Tuesday, 17 October 2017

Les Patiences Fraxinoises And Boodle Goes To Provence

If you follow any of Julie Andrieu's TV programmes then you'll know that she's fond of wandering around digging up authentic, local recipes. (My wife is firmly of the opinion that I'd follow Julie Andrieu anywhere she wanted to lead me. She may well be right.) Ms Andrieu visited La Garde-Freinet in Provence a few years ago and was given a recipe for the authentic patience fraxinoise. Until I saw the programme I thought they were little almond biscuits but it turns out that I knew nothing.

In fact, these biscuits are somewhat similar to a langue de chat, although there are a few major differences: they don't include any butter, they're flavoured with orange flower water and they're round and not shaped like a cat's tongue. I did depart a little from the original recipe by adding some maple syrup.
Patiences Fraxinoises
Strictly speaking these should be baked in a very hot oven – something wood-fired would be ideal – but they work perfectly well in a domestic oven on a high setting. I've cut the recipe down to the minimum practical amount but it still produced around 40 biscuits of roughly 4 cm diameter. They're  lovely with a glass of sweet wine or a small coffee and do a fine job when served with ice cream.  Or you could use them with a creamy dessert and funnily enough you'll find one of those below.

150 g caster sugar
1 egg
50 ml water
2 tsp orange flower water
2 tsp maple syrup
170 g plain flour

Preheat the oven to 230°C. Cover a few oven trays with baking paper or silicon sheets.

Whisk the caster sugar and egg together thoroughly until very pale. Whisk in the water, orange flower water and maple syrup.  Add about a quarter of the flour and beat in. Repeat three times with the rest of the flour.

You need to place small circles of the mixture onto the prepared baking sheets and the neatest way of doing this is probably to pipe it on. The mixture is relatively thin and will spread so aim for circles of about 3 cm diameter and you should end up with finished biscuits of around 4 cm. If you don't fancy piping, you can simply spoon small amounts onto the baking sheets – the shape may not be perfectly round, but what's a few odd shapes between friends?

Bake the biscuits for around 5 minutes. When they're ready the biscuits should have some colour around the edges but remain pale and interesting in the centres. Carefully transfer to a rack to cool. (Make sure you eat one or two as soon as they're cool – I think they're at their very best then).  Store in an airtight tin.

And now for the "creamy" dessert……

Boodle’s Orange Yoghurt

Boodle's Orange Fool is a traditional dessert invented and served at the seriously exclusive club in London. This definitely isn't it. This is a low fat alternative that just uses some of the same flavours. The real thing is a genuine fool with more than a hint of trifle and depends upon the thickening action of citrus on cream and that's not going to happen with yoghurt.  This combination of flavours is probably not strictly historically correct either, but it makes a refreshing mix that works very well with the patiences fraxinoises.
Boodle in Provence
Juice and finely-grated zest of 1 orange
Juice and finely-grated zest of 1 lemon
15 g caster sugar
300 g 0% fat Greek yoghurt

Mix the zest and juices with the sugar and stir to dissolve. Beat into the yoghurt and chill thoroughly. The mixture will thicken a little as it chills but please don't expect the texture and thickness of a fool. Either layer the yoghurt and patiences fraxinoises in a small bowl or glass or simply serve the biscuits alongside.

-

I've been asked (several times as it happens by the same person) why I don't share posts on blog link ups any longer and apart from the fact that I'm really lazy I suppose the main reason is that they emphasise the social media malarkey these days and I don't do any of that. But these are a treat and they're petite so I'll link this to Treat Petite. I told you I wasn't a complete curmudgeon.  



Sunday, 24 September 2017

Galipettes

I'm in a retro mood. Shirley Conran famously wrote in the mid-seventies that ‘Life is too short to stuff a mushroom’. I suppose if she were thinking along the same lines now she would suggest that life is too short to spiralise a courgette. Despite the Conran statement, the stuffed mushroom was a staple of the seventies and early eighties and I remember it very fondly.

What's that got to do with galipettes? Well, if you order ‘galipettes’ from a French menu, then expect stuffed mushrooms to arrive on your plate. The word ‘galipette’ actually means ‘somersault’ and either refers to the fact that the mushroom is turned upside down to be eaten or that the mushrooms are so large that they start to fall over of their own accord. I've been given both explanations and I've no idea what's correct, so take your pick.

