Start the dressing in a big bowl: olive oil, fish sauce, lime juice, chopped red chilli (sans seeds) a grind of pepper. Add chopped red cabbage (those pointed Cambridgeshire ones are ideal), strips of red and green pepper, a handful of tiny florets of cauliflower, a couple of chopped tomatoes. Stir and leave a bit.
Now for the smoothy textures: small chunks of ripe avocado and fresh mango – stir about so that they start to flavour the vegetables and are a bit squidgy.
Eat. Notice the hit of chilli, the crunch of veg, the softness of the fruits, the tingle of lime and the saltiness of the fish sauce. Salad hardly describes it.
We carbed out with cappelletti stuffed with meat and cheese.
An easy peasy Friday night.
Infinite variations on fishy pies
Knocking up a fish pie should be in everyone’s repertoire of great standbys, whether it has a Fish Pie top (potatoes) or a Fisherman’s (pastry). What goes underneath can adopt the same approach and, if crafty, entail just washing up one pot – apart from the topping that is. With variations of fish and the vegetables you need never cook two the same.
I use a large sauté dish or fry pan – a wok would do just as well – to make the filling from start to finish. It seems daft to make enough just for two/three, (who wants to chop half an onion?) so we usually end up making enough for two pies with the second going straight
in the freezer as soon as the finished (but uncooked) pie is chilled down.
So, into some oil in your chosen pan put a chopped onion, followed in cooking order by a pepper, some carrots – diced, and any combination of courgette, fennel (not too much), celery (ditto). Sweat until they’ve lost their bite. Then add a generous heaped tablespoon of cornflower and wiz about a bit, it doesn’t need cooking, but ordinary flour would if you use that. Add two teaspoons of the ubiquitous Marigold vegetable stock powder, or a crumbled cube of something.
Now you’re ready to turn the mess into a rich sauce: start adding milk, first in glugs, then as it thickens and cooks, more at a time until you have a rich, coating texture. Now add frozen peas or beans or even sweetcorn – if you like bright colour! – and let it all come back to the boil. Add some fresh herbs: parsley finely chopped, some fennel if you have it, or whatever. Check the seasoning and overdo the pepper if anything. If you want it to be extra creamy add grated cheese, or do the Jamie Oliver thing and slosh in double cream!
Now the fish. Today I used a couple of slabs of salmon and a big handful of prawns. In truth I prefer solid white fish, cod if we can afford it, but see what’s on offer. And of course, smoked haddock – especially with a cheesy sauce – is quite a distinctive version.
Turn everything over carefully in the sauce and take off the heat.
You should have enough stuff to fill two 2/3 person dishes ready for topping. If using mash, make sure it’s extra creamy: I smooth it flat with a spatula then do plough lines with a fork, going both ways, just like mum taught me. More cheese on top maybe? Dot with butter.
Then 200°C for about 35 – 40 minutes.
It’s got to be peas or steamed beans to go with it.
Afterthoughts: so you don’t fancy freezing one – then use the remaining filling for delicious puff pastry pasties – but watch when eating they tend to be very hot! Or just serve on a baked potato with extra cheese. Or pile into those individual shop bought Yorkshire Puddings ….
Pot luck Paella really is
Supper pot luck invites from us mean just that: a pot of stuff, and on this occasion quite a bit of luck. The food of course has to have a bit more effort that an everyday evening, but not such that it gets into dinner party realms: and it needs to support a nice bottle of wine (each, that is!).
So the paella recipe in this Sunday’s OFM, itself from a classic Spanish cookbook called 1080 got the mind and juices thinking. And a very large (500 gms) Octopus clinched it: Octopus and prawn paella.
Now it seems to me as a frequent risotto cooker, that the difference between the two classic rice dishes are few: the kind of rice, of course, that paella is finished in the oven, and that risotto has cheese and creamy unctuousness resulting from 30 minutes of hard stirring. So, on the face of it, paella is a cinch.
