In a pickle.

There's something horribly indulgent about popping open a jar of something pickled.  Whether it be cucumbers or green chilli's or perhaps a chutney, the very thought of pickles makes me salivate in gushing volumes.

I will eat almost anything pickled - only exceptions being eggs and dead babies, in that order.  I guess it must be down to my unerring affection for vinegar.  

Pickling, in vinegar, is a fairly well-established method of food preservation.  Pickling, in a cooking style is a slightly lesser known technique.  In Indian cuisine, the concept of Achari is to cook with pickling spices, such as fennel, coriander and nigella seeds, but to do so quickly, in a pan and without the need to hermetically-seal and lay-down for 3 months plus.

This is a recipe for brinjal or baigan achari, or aubergines cooked in a pickling style.  It uses a heady paste of ginger, garlic and ground pickling spices added to a thick tomato-based sauce to create a tingling eruption of hot and soured flavours.  

Aubergines, or egg plants as they are known in the US are a common ingredient in Indian cuisine.  I always wondered why the Americans called them eggplants - why would a tear-shaped purple monstrosity ever be consider egg-like?  The Americans, it seems tend to receive aubergines of a white/cream colour, generally ovoid in shape - hence their name.  For this recipe you can use the traditional purple ones, or indeed, the streaked white and lilac ones that you can find in indian food stores.

I have two recipes for this:  one from the hallowed Madhur Jaffrey book that I have had since university days, and the second is a more recent recipe from Rick Stein's Asian travels.  My only recommendation is that you don't shallow-fry them in oil, as Madhur Jaffrey advises.  This leads to both a huge amount of oil being used, and very saturated aubergines.

Here's how I do it:  

Aubergine curry cooked in pickling (achari) spices

•    Blend 2.5cm ginger with 6 garlic gloves to a smooth paste - add some water to assist this process.
•   Cut the aubergines into wedges, not slices alongways.  They need to be around 2cm thick.
•   Heat up a heat-set frying pan, or griddle until it is hot.
•   Brush one side of an aubergine round with olive oil.  Set it down on the griddle.  Cook until it is reddish brown.  Meanwhile brush the other side with oil too.  Flip it when it's ready.
•   When all the aubergines are done remove from the pan.
•   Add 3 tbsp oil to a pan.  When hot add a good pinch of asofaetida, 1 tsbp fennel seeds, 1 tsp kalonji (nigella) or cumin seeds.  When they fizz add the paste.
•   Add a can of peeled plum tomatoes. 1 tsp ground coriander, 1/2 tsp ground turmeric, 1 tsp cayenne pepper and 1 tsp salt.
•   Cook for 5-6 mins.
•   Put the aubergines in.  Cook on medium for 5 mins.
•   Cover and turn to low heat.  Cook for final 10 mins.

  

Get your baps out.

I had a chat with my Auntie Pat the other day about historic recipes.  My nan's beefburger recipe definitely fits into this catagory.  I have only ever seen my father cook twice in 38 years - once he made a cheese omelette without cheese in it, and the other time was when he made these beautiful burgers.

I guess the concept originates from a time, post-war, when people tried to eek out decent meat, and just generally tried to be thrifty in the kitchen.  In it's essence this is a very simple recipe, a british slant on a veritable classic (German or American - I'll let you make up your mind).

Here's how you make them:

•   Get a decent mince, none of this <5% fat malarkey, get some normal mince with a visible amount of fat in it.
•   Finely chop and dice a small onion (red or white onions work).  Add to a mixing bowl.
•   Grate a medium-sized potato.  Add to mixing bowl.
•   Add the mince, 250g makes 4 thick patties.  You can add an egg yolk if you want, but I rarely need it - the potato binds these burgers together.
•   Add a pinch of salt, and a generous amount of freshly ground black pepper.
•   Mix with your hands to make 4 even-sized balls.  
•   Flour a chopping board, or cleaned work-surface and pat the balls out until they are burger-shaped.
•   Fry them for about 8 minutes on each side.  They should be dark brown and crusty on the outside.
•   I served them with iceberg lettuce, taleggio slices on top and as you can possibly tell from the picture a fair old smidgeon of ketchup.

