Turbot Charged with Fennel, Tarragon and Vermouth

Moxon's in Clapham South must have known we were coming... why else after a hard day's cycling to and from Greenwich in the rain, would they sell us a whole turbot for a tenner! Admittedly it was only small. But special nonetheless. If Santa punishes boys who have been naughty with lumps of coal, the fishmonger Gods reward energetic cyclists with stunning fish.

Giddy with excitement we rushed back with our precious cargo and brainstormed our approach. We plundered our ever growing library of cooking books for ideas and then set off to Balham to get the rest of our goodies. As ever, we used the books more for ideas to adapt rather than recipes to follow slavishly as you'll se below.





Having named our turbot, Timmy, we decided he'd taste good with an aniseedy assault. So we roasted a bulb of fennel in salt and olive oil with a roughly chopped bulb of onion and a couple of whole garlic cloves. These softened and sweetened for 15 minutes before we added our turbot which had been seasoned and covered in herbs from Cowie's garden. Plenty of chopped thyme, marjoram, fennel frills and tarragon found their way into the crevices our fishmonger had cut.





We poured over a trickle of vermouth and a large glass of dry white wine and a glug of olive oil before covering with foil and roasting in the oven for 25 minutes. Wafts of aniseed and sophistication enveloped the kitchen. A neighbour even leaned over the garden fence and asked what we were cooking! What emerged from the oven was so good I've had to censor the photograph.



The flesh parted company with the skin and the bones with such ease and stayed firm that I almost rang up Rick Stein and Richard Corrigan to do a little bit of boasting!

The subtle multi faceted aniseedy notes were so much fun. They mellowed and combined to give a herby backdrop that acted as a podium for the turbot to strut its stuff on. The onion and fennel had become soft and sweet having absorbed the turbot juice and plenty of white wine.

The turbot was treated to an introduction by and accompaniment of Ottolenghi dishes which you can see below...



Peach, feta and parma ham salad for starter with Nudo mandarin oil dressing



Fregola with goodies (if anyone has any suggestions for what to cook with this we'd love to know!)



Beans and mange tout with roasted hazelnuts



Aubergine with parsley, garlic and olive oil

It was a fabulous meal that was perhaps a touch more indulgent than we had planned. It certainly made me understand why someone would want to go to war over a turbot.

Balham - Comings and Goings

New restaurants and foodie ventures are popping up around Balham like zits after a bath in engine oil. It's only adding to the much derided claims that Balham is becoming the new Notting Hill. What more would you expect from an area that is the birthplace of Ainsley Harriot.

Following the recent opening of Light of Gurkha, Balham has now been blessed with a new Italian restaurant called Locale which "offers comfortable dining in an intimate atmosphere with a warm feel." It looks pretty decent and can be found a short walk to the south of Balham station.



Nearby, the Blue Pumpkin has closed. Boo.



But, wipe away that tear, because "The French Cafe" is taking its place...



Almost without us realising it, Meze has appeared opposite Paddyfield with initial reports suggesting it's "pretty good".



But most excitingly, Chadwick's has moved locations so that it can be closer to Cowie's house. We've become big fans of their meat, in particular their lamb and chicken. Their new site, opposite Waitrose, is far more spacious allowing them to exhibit their amazing carcasses in a special cabinet at the back which I had to be forcibly dragged away from!



Well done Balham. We're looking forward to seeing what happens next. In an ideal world an awesome coffee shop/bakers/deli would open next to Holy Cow... fingers crossed. Just so long as it's not an Ainsley Harriot noodle bar.

South West Adventure - Help Wanted

Photo from kandyjaxx from Flickr via Creative Commons

Cowie and I are getting very excited about our summer holidays. We are keeping it local this year and praying for sunshine! We are going on a road trip starting in Somerset and exploring Cornwall, Devon and West Dorset staying in BnBs and putting our tent up to cut the costs.

I've made a little map to plot our intended route. The plan is to drive down to St. Ives and then make our way around to Falmouth, Fowey, Salcombe and then back to Cowie's parents' house via River Cottage.



We've got a few places lined up for good food and interesting adventures, such as the Porthminster Cafe and the Gurnard's Head in St. Ives and Sunday lunch at River Cottage HQ. But what we'd love is any advice you've got, particularly concerning Falmouth, Fowey and Salcombe. We'd hate to miss out on a treat somewhere. Do you know any amazing restaurants, cafes, camp sites, fishmongers, tea shops, walks, golf courses etc. that will turn our holiday into a memorable adventure?