For once I followed the recipe, adapting to my more limited choice of ingredients. Measured rice (half what is proposed) to 250 gms and half the quantity of stock 1.5 pints. The method was simple: brown finely chopped onion and garlic, add skinned chopped tomato and cook that. Add the chopped up octopus and the rice, cooking in the oil until opaque. Slosh in stock, some parsley that has been ground up with the saffron (I added some sweet paprika). Stir in peas (I used frozen, recipe says tinned!!!). Put sliced peppers on top. Stick in oven.
Twenty minutes later I looked and had a fine dish of rice soup. Far, far, far too much liquid. Small panic as guest is a) great cook, b) mother of daughter who runs own v successful catering outfit, c) at my left shoulder. Send her away and ladle out large quantity of delicious broth (tomorrow’s fish soup?) Turn up the gas and pray.
After a minute or to all begins to look well. Add prawns and more parsley. Rescue now forgotten French stick just in time. Try to look cool and serve.
Result? Well, a result. Full of flavour in spite of light hand on seasoning. Rich and creamy and quite like a paella. The fish was very meaty and contrasted well with the prawns and rice.
The reason for the problem? For a start I automatically put the lid on the casserole that was substituting for a paella dish – wrong, no chance for evaporation. But I still think it was too much stock. So next time I’ll do the “just under an inch above the rice” measurement that I always do – and leave the lid off…
PS The picture is from the book – not my effort!!
Eating on the run, never great …
When travelling, days can go by on grabbed sandwiches and indifferent meals out. Monday was to be a case with end-to-end meetings and the last session finishing at 9.30 pm in Worcester – so a stay over needed.
I got a head start with the food, being warned there would be nothing from when I left till bedtime, by taking a brown baguette stuffed with home-made pate (see earlier). This was eaten greedily and in haste after quickly booking in to the Travelodge in the centre of the town. (For those in need ok – big rooms, dull, dull, dull, mine had great view of the Malverns over a forest of air conditioning units for the local shops. Expensive parking.)
Next door there is a Pizza Express open ‘till 11 pm, so look no further. I’ll skip the detail ‘cos here’s a more than detailed review of someone else there recently. For me it was too small, too bland – and that was the Diavolo! – and the only atmosphere that provided by well-oiled take awayers. The staff were efficient and charming.
No, the best pizza we’ve had in a long time was in Mali Velinj in Croatia: sitting on the side of the harbour, fish at our feet, literally. The dough was so good they sold it plain to eat with olive oil. The fish topping … well it hadn’t been dead long. They do take outs …..
At home we’ve settled on Jamie Oliver’s recipe for dough that includes semolina – not flour, the real thing. And a very fine crust it produces. More difficult to adopt his Italian, more is less approach: we’re in the British school of the more the better. Both view points worth exploring by trial and error.
Retro chicken hits the spot – 40 years on
It says that Robert Carrier’s Great Dishes of the World was published in 1967, which is probably when I bought it. But he’d started writing in the Sunday Times before that and in those days (pre-Murdoch and its many rightward swings) I was an avid reader. So, it may have been even earlier when I made my first dish of chicken cacciatore, and it’s been recycled ever since, as basic a dish for chicken as doing a stir fry.
Of course it’s never the same every time you cook it, partly because you never mean to cook it: I mean, who would serve such a retro dish these days? Us of course.
I can’t check the great man’s recipe ‘cos it’s in a box of books whilst the conservatory is painted, but they all have the same thrust. Take large retro Le Creuset casserole (without handle type). Brown off the chicken – it can be a whole one in eight pieces, whole breasts, pieces eg chopped breast and thigh, any combination will do. As usual, don’t be tempted to use cheap and nasty for this, it’ll just be stringy and chewy, but a top of the range, corn fed organic is over the top, it’s subtlety will simply be lost. Set chicken aside. Then soften onion and an excess of garlic, adding red and green pepper, again slices, chunks, whatever. Add the chicken back into the pan and give a good glug of red wine, boil most off.