I have played around with these burgers to create various alter-ego's - they work exceedingly well with grated beetroot instead of potato.  You can also mash 2 medium potatoes and mix with the mince to create rissoles, which you then shallow-fry.

Viva Espana

By now you might well have ascertained that I am an indubitable proponent of Spanish food (and wine).  The English have an unfounded belief that Spanish food will give you a "jippy tummy" and that Spanish wine is "plonk" that will give you a violent hangover.

I have travelled around Spain on many an occasion, starting at the age of 17 when I went inter-railing.  I have an abundance of endearing memories of Spain, one of which stems from a holiday to the Costa Tropicale 2 years ago.  

A quick geography lesson:  the Costa Tropicale is reached by flying to Malaga, getting into a car and then driving in the polar opposite direction to the rest of your average, English Costa vacationers, i.e east.  About one and a half's hour drive east from Malaga airport will bring you to sunny Salobrena, a sleepy little Spanish seaside town.  Quite charming it was too, and proved to be an excellent base with which to explore the surrounding area.

We found a totally deserted beach quite close to la Herradurra, actually it wasn't totally deserted as we noticed a naked swimmer a bit further up...  We exploited this rare phenomena for a few hours (the deserted beach, not the naked swimmer) before the midday hunger pangs set in.  A short stroll up the beach revealed a beach-side restaurant, totally empty except for the smiling patron who, it turns out is the now, fully clothed naked swimmer!


Oddly enough our patron was Italian, but she shared a similar love of Spanish cuisine.  She cooked a simple tortilla for me and I enjoyed it so much I got the (extremely simple) recipe from her to take home to Blighty.


Here's how you make it:

•   Boil 4 to 5 small to medium floury potatoes until they are soft but not disintegrating.  Allow to cool then slice about 1cm thick rounds.
•   In a thick-based large frying pan or skillet, fry one medium onion in some olive in until it softens.  The purist tortilla should not contain garlic, but I cannot resist adding a clove or two, finely chopped.
•   Whisk 3-4 medium eggs until combined and aerated.
•   Begin layering the potatoes in the pan trying not to overlap them.  
•   Season the eggs with a good pinch of salt and black pepper and then pour over the potato and onion mixture.
•   Again, the purist recipe will not contain cheese, but you can grate over some manchego, or perhaps some parmegiano.
•   Allow the base to set - this takes 3 minutes or so on a medium heat.  During this time heat your grill.
•   Take the frying pan off the heat and place under the grill.  Grill the top layer until it rises and becomes golden in colour.

Eat it with a fresh salad, or simply some dressed tomatoes.


This is exactly what I ate last night.  It's simple, effective cooking at its best, and quite frankly it is far superior to any omelette in my opinion.

Enter, Auntie Pat

I often wonder where I got my enthusiasm and affection for cooking.  Some of it is down to my stubborn reluctance to eat pot noodles every day at university, some of it was due to my love of extremes of flavour (maybe why I love Haribo fangtastics so much), but some of it definitely stems from my Auntie Pat.

I can distinctly remember, as a child, going down to my Aunt's house in deepest, darkest Surrey and being hit by the beguiling smells of unfamiliar ingredients - garlic being one of her favourites.  

I discussed the concept of a guest blogger with my aunt.  I thought it was a great idea, and hence, here is her first (and hopefully not last) contribution.  This one is for Soda Bread, and I for sure will be giving it a whirl.

Without any further ado, I hand over to Auntie Pat:

Soda Bread

 

In these times of ‘belt tightening’ and with the average cost of a shop bought ‘pappy’ sliced loaf being over a pound these days, this little recipe is a winner.  It looks and tastes like one of those ‘designer’ breads you pick up at the “oh so expensive” Surrey Farmer’s markets and simply costs peanuts.  Its best eaten on the day of baking but still good after 24 hours and you can even toast it when it is 2 days old.  It freezes well and is very quick to make.

