Categories
bacon bread chicken food lettuce onion

chicken and bacon salad

chicken and bacon salad

It’s a real mothership this one, a monster among salads. I’ve piled it here on to a huge plate so everyone can help themselves. The name undersells it somewhat. The brining of the chicken is not vital, but will give lots of moisture to the final dish.

Chicken and bacon salad (serves 4 – 6 with no other accompaniments):

4 chicken breasts, sliced into fingery pieces

2 tablespoons golden syrup

1 star anise

3 cloves

1 red onion, diced

2 tablespoons white wine vinegar

4 rashers of bacon, sliced into strips

Half a french stick

2 tablespoons pumpkin seeds

2 little gems lettuces, broken up

Handful of other interesting leaves, something bitter is good

4 tablespoons mayonnaise

Splash of milk

Heavy-handed dash of Worcestershire sauce

Couple of tablespoons of extra virgin olive oil

  1. Prepare a brine of 8% salt solution, adding the syrup, star anise and cloves. Plop the chicken in and soak for at least 4 hours. Drain well and rinse under cold water.
  2. Cover the onion in vinegar and a sprinkle of salt and leave to marinate while you get on with the rest. Get the oven on 180°C.
  3. Begin to fry the bacon in batches so the pan isn’t crowding until browned and crisp, draining on kitchen roll as you go. Once this lot’s done make a start on frying the chicken until cooked through.
  4. Tear up the bread, and toss in a baking tray with salt, pepper, oil and the pumpkin seeds. Roast in the oven for 10 minutes.
  5. Mix the mayonnaise, Worcestershire sauce and oil together, adding milk if necessary to make a gloopy dressing. Check for seasoning too.
  6. Scrunch up the onions to drain the liquid off, then combine the chicken, bacon, bread and seeds with the lettuce. Drizzle over the sauce and toss well to combine.
Categories
curry powder food onion potatoes stock

maltese roast potatoes

At the recent Tilda stir-fry rice event I had the fortune to chat with many bloggers I knew well and in passing. The following morning one of them pointed me towards a recipe on their site, Maltese roast potatoes. Did You Put Garlic? specialises in Maltese cuisine.

Now, these aren’t roast potatoes as this blog knows them – in fact they are extremely close to potatoes boulangere. It turns out they sprang into being for the same reason – the baker has the biggest, hottest (only?) oven in town, so everybody would cook their potatoes in his kitchen once the bread was done. This cross-pollination of ideas is not surprising given the French occupation of Malta throughout the 19th Century.

So the food itself? Lovely. Crisp-edged, slightly soft potatoes brimming with stock only with the unexpected yet entirely welcome tickle of Madras curry powder warming the mouth through at the end. Very nice. To top it off I poured nothing but the best into it: all the veg came from my garden, including my first crop of this year’s potatoes. They were all spoilt rotten.

Head on over to Mer’s site for the recipe.

And yes, I did put garlic.

Print

Maltese roast potatoes

Patata fil Forn is an old family recipe.
Course Side Dish
Author Gary @ BigSpud

Ingredients

  • 1 large onion sliced into rings
  • 4 large potatoes peeled and sliced, lengthways into 5mm rounds
  • 4 garlic cloves thinly sliced
  • 2 teaspoons powdered vegetable stock
  • 2 teaspoons freshly ground black pepper
  • 1 teaspoon curry powder
  • 2 tablespoons of oil

Instructions

  • Preheat the oven to 200 degrees celsius.
  • Layer the base of a baking dish with a layer of half the onions, over this layer half the potatoes. Sprinkle with half the garlic, stock, pepper, curry powder and drizzle a tablespoon of oil over the top.
  • Repeat with the second layer.
  • Slowly pour in some water to just come up with the bottom layer of the potatoes (about 5 - 10 mm).
  • Roast in the oven for about 45 minutes until the top layer is golden brown and most of the water has evaporated. Serve with your usual roast, stews, or even between a couple of slices of bread with your favourite chutney (great for when you have left overs!)
Categories
food onion sausages

perfect toad in the hole with onion gravy

toad in the hole

What would Heston do?