Now to tomatoes: some no doubt suggest the real thing but here it’s a waste of effort (considerable to peel the things) and you don’t get the taste. Napolina is the brand for my money, a bit more than the own brands (13p for a tin of tomatoes, who you kidding?) but a great taste. And you need tomato paste as well.
Somehow I always end up with more sauce than it needs, but don’t worry too much, any left over will make an instant pasta dish.
Now for flavouring: basil is a must, and lots of freshly chopped parsley. You can add chopped mushrooms, or a dash of mushroom ketchup. If you’ve used cheap tomatoes you may need a hint of sugar, and a glug of balsamic if the wine didn’t enrich enough. Lots of seasoning too. I am sure there’s a refined version of this to be had in Italy where each delicate flavour settles on the palate, but in 60’s Britain we needed impact, so go for it.
Finally, cook off in a medium oven: you want the chicken to be intensely flavoured and the sauce rich and reduced. Whether you add black olives before you put it in the oven, or 20 minutes from the end is a matter of taste again, as is stoned or not. I love the rich olive taste so it’s stones in, and straight in for me and watch the fillings.
What to eat with it? A mash of some sorts is great in the winter: potato and celeriac, creamed potato. For a Saturday lunch how about baked potato? Even chips: my first experience of casserole and chips was in a French restaurant in Stratford upon Avon circa 1966 and it quite blew me away.
Pasta if obvious is good, but something that’s going to catch the sauce, so shells or penne rather than long straight stuff. And us last night? Dietary steamed veg, cauliflower, tiny carrots and broccoli. Great.
Not quite an Adriatic seafood supper
As the picture testifies our recent Croatian boat trip saw us eat a magnificent lunch of mackerel, freshly caught, with the heads hand fed to squawking sea gulls. I think we probably had four fish each – so toni
ght’s two didn’t look too greedy.
Four in a dish, well seasoned, a splash of olive oil, a finely chopped red onion, slices of lemon, and few sprigs of fresh thyme. A glug of apple juice is a suggestion in a Good Housekeeping recipe so it can’t be wrong. Foiled and a hot oven for 30 minutes about.
I wanted a chunky salad: so pointed red Cambridgeshire cabbage – shredded, sliced mushrooms, more red onion, a tiny chilli, chunks of tomato. Tossed in best olive oil well seasoned and just before serving some shredded Cos lettuce folded in. I have found a trick for this sort of composed salads which is to mix everything ‘dry’ as it were before dressing. Somehow the flavours blend better than if you just give it a toss when dressing.
There was a fresh sourdough rye loaf to mop up juices and horseradish cream – made for us dieters with yoghourt, and non the worse for it.
I promised not to mention last night’s takeout. Yuk.
Lip smacking leftovers
We noted earlier that the organic chicken hadn’t lived up to its potential when roasted. It needed a second chance. So yesterday it was stripped from the carcass and every bit of bone and skin went into the stockpot with carrots and onions, bay leaves (home dried), peppercorns and water. Forgotten about on a bubbling boil for a couple of hours it yielded some excellent stock.
Happy Dryw (the dog) got a carrot or two.
In the weekly shop there were four fresh sweetcorns, most surprisingly au naturel and not vacuum packed to within an inch of their lives. The corns were stripped (just use a large, very sharp knife to cut the kernels off the corn) into the stock. I added a couple of teaspoons of Marigold organic vegetable stock for colour and taste. Ten minutes of boiling and I thickened a little with two teaspoons (heaped) of cornflour stirred into half a big tub of yoghourt until smooth. (You could use cream or fromage frais but that diet thing …)
Into the bubbling soup with the chopped chicken – there was quite a lot – and a quick cook through. It needed quite a bit more seasoning.
