We’ve encountered sauerkraut in all the usual places: a memorable, heart busting triple sausages and ham platterful in Strasbourg (of course) where they manged to serve their traditional dish with some subtlety and well as monstrous portions; then there were the barrels of dozens of different ones at the Christmas market, we think it was Baden Baden, but it could have just as easily been anywhere in Alsace or southern Germany; and then the famous Eisbahn, eaten this time in Berlin where there idea of a piece of ham seemed to include best part of a leg, for one of course.
Thanks to the Polish invasion, the base ingredient – the pickled cabbage – comes in giant jars from Asda, well the firm is Krakus who do all sorts of marvelous things in jars. The problem then, to recreate the idea of lots of tastes of porky things, without going over the top, and encouraging heart attacks.
The first trick is to extract the cabbage – you need about half a large (900 gm) jar for two, but it’s packed in solid. I used a fork to start with, then my hands. As you pull the cabbage out, carefully pull it into its shreds, if you don’t you’ll just have an indigestible lump. Put into a large bowl with some crumpled bay leaves, some juniper berries and a real crunch of pepper. At this point I also added the last chunk of the home cooked ham diced into bite sized bits. Give everything a good mix by hand and cover.
At this point a pack of tasty sausages went in the oven to cook: flavour is what we’re after and if you’re cooking for more than two then a couple of kinds won’t go wrong either. If you want a kick a piece of chorizo would be good.
The last taste was going to come from some bacon – in this case unsmoked cubes gently cooked off in a non stick pan, but again anything goes.
Once the sausages were well cooked and sticky the cabbage, well infused with its herbs by now, goes in the microwave. Give a stir halfway through. Then assemble by stirring in the hot bacon bits (and yes, the flavoursome fat ..) distributing on plates and adding the sausages.
Traditionally the only extras are steamed potatoes, plain as they come, and mustard. There’s a very nice mustard and horseradish courtesy of the Poles’ too, so try it for a change.
Recent food
Eating in Brussels classical style
Those who know me, know that I like food. I had always intended to keep a food log – but in its absence (do I hear a sigh of relief out there?) I will at least review some of the meals I’ve had. Being in Brussels means there’s lots of choice to eat and as usual on a RIMSAT review visit the happy team went out together. This time it was the ultra elegant L’Alban Chambon Restaurant that is part of the Hotel Metropole.
The high ceilinged room, morning-suited staff and huge and elegantly set out table should have been a clue or three: this is French/Belgian classical approach to food. Our printed RIMSAT menu promised four courses – with a choice in the middle. But first, a plate of three amuses: an anchovy curled on a tomato resting on a caviar sauce; a tiny quennelle of white crab meat (where did all the brown meat go?); and a perfect miniature tureen of tomato cream. Three big hits of taste and we hadn’t really started.
The fish course was a terrine of sea bass and baby leeks wrapped in more leeks, the whole resting on a jus of vegetable/leek stock and fromage frais topped with more deep fried leek ribbons. It was delicate and served in a most generous, main course sized portion. Next choices: soupe de poissons de roch with croutons and rouille (mine) or gigantic trees of white asparagus with sauce mousseline. The soup was no petite tureen this time – a hungry person sized plateful. Getting full.
The main course meant the death of several small piglets – or conchon de lait as they are called here abouts. A fist sized loin complete with its crackling and a bed of courgettes. All accompanied by a little (relative word at this point) dish of haricots. The suckling pig was perfectly cooked, plainly delivered so that the meat’s taste could come through. I just managed ….
Then the pudding: a carpaccio of pineapple and roasted figs with a sorbet of limes. Knockout tastes. Defeated after half. I managed a few sips of chamomile tea. The others told me the coffee and sweeties were v good.
So another RIMSAT review survived, another exceptional dinner. (Don’t get the idea that all this European gallivanting is fun – only the meals relieve the grinding work. That’s my story.) This meal was proof for me that classic traditions, carefully updated can still deliver powerful food. Big tastes, big portions, big surroundings. Big result. Dominique Michou and his team deserve their toques.
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