You know the drill by now: if I see a roast potato recipe, I must try it. So it was with Simon Hopkinson’s. They aren’t roasted so much as glazed in gravy. It was difficult to find the precise recipe online so I had to fudge the details a bit. I can tell you peeling cooked potatoes with the skins on was not fun at all.
You won’t get crunch but you will get pockets of rich meaty flavour on the surface. They’re not quite for me as I can’t call it a roast potato without a glassy outer shell but they are different.
Gravy-glazed roast potatoes (serves 4):
750g waxy potatoes
300ml chicken stock
Steam the potatoes, in their skins, for 20 mins or until soft. When cool enough to handle peel.
Put a heavy frying pan or baking tray over a high heat and add half the gravy. Add the potatoes and toss well, as the liquid disappears add a little more stock, until the potatoes are shiny and sticky.
2011 is not quite over but I think we have seen the major releases in cookbooks this year that we should expect. If you’re planning on buying the foodie in your life a recipe book, here’s what I would be asking for!
2010 was an embarrassment of riches in the cookbook market; to be honest this year wasn’t quite as bountiful. Nevertheless there are plenty of gems to be had. Here’s a rundown of what I consider to be my absolute favourites of this year.
This was a real joy to discover. Simon Hopkinson, someone I was only passingly familiar with, popped up week after week with relaxed, homely, but gobstoppingly good food. Nothing was difficult, nothing was pressured but everything was tasty without feeling stodgy. The presentation was fresh and geek that I am giggled at the use of QR codes for the recipes. All the recipes are winners.
And on another note: I really want Simon’s kitchen, replete with adjacent sofa for reading while your sponge rises.
If there’s an unconfident cook you know this would be a great gift, with recognisable but foolproof dinners.
This book had a unique criteria for selection in this list. My Dad flicked through it, raised his eyebrows and said “can I borrow that?” and took it home to read cover-to-cover. Not like my Dad at all.
He enjoyed the same things that I did in it: part recipe book and part autobiography, this lovingly prepared tome covers the trials and tribulations of raising livestock. There’s so much humanity in every page you really feel for Tim and Fran as they lose another animal to the ravages of nature and disease.
If that doesn’t do it for you then the recipes will. Proper farmhouse fare treating each animal and each cut with the respect they know it deserves. Casseroles, roasts, stir-fries… all very approachable.
This book also features one of my favourite things: those diagrams that tell you where all the cuts of an animal are from, with dotted lines criss-crossing the beast. I think they’re fascinating.
It could never really be anyone else. My mild Heston obsession peaked this year with both meeting the man himself and then the arrival of this beautiful book. It’s a huge great heavy thing, not easy to read in bed I can tell you (yes, I read it in bed, so what?).
Even though it bears the title “at home” most of the recipes are still quite involved and still multi-stage. Nothing however is insurmountable and thankfully laid out in a clear and achievable way. He admits some things do need a lot of investment but reading the method thoroughly reveals insight. None of it feels extraneous and calling on Heston’s detailed research yields incredible results on the plate. With flavour combinations you’re not familiar with and processes that feel odd at the time, this is a real way to genuinely improve your daily techniques in the way you approach cooking. From chicken and potatoes, from triple-cooked chips to porridge, from sweets in a jar to dry-ice ice cream, all the Heston classics are here plus new delights.
The best parts are the long chunks on Heston’s thoughts about a subject, such as fish, desserts and the long evangelising essay on the benefits of sous-vide (which I would love to have at home – just waiting on Argos to do an Anthony Worral-Thompson branded one).
One slight quibble is if you are a Heston-maniac many of them will feel familiar and almost reprinted but the comprehensiveness of the collection make them apt. To be without them would feel lacking.
In short, it’s a great collection of articles with moments of brilliant inspiration from the chef that most inspires me. Fantastic.
As previously mentioned, I love Simon Hopkinson’s Good Cook series. And I love lamb breast recipes. So my only reservation is seeing Simon do this brilliant recipe is fretting that the price of lamb breast would go up. Lamb breast is dirt cheap, seriously cheap, so what we don’t need is a primetime BBC programme showing how amazing lamb breast can be.
And amazing it is. Rich, heady, falling-apart lamb with luscious, sharp onions is an absolute dream. Try it now.
Season the lamb in a hot, lidded casserole pan until browned all over. Remove from the pan and put to one side. Add half the onions to the pan, lay the lamb back on top then cover with the remaining onions and the bay leaf. Top with a circle of greaseproof paper and bake for three hours, until the lamb is tender.
Turn off the oven heat and remove the casserole dish. Discard the bay leaf and put the lamb in a roasting tray. Cover with foil and leave in the oven while you finish the onions.
Put the casserole dish over a low heat and add the anchovy and vinegar. Stir through and season to taste, so it’s sweet, salty and sharp at the same time. When it’s ready turn off the heat and add the parsley. Serve the lamb with a nice pile of juicy onions alongside.
I’ve eyed up a panzanella for ages, spotting a particularly nice one in Tony & Giorgio. Yet I’ve not got round to it, until Simon Hopkinson chided me from the couch to give it a go. I have no idea why I’ve left it so long, it’s exactly the sort of food I love and the food I love the Italians for. It’s a Tuscan bread salad with onions, tomato and cucumber, mixed together with vinegar and oil left to marinate.
I’ve added my own tweak by roasting the bread first; I think you get more interesting flavours and the bread doesn’t completely break down. Sharp and fresh, yet rounded and satisfying at the same time. I can’t recommend it enough. Not bad for a peasant dish.
Cut the bread into large croutons, drizzle with a little oil, toss over some seas salt and pepper and roast on a baking tray for 10 minutes until just starting to colour.
Add the toasted bread to a large bowl with the remaining ingredients. Stir well and add more oil, vinegar, salt and pepper until you’re happy with it. You can eat straight away but it loves to sit around and let the flavours mingle, so eat it the next day if you like.