Also, we're really keen to cook some fun stuff on our BBQ whilst we're camping. In the past we've got carried away and tucked into lobster, skate knobs and oriental steamed sea bream followed by a "muffin orange".



So if you've got any exciting ideas for camp site gastronomy let us know as well! Lizzie has already suggested: "How about fish in a biscuit tin with wood chippings? Or burying meat in hay and setting fire to the hay?"

We'd love your help. Thank you.

Squirrel au Vin

Rad has been putting his air rifle to good use. The irritation of squirrels eating his lovingly nurtured fruit and veg got too much and resulted in me receiving a very unusual text message that read:

“I’ve shot a squirrel! Fancy coming over tonight to help me cook it?”

Feeling a bit like Batman responding to Commissioner Gordon’s urgent phone call, I notified Alfred (AKA Cowie) and jumped into our Batmobile (Peugeot 206) armed with a camera and a few ideas for squirrel recipes.

Inspired by Hugh F-W, Rad had skinned the squirrel so all we had to do was butcher the meat and cook it.





The meat was firm, pink and very lean. It smelt fresh had a reassuring dryness. Early summer isn’t an ideal time to eat squirrel because they tend to be young and scrawny. The ideal squirrel is fattened by eating too many acorns and nuts and is far plumper.





After our hare experience, we decided that slow cooking was the way forward and opted for a bastardised version of the classic coq au vin.

We fried some bacon, onions, garlic, carrots, mushrooms and celery and added them to a casserole dish.



Then we browned the squirrel meat and deglazed the pan with red wine…



… and poured it all into the casserole.



It bubbled away for several hours before being deemed ready to eat. Sadly, Cowie and I had to return to the Batcave and never got to taste it. Rad thought the flavours overwhelmed the squirrel which is a shame. So next time we might do a squirrel roast and serve it (appropriately) with a cherry sauce as Ollie has suggested on Rad’s blog.

I’m now keen for Rad to shoot a few pigeons so we can make Moroccan Pastilla.

All the amazing square photos are from Rad's brilliant blog.

Cowi-lenghi

As sad as it may sound, salads really do excite me. When made properly they ooze creativity and can be as saintly or sinful as you like. Salads are vastly underrated and whilst the sun is shining its little heart out during these summer months, Browny and I have decided to embrace the noble salad for what its worth.

Whether a salad is hot or cold, meaty or fishy, full of grains or pulses, veg or fruit, spicy or cooling, for me, the combination of freshness, lightness, differing flavours and textures can only be a good thing. Plus if you're lucky, if you delve the serving tongs into the bottom of the salad bowl, token goodies will always come out of hiding.

It was a glorious sunny Friday lunchtime when I was introduced into the world of Ottolengi. How on earth had I a) not heard of this venture before and b) why hadn’t I feasted my taste buds on their fantastic grub until now!

As I walked into Ottolenghi on Motcombe Street in Belgravia my eyes were on stalks as I took in all the marvels in front of me, not to mention the incredible but wicked looking pastries, bakes and meringues. On this occasion I was so absorbed by the food I ordered a majority of the salad selection in front of me, plus a delightful and tasty salmon kebab, the bill was embarrassingly large, especially owing to the fact that I wasn’t paying.

I craved more Ottolenghi action and wasted no time in ordering their superb cook book. We were in for a treat. With my new book in hand I trawled Sainsbury’s to find all the vital ingredients... this was only 60% successful and was tipped off by Helen that the recipes must be followed word for word. To accompany two delicious rainbow trout I decided a selection of salads would work nicely. Once I had finally decided which salads to prepare I set to work on supper.

Now, its fair to say that I am somewhat of a nerd when it comes to a tidy kitchen and spotless work surfaces. If I have finished using a knife.. I wash it up. If I have chopped up an onion, I put the remnants and its skins straight into the bin.. But not on this occasion. The Ottolengi recipes require so many processes and ingredients to create the tasty wonders, my kitchen looked like a child’s playroom in no time. But it was so worth it. Here is the evidence:





Scorched broccoli with nuts, garlic and chilli



Pomegranate, fennel and goats cheese salad



Bulgar wheat with orange zest and tomato



Aubergine salad with pomegranate, spinach and saffron yoghurt



Baked trout with lemon and herbs

I urge everyone to go out a buy this beauty. It’s exciting, different, creative and believe or not, healthy!

