recommend.

For about ten fritters:

Ingredients: 4 tbs bread flour; 1 tbs semola flour; 6 tbs water; 2 tbs oil; half tsp bicarbonate of soda; half tsp salt; quarter tsp paprika; 1 tbs finely chopped onion; 1 tbs chopped parsley; 125g finely chopped peeled shrimp. Oil, for frying.

Method:

1. Combine the flour, semola, salt, bicarbonate of soda and paprika in a bowl, and add to them the water and oil. Using a fork, mix well, to make a batter.

2. Stir into the batter the parsley, onion, and shrimp, and mix to amalgamate thoroughly.

3. In a wide, shallow pan (I use a large saute pan, for best results...you want something where the individual fritters have plenty of space around them), heat two fingers' depth of oil, until it starts to shimmer. It should be very hot.

4. Drop the batter into the oil in 1 tbs amounts. Allow to fry for about a minute, then flatten each one with the back of a metal spoon, and use a palette knife to ensure thay haven't got stuck to the bottom of the pan in the process. After a couple of minutes cooking, turn the fritters over - the underside should by now be a golden dark brown. Continue to cook for a couple more minutes, then take them out of the oil and drain them briefly on kitchen paper.

Serve while still hot. They are wonderful!

Saturday, 8 July 2017

Spanish Apple Pudding



I'm having a summer of Spanish cooking. Which, I find, is very often a more sophisticated version of Italian fare; where the latter is so often and very clearly the product of peasant kitchens and resources, its Spanish cousin is the result of centuries of a rich Royal Court, and a more varied and evolved culinary experience. For summer menus, now that the days are long and hot, and the evenings perfect for al fresco dining, Spanish dishes could not be bettered: light, and fresh, and deceptively uncomplicated in style.
From the pages of Penelope Casas (of long acquaintance), and of Elizabeth Luard (who I have never previously read from a purely  'Spanish' angle), and of Janet Mendel (a completely new find), I've been extracting splendid new nuggets. Of which this is one.
When I first started to make it, as I assembled the ingredients in the pan, a suspicion began to form in my mind that this was all very familiar, and that all it would be would be the puree that forms the base of a regular tarte aux pommes. And, when you see what the ingredients are, you'll understand why. But, not so. I'm unclear by what precise alchemy - perhaps merely the surprising length of the cooking time - but the finished product here is unlike anything else I've ever come across. And, it is good!
Serve it with cold, vanilla-flavoured Creme Anglaise. Cream, on its own, would be too one-note-ish, and the delicate flavour of the vanilla offsets the dense sweetness of the apple pudding to perfection.

For three:

Ingredients: 4 medium-large apples; 5 tbs + 8 tbs sugar; 4 tbs butter; 1 tsp lemon juice; zest from half a lemon; 1/4 tsp cinnamon; a pinch of salt; 2 medium eggs.

Method:

1. Make a caramel, using the 8 tbs sugar along with 4 teaspoons of water. Once ready, pour this into three small (internal dimension approx 8 x 5 cm) ramekins, already greased.

2. Peel and dice the apples, and place them in a small pan along with all of the rest of the ingredients, apart from the eggs; cook, covered, very slowly, for three hours. By which time they will almost entirely have collapsed,and the mixture will be quite dense.

3. Allow the mixture to cool, and then mix into it the two eggs, lightly beaten. Divide this mixture between the three ramekins, and then place them in a bain amrie and cook them in an oven pre-heated to 175 degrees C for one and a half hours.

4. Allow to cool to room temperature, and un-mould the puddings onto soup plates. Serve, surrounded with light, vanilla-flavoured creme anglaise. Exquisite!