Yorkshire attempts

This was the question that leaped to mind – and stayed there – when I first read about Amuse Bouche’s post challenging food bloggers far and wide to cook the ultimate Toad in the Hole. For those not in the know, Toad in the Hole is essentially sausages baked in batter. The batter is a Yorkshire Pudding batter, also known as a ‘popover’ in other parts of the world. I felt confident in giving this challenge a good go, as Yorkshire Puddings are something I’ve made since I was very little. My Mum always did a roast for Sunday lunch, and I was in charge of Yorkshire Puddings, often tweaking by adding other bits like stuffing mix or onion powder, but never deviating from the core batter recipe. It’s a recipe I’ve always remembered, and have had people request I bring the batter round to theirs to help with their roasts. It gives me a source of great pride.

When it came to this idea however, I felt it was time to re-evaluate what I knew about this. I thought about how Heston researched his In Search of Perfectionseries: to look at what people expect, and then how best to co-ordinate the meal to bring it together to something approaching personal perfection. When we’re dealing with such a well-known dish as this, I figured his take would be the way to go. To kick it off, what do we start with? There are three elements to come together: the sausage, the batter, the gravy.

The sausage would be relatively straightforward, I don’t have the facility to make my own so it would be a case of buying the best I could afford and doing it justice. A butcher in Chingford does these wonderful onion-flavoured pork bangers -what could be more appropriate? I tinkered with the idea of skinning the sausages and rolling the meaty lumps in crushed fennel seed, but while tasty it started to drift away from Toad in the Hole as we know. So the soss stayed safely in their skins.

onion gravy

With the gravy I wanted to reinforce the pork flavours, so roasted off some pork bones with root veg, then mixed with flour and water to get a thick gravy stock base. Adding more water and seasoning to this at the last minute would make a meaty porcine jus.

And then the batter. Little did I realise how much research could go into this; there is hot debate everywhere as to what is the perfect recipe. It should be puffy and risen, with a slightly eggy chew to the centre. The top should brown deeply and provide a satisfying hollow crispiness. How to achieve this contrast of chewy and crisp then? Delia has her own ideas, so does Yorkshire-born-and-bred James Martin, even the Royal Society of Chemistry has published a woefully unsatisfying guide on Yorkie perfection. After reading dozens of articles, I experimented with a range of batters to achieve the perfect result. I laid out a tin, and poured different mixtures into 12 indentations. There were different concentrations of egg, varying amounts of flour, some with baking powder, some without, some had stood overnight in the fridge, some had stood a shorter time, some stood no time at all. Some had fat pre-heated, some hadn’t. The results were surprising.

When it comes to flour, the evidence points towards the cheapest, nastiest plain flour being the best. So those supermarket brands in their worst packaging will be perfect. I imagine it’s the lack of active gluten, as the strong flours create far too bready a mix. Baking powder seemingly adds nothing (possibly even suspends growth) so no need to add any, nor use self raising flour. Plain flour is definitely the one here. Two rounded dessert-spoons of flour for four individual puddings seems right; pleasingly this amount is pretty much spot on 1oz. (I’m metric through and through, but you can’t ignore convenience like that).

With eggs the age doesn’t seem to make a great deal of difference as it does with meringue, but I found an equal amount of eggs to rounded dessert-spoons of flour gave the right balance of puffiness and chewy bits.

With milk the fattiness seems to have little effect though adding enough to get the consistency of single cream makes the perfect pouring and baking batter. On these lines, I strongly recommend making it in a large jug – pouring stuff into spitting hot fat doesn’t need any more hurdles frankly.

And you must season it – bland Yorkshires are as of air. A dash of soy is nice for an umami quality.

The type of fat was open to debate but served little difference than to change the flavour rather than the finish. I’m choosing to use pork fat from a recent confit to back up the pork flavours. Though it did become clear that the fat should be hot beforehand – the cold fat allowed the dough to just sit there twiddling it’s thumbs while both warmed up.

As for the leave to stand/not stand debate, there is no question that leaving the mixture overnight in the fridge makes for infinitely better results. I’m using cod-Chemistry here but I imagine the refrigeration captures the bubbles in the cold, dense mix and encourages the fluids to meld into the flour to break down any powdery lumps. It can look a bit odd the next day but a supplementary whisk does it the world of good.