The result, significantly better than the same dish made with just any old chicken and frozen sweetcorn (something we have done regularly). Goes to show, again, what goes in the pot in terms of quality, comes out.
Big bowls were followed by a small slice of Mediterranean vegetable tart (shop), with plenty in the fridge for later lunches. So, in the end, chicken did good.
Emptying the shopping bags
Ok, so I mostly don’t get the horror of the supermarket shop, but I do get the job of emptying all those bloody Bags. Do we really need/eat all this stuff? Apparently we do.
Rarely do I feel like a proper cook after this – just too much food – and the exercise usually involves finding stuff hidden in the back of the fridge that has to be eaten now!
So there was a less than a portion of roasted vegetables, and half a tin of tomatoes that demanded attention. And a pack of shop made (Tesco Finest) cannelloni stuffed with ricotta and spinach. They all seemed destined for each other.
The left-overs were bunged in a saucepan with a glug of mushroom ketchup, a splash of balsamic vinegar and attacked with the hand held blender until pureed. A handful of chopped purple basil (again nearing the end of life) and parsley perked the whole thing up. Voila, instant sauce to cover the pasta which went into a dish into a hot oven for 25 minutes. Oh, and a grate of cheese on top.
Not half bad too it turned out. I have done the stuff your tubes with cheesy spinach mix: comparing effort to result the shop ones came out on top. The sauce, well a happy happen chance of leftovers.
The Art of Festering – and nearly instant food
Mentioned this notion before: that some things are best left to their own devices to develop taste and unctuousness by natural processes. This is probably akin to the biological and physical actions called ‘rotting’ in other situations, but let’s not dwell on that.
Supper tonight was a perfect example of many things: the virtue of making a curry from the finest ingredients (in this instance the remains of a leg of lamb that had first been baked on a bed of vegetables to which a can of beer had been added; plenty of herbs and three hours on a very low oven – thank you for the inspiration Rick Stein), not eating it all at once (another virtue indeed), and the festering effect of freezing.
I hope no-one out there’s in the camp that decries microwaves and freezers as devices of the culinary devil. For us they are essential to eating well, cheaply and sometimes fast.
So take the curry: one click top box full of lamb with aubergine and defrost, along with a couple of portions of frozen mixed rice (wild, brown and organic white) cooked to store a week ago. Now, there were last night’s left over potatoes (red salad ones as it happens) and they got diced and thrown into the lamb to reheat.
Now this sort of meal can easily be lacking the fresh veg we need – so I made large bowl of raita: peel and chop half a cucumber; finely chop about a third of a red onion; sprinkle with salt; then fold into thick plain yoghourt. Now you don’t want anything too posh for the yoghourt: it mustn’t have any sense of sweetness for my taste, so the extraordinary River Cottage yoghourt that tastes as though it’s made from double cream is no good. Sprinkle on a quarter teaspoon of garam masala and a pile of chopped coriander and you’re done.
Make sure curry and rice are piping hot. Serve in deep bowls and feast. Chapatis, nan breads et al will bulk out the fibre if you need too …. but they really need to be home made so no time tonight ….
Flat pack bread – the result
So proof of the pudding – in this case the bread – is in the eating. And the Ikea loaf in the box has passed with flying colours.
First this morning it made toast. Now any bread this substantial is going to make quite a slice and this was no exception, but it became crisp and chewy with a good bite. Not quite the long taste of a sourdough, but interesting enough and fine with peanut butter and home made lime marmalade – separately that is.
Tonight we had it with a selection of cheeses and it again was good – not overpowering, but interesting and moorish.
So, it does work. And I expect it to improve with age over the next few days – if it lasts that long….
The rest of supper was an organic chicken roasted with fresh herbs on a bed of thinly sliced fennel. Great taste, tough to eat. The roasted vegetables were refreshed with half a tin of tomatoes, and there were steamed red potatoes. Altogether good, if disappointing, expensive bird. The left overs had better be good.