British mushrooms of the 1970s were usually stuffed with garlic butter and breadcrumbs but in France galipettes can also be stuffed with goat’s cheese or snail butter and sometimes with a combination of rillettes, cheese and butter, especially if you happen to be near the Loire. I probably don't need to add that they can be very rich. I prefer to make a simpler Loire version and now that pork rillettes are widely available in this country, why not revive the 1970s? Despite the Conran admonition, this is a very simple and quick dish to put together and makes a fine, retro starter or lunch dish if combined with some decent, crusty bread and a few salad leaves. Smaller mushrooms will work very well as savoury bites with an aperitif but they are a bit messy, so be prepared to hose down your guests after eating.
Galipette
It's difficult to be precise about amounts for this recipe because so much depends on the size of your mushrooms, but allow around 50 g of pork rillettes to fill one large portobello mushroom (unless you want a LOT of filling) and scale up as appropriate. This really isn't a recipe that demands too much precision.

Make sure the mushrooms are clean, remove the stalks with a small knife or by snapping them off if the mushroom is cooperative in that way. Mix the rillettes with a little fresh thyme if you fancy and spread the rillettes gently and evenly into the cup of the mushroom. Grate over a little lemon zest, add a grind or two of pepper and top with some panko breadcrumbs. (I can’t recall ever coming across a crust of panko breadcrumbs on mushrooms in France, but I love the panko crunch).

Put the mushrooms on a baking tray in the oven at 180ºC for around 20 minutes for large mushrooms or until they're tender and oozing.

Of course, you could be much more industrious and make your own rillettes if you can't find any in the shops. There's a very fine recipe by the always excellent Simon Hopkinson here if you want to try. I don't think that's life's too short to make rillettes but I do think that unfortunately it's very often too busy these days.

Wednesday, 30 August 2017

Slow Cooked Courgettes - A Dip & A Mash

Five years ago I wittered on about slow cooked courgettes and, as if once wasn't enough, I'm afraid I'm now going to witter on about a few variations on that theme.  After all, there are a lot of courgettes around at the moment that need to be cooked somehow and these recipes even allow me to use up the overgrown courgettes that I've neglected so badly in the garden.

To be honest, though, the main reason to revive this way of cooking courgettes is that nobody believed me the first time. I know we're forever being told not to overcook vegetables but if you cook courgettes for as long as I say then Jamie Oliver won’t break down your door and take you away for questioning. Really, that hardly ever happens.

So here's how to produce tasty, healthy dips and a different sort of mash with that courgette mountain.
Courgettes Separator 2

First cook your courgettes SLOWLY

This is the initial step for the recipes below but, if you want to keep things simple, just add a few herbs or other flavourings, cook uncovered a little longer to reduce the liquid content and you'll have a fine vegetable side dish in its own right.

This is all you need to do. Clean, top and tail the courgettes, then slice quite thinly. Put them into a large saucepan with a little salt and pepper and a splash of water. Place on a low heat, cover and cook slowly, stirring regularly until the courgettes have completely softened and collapsed, which could take anywhere between 45 and 70 minutes.

You can cook as many courgettes as you like in this way but, as a guide, start with a prepared weight of around 1 kilo for the dip and 500 g for the mash if you’re feeding 4.

To make the dipCourgette Dip

Cook 1 kilo of courgettes as above, then add the finely grated zest of a lemon to the collapsed courgettes together with a squeeze of the juice. The courgettes will almost certainly have produced a lot of liquid, so increase the heat and continue cooking and stirring without covering the pan until the mixture has thickened to your liking. Take off the heat.

Stir in a generous amount of chopped fresh herbs. I usually add mint but other herbs work well too. Basil, dill (thanks for the suggestion Ozlem) and lemon balm are good alternatives and a scattering of chives with the other herbs will be no bad thing. Taste and stir in extra seasoning if it needs some. Add more lemon juice if the flavours need a lift and a drop or two of honey if it tastes too sharp. Cool and store in the fridge until needed.