Note:  Do not be put off if your dough is sticky – it should be very sticky and you will need to rub your hands in flour to rid them of the goo!

Another point – as long as you stick to the weights and measures you can actually use a mixture of flours.  Oh, also don’t get hung up over the exact quantity of the lemon juice – I use all the juice from a medium sized lemon and some ‘purists’ insist on just 2 tbs of lemon juice to 320ml of milk – bring on the lemon I say!

Ingredients

• 450g/1lb of wholemeal flour or a mixture of wholemeal and white (plain).  Actually, I use seeded wholemeal 12oz and plain white 4oz (seeded wholemeal from that famous ‘partnership’ shop!!
• 1 heaped tsp bicarbonate of soda – again I go heaped for a bit more air
• 1 rounded tsp of salt – I grind up finely coarse sea salt.
• 1 tbsp of butter
• 320ml semi skimmed milk
• Juice of small/medium lemon
• A Handful of mixed seeds (optional)

Method

• Preheat oven to 200c – depending on the accuracy of your oven you may wish to drop that down to say, 190.
• Sift flour and add back into bowl the seeds etc. At this point you can also sift the bicarb and salt into the same bowl.
• Rub in the butter – this won’t take long as there is heaps more flour than butter – don’t worry, it will work out!
• Mix the milk and lemon use together and stir – it will now thicken.
• Add the milk mixture to the flour etc and stir using a flippy floppy spatula to make a sticky wet dough.
• Plop the mixture onto a floured baking sheet, (I actually use non stick silicone paper) shape into a large bun shape. Score a deep cross into the top. At this point, if you haven’t used a seeded flour, sprinkle some seeds onto the top.
• Bake for approx. 40 mins and then turn over to bake the underside for approx. 10 mins.
• The loaf should sound hollow (like a usual yeast loaf).
• Remove from try and cool on a rack.

IMPORTANT

Make sure you do cool on a rack as the condensation from the cooling loaf can evaporate – you don’t want a soggy bottom do you?!

Great with sweet and savoury, very moreish!

 

A duel - with a chilli...

Last night I continued with my ongoing mission - to bravely cook as much curry as a man can physically consume in one week.  I did, however, fancy something a little different.  I had some tamarind that needed to be used up, and some prawns in the freezer, and for me, this can only mean one thing - prawn pathia!

Persian food is hugely influential in Indian cooking - many people will happily devour a biryani without a care for its origins.  Etymologically, the name derives from the Persian (I think that means Farsi) word beryan, which means "fried".  

Pathia is another Persian style dish, which is about the closest one can get to a sweet and sour style dish on the Indian subcontinent.  In its essence, the dish is soured with tamarind and lemon, sweetened with jaggery and fired up with an enthusiastic introduction of fresh green chilli and red chilli powder.  It is a fairly dry curry, though it does have a rich, thick sauce.  Being a Persian style dish I find it is best to serve with turmeric rice (though probably the Iranians would use saffron to colour their rice).

I have a generous selection of dried chilli's at home, some I get from south devon chilli farm, and some I dry myself.  I was in Tesco's (yes, I know, don't chastise me) the other day and I saw some fresh Bhut Jolokia (sometimes called Naga, or Ghost Naga) chilli's.  I bought them and dried them at home.

Drying chilli's is exceptionally easy.  Simply lay your chilli's onto a baking tray with a grill attachment (so heat can be absorbed circumferentially).  Put them into the oven at practically its lowest setting, and leave until they are dried.  This can take anywhere from 6-12 hours, dependent on the size and water content of the chilli.

Here are 2 types of chilli's I used for this dish.  The bhut jolokia is the small orange one on the top.

