Categories
food stock

gravy

I was asked how to do ‘real’ gravy recently, and this seemed the right place to put it. It’s somewhat chicken-and-egg – for the perfect gravy you need to have had a previous roast from which to get your stock. And so the cycle continues. If you don’t have a decent home-made stock, and it’s not always possible, I’m a big fan of these two Knorr products: Stock Pots and Touch of Taste. Stock Pots for just pure stock, Touch of Taste for just a splash of intense flavour here and there. They’re both extremely tasty, and definitely the next best thing.

Make sure you cook everything in a decent roasting tray, as it’s going to end up on the hob – a cheap baking tray might not survive. Deep sides will help you out a lot too.

Moving on, the gravy starts when you’re roasting meat. I chuck spare veg in the roasting tray under the meat, which acts as both a flavouring and a trivet to prevent the joint sticking to the pan. As for the veg itself, if I have the luxury of choice I’d have a halved onion, a couple of halved peeled carrots, a couple of broken sticks of celery, a head of garlic separated into cloves, and a bay leaf. Any root veg alongside onions will do, experiment and find the mix that works for you. Anyway, bung the meat on top of the veg and as it cooks the fat will dribble out and gently roast it all.

Once the meat is cooked to your liking, put it to one side, resting in a warm place while you get on with the gravy proper. Put the roasting tray on the hob and whack the heat up high. If you can, spoon off some of the oil floating on top. If you can’t, it’s no big deal. Start pushing and scraping at the veg to start unsticking it from the tray. At this point add a rounded dessert spoon of plain flour and grind it around until you can’t see it. This is the time you need to add stock. If you’re not sure, add more rather than less. What a dismal dinner, to run out of gravy 🙁 I usually use around a pint for about 4 people. This should start bubbling furiously, and will help lift the browned vegetable matter from the dish. Keep having at it with a wooden spoon, pushing at the base of the tray and soon everything will be loose. Dig at the veg occasionally, smashing it a bit so it breaks up. These tiny plant bits will give real body and flavour to the finished gravy.

After a few minutes, it will be bubbly and probably dark in colour. You’ll need to taste it here (carefully, it’s hot!) and add salt and pepper as required. Let it bubble a bit longer if you’d prefer it a little thicker. Note for next time: if this isn’t thick enough for you you could’ve added a spoonful more flour earlier. If it tastes meaty, a little salty and rich, we’re ready!

Sieve it off into a jug, pushing at all the veg matter with your wooden implement. Again that fibrous stuff will give real texture to the meat juice. I often prepare this as soon as the meat is done, then (whisper it) microwave the gravy at the last minute.

All this aside, keep Bisto in the cupboard. You never know when you’ll get caught short.

Categories
food lamb

roast lamb

Spring is surely here when lamb is on the menu. Wonderful, succulent, English lamb. I used a shoulder; just as interesting and tasty as a leg, but half the price. A trickier carve I’ll grant you but I can suffer that for luscious tender meat.

With the benefit of ample time on a Sunday, I fancied a slow roast on this occasion. I turned to two inspirations, food pornographer Nigel Slater and laid-back New Zealander Peter Gordon. If Kiwis know how to cook something, it’s lamb. I started by slashing the meat all over with deep grooves, reaady for flavours. I arrived at a baste of juicy garlic, aromatic garden-picked rosemary, prickly mustard seeds and of course s&p. I mashed all this together and smeared it into a paste with olive oil, then eagerly rubbed all over the meat. I put this in an oven of 150c, over some onions, carrots and celery, covered with foil.

As pungent garlicky smells filled the air, I basted the meat every half hour or so then removed the foil after about four hours. A further twenty minutes just to brown a little more of the surface, and left it to rest for an hour. The meat came off with no effort at all, and made piles of juicy lamb. I served with roast potatoes (natch), carrots, yorkshire puddings (it’s not beef, so sue me) and broccoli cheese. The meat was filled with savoury, tender juice and had a wonderful flavour. It’s a crappy old ad slogan, but there’s never a better time to “Slam in the Lamb”.

Print

roast lamb

This British Sunday classic is easy to do but just needs time.
Course Main Course
Cuisine British
Keyword lamb, meat
Servings 8
Author Gary @ BigSpud

Ingredients

  • 1.5 kg lamb shoulder
  • 1 bulb garlic
  • 1 tablespoon rosemary chopped
  • 1 teaspoon mustard seeds
  • 1 onion roughly chopped
  • 1 carrot roughly chopped
  • 1 stick celery roughly chopped

Instructions

  • Preheat the oven to 150C.
  • Bash together the rosemary, mustard seeds and half the garlic in a pestle and mortar. Add salt and pepper and stir through a tablespoon or so of olive oil. Massage this all over the lamb.
  • Put the rest of the garlic, the onion, celery and carrot in the base of a deep roasting tray. Put the lamb on top with a mugful of water and cover with foil. Roast in the oven for 4 hours.
  • Remove the foil for the last 20 minutes of cooking. Make sure you leave to rest for about an hour before carving.
Categories
bacon chicken food red cabbage

chicken wrapped in bacon with red cabbage and champ

Last week I watched a great series from the wonderful Hardeep Singh Kohli, Chefs and the City, where norms bring their signature dish to battle against a pro chef. One guy lost in a brazen fashion, daring to take on a French chef at something right up their street. He was destroyed, but there was something promising in his quail wrapped in bacon. I decided to adapt it to my own means.

I started with chicken breasts, skin-on, seasoned well. I then lifted the fillet and filled with a generous splurge of garlic Philadelphia before folding back over. Then the whole breast was wrapped in two pieces of bacon, seasoned again and brushed with olive oil. On a baking tray it went, into a 180 oven for about half an hour til golden brown. I made sure it rested for at least five mins before serving.

The red cabbage was proper rich: butter, brown sugar and red wine vinegar melted together then poured over the shredded cabbage and bunged in the oven.

Meanwhile, some excessive mash: potatoes boiled to tenderness of course, but on the side I was allowing some leftover double cream to infuse on a gentle heat with half an onion, some nutmeg and some peppercorns. When the potatoes were ready and drained I added butter and some of the cream, then whipped the potatoes with a fork (smoother paste through the tines you see) until they were slick and floury. I chucked in some spring onions for good measure, to give some acidity through the richness. I couldn’t resist adding a few fried crispy bacon bits on top for fun.

I sliced the chicken on the diagonal and plated it up – admittedly I wish I’d served it with a little more thought so it wasn’t three dollops of things, but it was one of the best things I’ve ever made. Really top-grade stuff.

Categories
cabbage food pork swede

hungarian pork chops with cabbage and swede

 

Yet another Jamie winner, and yet another triumph from my friendly neighbourhood butcher. There’s three distinct parts here: pork chop, spicy cabbage, and roast swede.

Swede first: peeled and diced, tossed with salt, pepper, oil and thyme, left to roast for 45 mins.

Then the pork. I made a rub first by grinding fennel seeds, paprika, salt and pepper together in my two-ton pestle and mortar (must pic that some day), and then pressing all over my beautiful pink pork chops. Then on to a nice hot griddle, ten minutes all told, turning every couple of minutes.

When the pork was done and resting (crucial for those flavours and juices to return throughout the meat), it was time for the cabbage. I heated some oil in a hot pan, then added mustard seeds, cayenne pepper and sliced garlic until the seeds were popping out of the pan. Then shredded cabbage was quickly added and tossed in the pan until it caught slightly, blackening the edges.

It was lovely – juicy flesh, with aniseedy flavours hitting you immediately then giving way to the smoky-sweet paprika. The cabbage and swede were great counters to both of these. Enjoyed this a lot.

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