Armed with all this knowledge, I constructed my lardy masterpiece. And it was fab. A brown crisp batter, with some firmer texture lower down, savoury sausages and some of the best gravy I’ve ever tasted, luscious with rich meatiness.

So, after all these tests and permutations, what had I settled on? What was the ultimate method?

Of course, it was my mother’s recipe. All these possibilities, and she’d nailed it years ago. 1 egg per rounded dessert-spoon of seasoned flour, slackened with milk.

PS. if you are doing individual Yorkshires, I strongly recommend using muffin tins if you can – they are tall and metal, funnelling the batter up into a pleasing mushroom shape.

Toad in the Hole:

6 ounces plain flour

Pinch of salt and white pepper

6 eggs

Milk (about a pint, maybe more or less depending on your flour)

6 pork sausages

  1. Combine the flour, salt and pepper in a large measuring jug. Add the eggs and beat vigourously. Add milk until you have a smooth, runny batter the texture of single cream. Refrigerate overnight is possible, or as long as you’ve got.
  2. Add pork fat to cover the base of a metal pudding dish. Put in a 210°C oven until smoking (about 15 minutes).
  3. Fry the sausages in a pan until browned.
  4. Give the batter mix a whisk to break up any sediment, then carefully pour the batter into the hot fat until it is about halfway up the sides. Float the sausages into the mix.
  5. Bake for 25 – 30 minutes until puffy and risen.

Onion gravy:

1 kilo pork bones

2 onions, halved

2 carrots, halved

2 celery sticks, halved

½ bulb of garlic

1 star anise

2 bay leaves

Couple of sprigs of thyme

2 tablespoons flour

2 pints boiling water

1 red onion, sliced

Splash of balsamic vinegar

Splash of Worcestershire sauce

  1. Roast the pork bones, onions, carrots, celery, garlic and herbs in a hot oven for about an hour until the bones have browned.
  2. Transfer the bones to a medium hob and add the flour. Push the flour around so it coats everything and add boiling water. Stir vigourously, pushing and scraping at the burnt on bits to release the flavours.
  3. Simmer for 5-10 minutes, stirring constantly until you have a thick stock. Strain through a sieve, pushing the veg matter into the mesh to get the last drops of flavour out. (At this point you can freeze this stuff for later if required).
  4. Fry the red onion over a low heat with a little salt, sugar and butter until caramelised. Add a sprinkle of flour, the Worcestershire sauce and balsamic vinegar and continue to fry for another minute.
  5. Add the pork stock and mix well. Add plenty of seasoning and keep tasting until it’s right. You may want to add a little more water depending on how you like it.
Categories
food onion potatoes

potatoes boulangere

I always grin when I remember this potato side-dish. When I’m a little bored of jackets, chips or mash, this heart-warming bowl of crisp and moist does it for me every time. The trick is, as with many of these dishes, awesome stock. I’ve recently seen James Martin do a cracking version of this, placing a roast chicken on a rack above the potatoes, dripping hot chicken grease over the potatoes… next time for sure!

(Allegedly, the name comes from provincial French towns, where the baker had the only oven in town. Once the morning’s bread was done, the villagers would trot up to use the leftover heat. Though why this is the only dish bearing the ‘baker’ name I don’t know…)

Potatoes boulangere:

2 baking potatoes, thinly sliced

1 onion, thinly sliced

1 teaspoon dried sage or small handful chopped fresh sage

2 bay leaves

Enough chicken stock to cover

  1. Pre-heat an oven to 180°C. Grease a shallow baking dish and place bay leaves on the bottom. Layer potatoes on top thinly. Add a layer of onion and season generously.
  2. Top with sage then repeat potatoes, onion and seasoning. When full, pour over stock – just enough to cover. Put in the oven.
  3. After half an hour, the stock should have thickened slightly and reduced a bit. Brush the exposed potato slices with melted butter and put back in the oven for another 15 minutes or so, until the potatoes are tender.
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