   The larger, mild red chilli's are Mexican in origin, but I'm not 100% what they are called.  I used them as a replacement for kashmiri chilli - mainly for colour.

I did not anticipate the fierce intensity of the chilli in this dish.  It was my expectation that the sugar and tamarind would buffer the single hot chilli I used.  All I can say is that I am glad my curtains were closed last night, since otherwise I would have been spotted hopping around my living room, waving both hands around my mouth like a madman, drinking lots and lots of milk.  

I was determined to finish it though as the curry itself tasted amazing.  The recipe is adapted from "50 Great curries of India" by Camellia Punjabi - which, incidentally is an amazing book about regional Indian cooking styles.

Here is a picture of the finished product, and the recipe I used (note the naan was pre-bought, although I can make my own!):

•  The dried chilli's (one bhut jolokia, 2 large mexican reds, though kashmiri chilli's would be better) were soaked in warm water for an hour.
•  Blend 5 cloves of garlic a thumb-sized piece of ginger, the chilli's and a tsp of cumin seeds to a paste.
•  Finely chop 2 onions. 
•  Heat approximately 5-6 tbsp neutral oil in a karahi, add a pinch of asoefatida.
•  Add the onions and fry until they are golden/pink in colour.
•  Add the blended paste.  Stir fry for 1 minute.
•  Add 1/2 tsp cumin powder, 3/4 tsp coriander powder, 1 tsp of regular paprika (you can use red chilli powder if you have an asbestos-infused tongue), 1/2 tsp garam masala and 1/2 tsp turmeric (I hope you pronounce the first r in turmeric?  it really bugs me when people call it tumeric).  Stir fry for 2 minutes.
•  Add 3 freshly chopped tomatoes, or half a can of peeled plum tomatoes.  Stir to mix and fry for 3-4 minutes.  The sauce should be thick.  Reduce if it is not.
•  Add 1 tbsp of tamarind concentrate, 1 tsp of jaggery (I used molasses as I was out of jaggery) and 1 tsp of salt.  Simmer for a few minutes.
•  If you have some curry leaves, and chopped fresh coriander you can add them now, they really enhance the dish. 
•  Add prawns (defrosted, or fresh if you have them)  About 225-250g is enough.
•  Cook the prawns - this should take no more than 3-4 minutes.

If you like extremes of flavour, like I do, then you will love this sweet, perfumed and devilishly hot Persian pathia.

A wholemeal in one.

I think, on average I make some kind of bread at least once a week.  I made a bit of a booboo in the supermarket earlier this week when I attempted to refuel the flour situation in our cupboard.  I managed to buy wholemeal flour instead of regular white.  Now this in itself is not an epic failure, but its difficult to make flatbreads and pizza with.

Last night my hunger overcame me, and I really needed to eat something, so I checked the fridge situation:  olives, pancetta, rocket and cheese.  This screamed pizza at me, but armed with only wholemeal flour I winced at the prospect.

A few more grumbles from my stomach got the brain working - surely a wholemeal pizza base would work, wouldn't it?

Let's get a few things out the way first though.  I am rather pedantic about my pizza:

• Pizza should never, ever have any kind of stuffed crust.
• The crust should never be "deep-pan", it should be thin, crispy and light.
• Pineapple should be contraindicated as far as pizza is concerned.
• There are no decent pizza take-away companies.  I do, however, like a pizza express.
• Toppings should be minimal.  8 toppings on a pizza is quite frankly a mess.
• A decent tomato sauce makes, or breaks a pizza.

I do have one unanswered question though.  Everyone knows mozzarella is the standard issue cheese for pizza, but should one use buffalo mozzarella?  One antagonist school of thought hypothesizes that buffalo mozzarella is too watery and will make your pizza soggy.  Another protagonist school of thought seems to think that pizza should _only_ be made with buffalo mozzarella.  I am undecided.

Anyway, I made a wholemeal flour pizza base and it turned out rather well.