Shortly before serving take the dip out of the fridge and allow it to come close to room temperature. Sprinkle with a little paprika just before serving and, if you're OK with adding a little fat, drizzle over some olive oil or, even better, lemon-infused olive oil. On the other hand, if you’re trying to stay very low fat then you could try a tiny drizzle of an infused vinegar instead - pomegranate or lemongrass would work well.

To make the mash


Courgette and Potato Mash

Alongside the 500 g of courgettes, you'll need:

700 g potatoes (one that’s good for mashing), peeled and cut into chunks
2 tsp capers, rinsed, drained and finely chopped
Small handful mint leaves
3 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
½ tsp Dijon mustard
A generous squeeze of lemon juice
A pinch of sugar

You can use other herbs and flavourings in this side dish too but a minty mash is just perfect with lamb or lamb sausages. It's not at all bad with chicken either. You don't have to be too precise about the amounts, it's just down to what you fancy.

Cook the courgettes as above until they've collapsed. Stir in the chopped capers, take the lid off the saucepan and increase the heat. Continue cooking and stirring until the mixture has thickened to a purée. Don’t worry about little pieces of courgettes in the purée, they’ll look good in the mash.

Put the mint leaves, olive oil, mustard, lemon juice and sugar in a blender and whizz until very smooth.

Steam or boil the potatoes until soft, then mash them. Stir the courgette purée into the mash and add the mint oil mixture a little at a time until you get a pleasing flavour (you may not want to use it all). Adjust the seasoning, reheat gently and serve.

Courgettes Separator 2

I must stop burbling on now because my wife has just returned from a trip into the garden.
Courgettes 5

Sunday, 6 August 2017

Welsh Honey and Dried Rosemary Lamb

This flavouring paste (or rub, if you prefer) is based on an old, perhaps even ancient, Welsh method for flavouring lamb. I used it a lot back in the 1980s and I was reminded of it when I visited Anglesey a few years ago. The sight of fine Anglesey honey for sale made me crave the intense flavour of this dish once again.

When I was young and easily-led, I used to listen to TV cooks telling me not to use dried herbs because fresh herbs are always better. I remember one of those cooks saying that if we needed proof, then we should try making mint sauce with dried mint and see how horrible it is. Years later I came across cooks choosing dried rather than fresh mint to flavour some very fine dishes and realised that dried herbs are different but by no means always inferior. You just need to use them in the right dish.

To be fair to those ancient TV cooks, though, there are certain dried herbs such as basil or parsley that really don't seem to work at all. And so what, you may ask, would be the point of drying rosemary when you can pick fresh leaves all year round? Well, this dish is the point of dried rosemary for me. Of course, you can use fresh rosemary in this recipe and very nice it is too, but it really isn't quite as good or as intense in my opinion. If you happen to have a little spare rosemary, then try drying some. It's easy to do, just hang some lengthy shoots of rosemary up somewhere airy and dry for a while. (Sorry that the picture below is rubbish - it was dark and I was hungry.)
Lamb Rasted With Honey 2
Of course, you can use any runny honey for this dish if you can't get to Anglesey, although, if you do get the chance, then it's a place that's well worth a visit. Or if you ever happen to be passing by the Welsh Food Centre in Bodnant, then don't pass by. Go in. You're very unlikely to regret it and they're almost certain to have plenty of local honey and lovely Welsh lamb for sale.
Beaumaris
I used this paste on lamb shoulder on this occasion but it's just as good on leg or whatever cut you prefer. This should give you enough for a half shoulder or a piece of lamb for at least 2 people. Scale up as needed and, if in doubt, be generous with the amount of paste.

1½ - 2 tbsp dried rosemary
½ tsp sea salt flakes (from Anglesey ideally)
½ tsp black peppercorns
½  tsp ground ginger
1 large or 2 small cloves of garlic, peeled
½ tbsp olive or rapeseed oil
Squeeze of lemon juice
2 tbsp runny honey plus an extra 1 tbsp for drizzling
Half shoulder of lamb

Pound the rosemary, salt and peppercorns in a pestle and mortar until reduced near enough to a powder. Add the ground ginger and pound in the garlic. Stir in the oil, lemon juice and the honey. You should have a thickish paste. Rub this over the lamb and leave in the fridge for a few hours or overnight.