Tandoori Chicken

Every time we visit Cowie's parents is another excuse/opportunity to experiment with Cassius, our clay oven. It has excelled at cooking pizza and roast lamb so we thought we'd see how it coped with tandoori chicken.

We took inspiration from Madhur Jaffrey's recipe and just added more fire. The basic idea is to create a marinade from greek yoghurt, lime, garam masala, chilli, ginger, garlic and coriander. You blitz this together, add some salt and allow the marinade to tenderise the meat and penetrate the flesh with the Indian flavours. About 3 hours will do the trick, but over night is ever better.

Given that we were catering for 10 we needed 3 chickens so we had to par-cook the legs and wings in the aga and blasted the breasts in the Cassius when he was at full heat. We've not been able to measure the temperature yet, but it is way hotter than any oven I've ever used.

The breasts cooked in about 15-20 minutes. They emerged with a charred, spicy crust and dripping with moisture inside. It's a great technique. It wasn't a bad result given that it was our first attempt. Next time I'm going to add more chilli to the marinade and make some naans.





What shall we cook in Cassius next?

Hare Three Ways

When a friend rings you up with the news that he's shot a hare and it's got your name on it you don't mess around. Plans were cancelled, holidays were put on hold and Cowie's kitchen was annexed for a marathon hare cook off.

Rad had shot the hare in Angelsey with his new air rifle and prepared the beast with the help of Nick who knows everything there is to know about country pursuits. It was huge. I hadn't braced myself for how large it was going to be. We spread it out and inspected it meticulously, marvelling at the tightness and definition of the muscles. The flesh was firm, almost hard to the touch.



We decided to experiment with a range of options that would be best suited to the different cuts of meat. We decided to make a ragout out of the back legs, roast the saddle and make a pate out of the front legs and leftovers.

We took inspiration from Cook it Simply for the pate. Simply throw the front legs and any leftover carcass into a stock pot and simmer with stock vegetables, bay, peppercorns and juniper berries until the meat comes away from the bones. This took around 3 or 4 hours. Then remove the legs and let them cool before stripping the meat from the bones.



Then saute some mushrooms in plenty of butter until they've coloured before throwing in a combustible glug of cognac. Stand back and enjoy the flames. Toss in some garlic and allow it to soften as well. Then soak some bread in milk and add it to the mushrooms along with the hare meat with some herbs such as thyme and parsley. Blitz this all together and add some butter and some of the leftover stock to loosen.

Season aggressively and then spoon into ramekins and chill. Serve with buttered toast and a glass of something cold, light and preferably with a hint of sugar. We were amazed that we managed to fill 6 ramekins worth of pate. It was deep, gamey, smooth and incredibly satisfying. We felt like we'd made something beautiful out of nothing.



The ragout was even more of a success. We followed Thomasina Miers's recipe from her Wild Gourmet's book with a great deal of success and a number of modifications.



First, we browned the hare legs in a pan having dusted them in seasoned flour and then tossed them into the slow cooker.



Then we sauted carrots, onions, garlic and celery until softened before adding tomato puree and 2 tins of chopped tomatoes.



We let this simmer and then lobbed it into the pot. Then we poured in some red wine, gave a pepper grinder a work out and added a couple of attractive bay leaves. As the final touch we placed a couple of squares of fine, dark chocolate on the surface and watched it melt as the liquid heated up. 7 hours later the meat began to yield. It started to tease away from the bone. Given that it was about 3 am at this point I separated the meat from the sauce and popped them in the fridge. The flavours developed overnight, as the always do, to leave us with a complex, deep sauce and meat that was shaping up to be pretty special.



We shredded the meat and poured the sauce into a pan with a large spoonful of redcurrant jelly, a splash more red wine and some more tomatoes. It resuscitated brilliantly and came alive with the additional sugar. We served it with tagliatelle and some roasted baby tomatoes. It was a huge amount of effort. But worth every ounce of effort. It's one of the best pasta dishes I've ever eaten. The meat reminded me of oxtail and the sauce had a sheen that Mr. Muscle would be proud of.