 
Ok, I made the perimeter crust a bit too thick, but apart from that it was actually quite tasty.  Admittedly the base is a little denser than if I used white flour, but it actually tasted of something.

The below recipe can be used with either white, or wholemeal flour - I will leave that decision to your very good discretion:

•   Around 400g of flour will make a pizza for 2 (or one hungry person).
•   I don't bother sieving it.  Straight into a bowl add some finely ground sea salt (about half a tsp).
•   About 150ml of warm water should be combined with 3/4 tsp of easy to use yeast granules.  Add them to the mix. 
•   I stir the dough using one index finger, trying to replicate a dough hook attachment.  When it forms into a ball add a few good glugs of decent extra virgin olive oil.  You need to use your nonce here to evaluate how much water is needed.  The dough should not be sticky, more silky and soft.  Too dry and then you won't be able to manipulate it.
•   Lightly flour a work surface and kneed the dough for around 10 minutes until it is light and pliable (if you are using wholemeal the dough might be not quite as stretchy).
•   Turn it into a ball and put it back in the bowl.  Clingfilm the top (or a damp teacloth will suffice).  Leave to prove somewhere warm for 45-60 mins.
•   By this time it should have nearly doubled in size.  Knock it down, on a floured surface and roll-out (our use your knuckles to stretch if you feel a bit tasty) into your desired pizza shape and thickness.

I served this pizza with a rocket salad dressed with olive oil and a perky cider vinegar dressing.  

Vealing Good

I'm home alone for about a week now, which means I have free reigns to cook whatever culinary delights I wish.  I had a hankering for something Indian, something spicy and definitely carnivorous.  As I often do, rather than decide what I want I usually loiter down the meat aisle in the supermarket to see what captures my attention.  On this particularly occasion I spotted some rather tasty, pink-looking veal.  I couldn't resist.

Here in England there is a palpable taboo surrounding veal, many people simply will not go near it.  The very thought of veal conjours up surreal images of tiny cows, caged in a box being force-fed bottles of artificial milk.  

Lets have a brief lesson on cow husbandry here.  Cows have calves, and these animals are either male or female.  The female ones invariably enter dairy production and happily lactate their way through many years of joyous milk making.  The male calves, however have an innate problem with producing milk.  What should happen to all these animals that cannot produce money for the farmer?  Yes, you've guessed it - they become veal.  

It is the stigma of crate farming that puts most people off eating veal.  Mercifully veal-crate farming has been made illegal in England since 1990 and everywhere else in the EU since 2007 (typically the Swiss are exempt and continue to use veal-crates - ahh the price of neutrality eh?).

As long as you purchase English veal, that adheres to the RSPCA freedom food program, then you can feel rightfully reassured that the animals have been given a decent, albeit short life.

I wanted to make a Madras-style curry, using minced veal.  Here's how I did it:

•   4 tablespoons of neutral oil (I used groundnut) in a pan.  Apply medium heat.  When it gets hot add a good pinch of asoefatida.
•   Add one bay, 2-3 black cardamom, 3 cloves and a half stick (10cm) of cinnamon.  Fry for 2 minutes.
•   In a mini-processor, blend one large onion, 5 cloves of garlic and about a thumb-size peeled piece of ginger.  I actually had some celery that I needed to use-up, so I also blended 3 sticks of celery.  Add this paste to the pan.
•   Cook for about 15 minutes, try to get some colour on the paste.
•   Add 2 tsp ground coriander, 1 tsp ground cumin, 1/3 tsp ground turmeric.  For heat I added one small bhut jolokia chilli, finely chopped.  Stir-fry the spices for 1-2 minutes.
•   Add the minced veal.  Get some colour on it.
•   Add one tin of peeled-plum tomatoes.  Stir to break-up.
•   Add one dark, beef stock-pot (from knorr).
•   Check seasoning, then leave on the stove with the lid off for 1-1.5 hours.
•   By this time the curry should be glossy, rich and dark.

 I served it with some gobi paratha's.