Place the lamb in a roasting tin, drizzle over the additional tablespoon of honey and roast until done to your liking. It's a good idea to line the roasting tin with some foil - roasted honey can be very difficult to wash off. I prefer to roast the lamb at quite a low temperature, so for a half shoulder that’s about 80 minutes at 150ºC, but use whatever time you prefer or would be suitable for the cut of lamb you've chosen.

Allow the lamb to rest before serving. I think it's best kept simple with something like green veg and boiled potatoes but I've got nothing against gravy if you'd prefer to make some.

Wednesday, 5 July 2017

Visitandines

When I first came across visitandines I imagined that the name came from the fact that they were the perfect little cakes to take on a visit. That just proves how dumb I can be. In fact the cakes were first produced by nuns of the Ordre de la Visitation which was founded in the 17th century in Annecy. I have to admit that my knowledge of nuns is sketchy to say the least.

The cakes are very similar to financiers but have probably been round a fair bit longer. The key difference is that one is made by pious, peaceful nuns and the other is made for bankers who'd rather have their cake and eat it.

Some visitandine recipes call for browned butter (beurre noisette) and that will give the cakes a very fine flavour, although I think it makes the cakes taste a little too similar to some traditional madeleines. You may prefer them that way, though, so don't let me stop you.
Visitandines
Visitandines are commonly baked in barquette moulds but small, round muffin tins will work very well and may even be more traditional. This will make around 12 cakes, depending on the size of the tins. They keep well in an airtight container.

125 g plain flour, sifted
225 g golden caster sugar
100 g ground almonds
Very finely grated zest of 1 lemon
125 g very soft unsalted butter
200 g egg whites (or around 5 large egg whites)

Preheat the oven to 180°C.

Mix together the flour, sugar, ground almonds and lemon zest in a bowl. Stir in the very soft (and I do mean very soft) butter thoroughly. Don't beat the mixture so much that the almonds become oily, though.

Whisk the egg whites until they form firm peaks. Stir a couple of tablespoons of the egg whites into the mixture until it comes together and is reasonably smooth. Fold in the rest of the egg whites.

Spoon into the tins and bake for about 15 minutes or until a knife blade come out clean and the cakes have taken on a little colour.
Visitandines
Funnily enough visitandines are very good for taking on a visit (or a picnic or country walk) and piety is entirely optional.

Thursday, 22 June 2017

Fennel Ketchup or It Might Be A Sauce

Every now and then I find that I'm tempted to use certain flavours more and more often until they become a bit of an obsession. Fennel has been a bit like that for me in recent times. This ketchup definitely satisfies the fennel craving with a serious hit of flavour.

I'm not sure that this is truly a ketchup and I've probably used it more often as a sauce for chicken, pork or seafood combined with pasta or rice. It's made using the same technique as a ketchup but with less vinegar and sugar than you might expect. As a result, it won't keep as long as a typical ketchup, so store it in the fridge if you're using it in the next few days, or freeze it if you need to keep it longer.
Fennel Ketchup
This makes around 350 ml of ketchup or 3 to 4 portions if used as a sauce.

1 onion (I like to use red onions in pickles and ketchups but it’s not really critical)
1 bulb of fennel
2 cloves of garlic (3 if they’re small)
¼ - ½ chilli (depending on how hot the chilli turns out to be)
1 tsp fennel seeds
A few turns of black pepper
¼ tsp salt
75 ml cider vinegar
1 tin of tomatoes (400 g)
15 - 30 g granulated sugar

Peel and chop the onion into small chunks. Cut out and discard any damaged or woody parts of the fennel and chop the remainder into small chunks or slices. Peel and finely chop the garlic. Finely chop the chilli.

Put all the ingredients except the sugar into a non-reactive pan (one with a lid), place on the heat and bring to simmering point. Cover the pan and leave to simmer gently for about 40 minutes until the fennel and onion are tender. Allow the mixture to cool a little then liquidise it. Pass the contents of the liquidiser through a fine sieve. 