The final edition in our hare trilogy was the simplest but arguably, the least effective. We marinated the saddle in olive oil, juniper berries, lemon zest, parsley and garlic for several hours...







... and then wrapped it in foil and roasted it on the BBQ.



It promised a huge amount and smelled amazing. Whilst it was good, it wasn't quite as amazing as we had hoped. But to be honest we had eaten a lot of hare at this point. I had naively expected it to be like eating a rare piece of pigeon breast, but it was quite a lot tougher.

So next time you get your hands on a hare, make sure you have as much fun with it as we did. Next time we're going to ensure we keep the blood so we can do some jugging... I've come away from this adventure with enormous respect for the mighty hare.

Thank you Rad for a brilliant weekend of hare related fun and games. (And photos). Check out Rad's blog for more details... and a forthcoming recipe for "Wandsworth Common Squirrel"...

Japonica

Cowie's parents' have got a wonderful Japonica plant that produces very attractive green and red fruit speckled with white dots. I've been told that it is part of the quince family and therefore could be suitable for making jelly. When I heard this I got pretty excited and thought I'd do some research before I went off half cocked and poisoned people...

Does anyone know if:

a. ... the fruit in the picture is a Japonica
b. ... it is edible
c. ... I can make jelly out of them
d. ... there are any other recipes that we can try

If you can help I'd be hugely appreciative. Thanks.

Dining with Dos Hermanos at Casa Brindisa

Our evening with Dos Hermons at Casa Brindisa was a lot of fun. We feasted on the best food and booze that Spain and Jose Pizarro has to offer. We took over the whole restaurant and lapped up the procession of speeches from the assorted Spanish gourmet experts that punctuated our banquet. It's a great model for an indulgent gastronomic night out.

We started with some Manzanilla Pasada sherry, bright green Gordal olives and salted almonds which were quickly followed by some soggy bread topped with tomatoes.



Smoked and salted anchovies were a revelation. The smoked version was particularly impressive. I would be tempted to serve them at the start of an informal dinner party, or with some crunchy bread and a glass of chilled sherry.



Jamon was sinfully good. We learnt how the curing process is designed to mimic the ebb and flow of the seasons and can last for many years. This jamon was sweet, savoury, salty and plated seductively. There are few things in life more pleasurable than scoffing this stuff. There was almost a fight on our table as we all tried to guzzle more than our fair share!



Croquetas were sensational. The crispy balls were stuffed with creamy, salty cod bechamel, whilst the sausage shaped one held little jewels of jamon. I wish I could eat these all day.



Fritatta was solid. Literally. And could have done with an extra whisker of seasoning. It was perfectly decent, but nowhere near as exciting as the other dishes.



Enormous prawns a la plancha promised to be heavenly. But despite their juiciness, they lacked the flavour I was expecting. A twist of salt and pepper fixed this pretty quickly.



Sea bass with morcilla de Burgos and piquillo peppers was a great combination of deep, porkiness and soft, flaky fish. The subtle spice from the crumbly sausage mixed with irridescent white flesh is one of my favourite combinations. If I was cooking it I'd be tempted to dial up the smoky paprika spice.



Pork tenderloin dusted with paprika was a shadow of what it could have been. It was a bit dry and for want of a more descriptive expression, dull.



Pulpo a la Gallega was excellent. A real star. The flesh was tender and the flavours vivid. It was a cracking dish. I am fast becoming a squid and octopus lover.



A tempura of artisan Monte Enebro goat's cheese dressed with orange blossom honey was awesome. It's a great way of bypassing the issue of whether to have pudding or cheese first. Just combine them! A crema Catalana was deliciously sweet and creamy. A fine end to a fun evening.

It was a real treat to scoff such high class Spanish food amongst friends who as keen on putting good stuff in their mouth as I am. Whilst I don't think I'll ever be a regular at Brindisa's restaurants (due to location), I am keen to buy their goodies to cook at home. I've got my eye on their pork loin marinated in paprika. Thank you Simon for organising such a fun event. And good luck with future Dine with Dos Hermanos events.

For other write ups see:

Dinner Diaries
Dos Hermanos
Gastro Geek
Silverbrow on Food

Light of Gurkha, Balham

We're spoilt in Balham by the Holy Cow. Their curries come up trumps time and time again. I often make the short walk to pick up our food just so I can see the chefs in action as they knock out hundreds of dishes a night. Their lamb achari never fails to wow me. The only problem is, you can't eat in.