Pour the liquid back into the cleaned pan and add a tablespoon of the sugar. Place the pan on the heat and stir until the sugar has dissolved. Taste and add more sugar if you think it needs it. Once the balance of sweet and sour is the way you like it, simmer the ketchup gently until it's as thick as you want it to be. I prefer to keep the ketchup on the thin side because I think it's more adaptable that way but if you want it to top burgers or something of that nature, then it's better to thicken it a little more. Whatever you do, though, make sure that you stir frequently at this stage because the mixture is quite keen on sticking to the bottom of the pan if you don't.

Place in suitable containers and either store in the fridge or freeze. Try it simply with whatever pasta you fancy, some cooked chicken or prawns and a sprinkling of parmesan.
Pasta With Chicken and Fennel Ketchup

Monday, 22 May 2017

Salade Polletaise

OK, I admit that some people would rather eat gravel than herrings but I love the little silver darlings and this dish is my way of celebrating some of the excellent marinated herrings produced in the UK. At one time the marinades plonked on this poor little fish could be used as an alternative to paint stripper but the products from some of the smaller suppliers today are a completely different kettle of herring. (You could create your own marinated herring and that would be a wonderful thing to do but I'm assuming that time isn't hanging heavy on your hands.) For this salad you need a good quality marinated herring without any overly strong flavours. A simple dill or light mustard marinade would be perfect.
Salade Polletaise
This is actually a little offering from my Dieppe days. Le Pollet is the traditional fishermens’ quarter of Dieppe where old sea dogs sit mending their nets and telling colourful tales of life on the unforgiving sea. Actually, it may have been like that once when Walter Sickert prowled the area with paintbrush in hand and a lustful glint in his eye but those days are long gone.

The traditional food associated with Le Pollet is a dish of herring and potatoes. There's nothing wrong with that simple combination but you'll find much more elaborate versions of the salade in the upmarket restaurants and hotels around Dieppe. This is my attempt at a more refined but still straightforward version. You'll need a vinaigrette, some new potatoes, some marinated herring, chicory (or endive, if you prefer a more French sounding name), apple and some chives and parsley. I think it makes a very pleasing and, hopefully, impressive starter or lunch dish for remarkably little effort. I haven't given precise quantities here, because it's better to decide on the balance of flavours and amounts according to your personal taste and the size of appetites you're faced with.
Dieppe Collage
First make a vinaigrette using the usual proportions of 3 to 1 oil to white wine vinegar with a little salt and pepper and for this dish add a small amount of Dijon mustard to the mixture. I use a combination of light olive and rapeseed oil but any neutral oil would do the job. It's probably sensible to make a little more vinaigrette than you think you might need, because warm potatoes have an impressive ability to soak it up.

Boil or steam some new potatoes. In Dieppe they'd probably be Ratte or Charlotte but if Jersey Royals are in season then I would use them. You don't have to peel them but I definitely would. Once they're cooked and as soon as they're cool enough for you to handle without damaging your fingers, slice them into rounds or small chunks and pour over some of the vinaigrette. Leave to cool.

Slice some chicory quite finely. (You could use another salad leaf if chicory isn't available but it should be reasonably crisp and just a little on the bitter side). Peel a crisp, eating apple or two, cut into smallish dice, place in a bowl with the chicory and mix in more of the vinaigrette. (Don't leave the apple sitting around too long without dressing or it will lose its youthful looks). Chop a generous number of chives together with a little parsley if you have some.

Now you just need to combine the lot. I make it into a fancy little stack but you really don't have to do that unless you're desperate to impress someone. Arrange a layer of potatoes, top with some of the herring that you've drained and cut into bite-sized pieces. Add a layer of the chicory and apple mix and sprinkle over some of the chopped dill and parsley. Don't overdo the amount of apple and chicory in the final dish or it might swamp the other flavours. If you were in Dieppe you'd probably get some baguette with this but I must admit that I prefer a slice or two of buttered wheaten bread.
Pommeau
If you want to get the whole experience then try a small glass of Pommeau as an aperitif and maybe even a little Normandy cider alongside the dish. You could also imagine that you're sitting in a restaurant on the Quai and hummng a De Palmas tune. (Sorry, I got a bit carried away for a moment there.)