And that's where the Light of Gurkha comes in. It has taken up where Nanglo left off. The site has been given a fabulous makeover and is now bedecked with pink upholstery and dark wood that make it seem more like a Virgin Atlantic departures lounge rather than a Nepalese curry house. They have copied the smoking area from the Clarence next door to great effect. It gives the space at the back a purpose. A lot of care (and money) has been invested in bringing this restaurant back to life. And it has worked.

Feeling ravenous after Cowie's triathlon (supporting is hard work too!) we didn't hold back. Tandoori chicken and lamb chops were fantastic starters. The meat was juicy in the middle and crusted with charred spices on the outside. It has inspired us to give them a go in our clay oven. Maybe if we ask them nicely they will give us the recipe...

Cowie's chicken saag was delicious. The iron in the spinach seemed pretty appropriate given Cowie's athletic exertions earlier in the day. A smokey aubergine dish was just as good and has been earmarked for future consumption.

I decided to benchmark their lamb achari against the Holy Cow's where the slow cooked shoulder meat yields and melts like lamby butter. Here, the achari was sharper with a flavour that is very similar to the lime pickle you load onto your popadom. This is far from surprising, given that the dish is based on "achar" which is a way of pickling vegetables in oil. I'm in no position to say whether the Light of Gurkha or the Holy Cow serves a more authentic lamb achari. My hunch is that the Light of Gurkha might be more true to its roots because it has a punchier taste profile than the more rounded version from across the road. They are both good. They are both different. And if push came to shove I'd side with the Holy Cow.

Spiced pumpkin had the potential to be fabulous, but could have done with being cooked until the flesh was more tender and the flavour had a chance to explore its potential.

The service was excellent. We'd heard that they had a few problems with their first batch of staff, but these teething problems seemed to be ironed out now. Whilst it wasn't packed, the people around us were all murmuring contentedly about how impressed they were with the food. I've got a feeling The Light of Gurkha is going to become our regular curry house and am excited about them guiding me through the world of Nepalese food.

The Light of Gurkha,
88 Balham High Road,
SW12 9AG,
02086734160

The Company Shed, West Mersea

We arrived at The Company Shed in West Mersea at 11.30am on a bright but cloudy Saturday, having managed to navigate our way across the tidal pass. We were immediately struck by the “other-worldly” feel of the island – every other house seemed to be either having a yard sale or was a boat that had got lost and decided it preferred a less nautical life.

We put our names down on the list and waited with an assortment of grannies and fellow piscine tourists. We waited for an hour and a half as elderly women pushed past us and hyperactive tourists tried to queue jump. I couldn’t stand the tense atmosphere so left Cowie to stand firm as I went snooping around the back where they boil the lobsters and crab. My chat with the crab boiler was quite revealing.



I had, naively, assumed that all the seafood was fiercely local. So when I heard that the razor clams and scallops are from Scotland, the mussels are from New Zealand, the prawns are from India and Madagascar, the crabs are from Devon and the lobsters are often from Canada I was, to put it mildly, surprised. The fish is all local, as are the oysters. I was given a guided tour of their lobster tanks and marvelled at the iridescent blue coat of the English lobsters which made the Canadian imposters seem very drab in their brown jackets.









Another half an hour past before Cowie led the charge. Tired of seeing groups of four pushing past us we commandeered our table and watched the group who tried to leapfrog us weasel off with their tales between your legs. We did the honourable thing and ordered as much seafood as our formica covered table could hold. It required us to jettison the water, wine and salad to the floor in order to make space for the good stuff.

Our seafood platter for four was sensational. Whelks, prawns with their shells on and off, langoustine, crab and green lipped mussels adorned our table.









The crab was particularly good. Sweet, meaty and full of depth – it was majestic. And only let down by the mayonnaise which, whilst not being bad, didn’t cut the mustard. We longed for the rich, yellow gunge that the savvy table next door had brought along - our fault for not being prepared.

A plate of gigas rock oysters from Richard Haward’s oyster beds caused a stir. Anna had only ever had one oyster before and Edwin has a passionate hatred of them, for no other reason than he has never eaten them before. Anna devoured her second ever oyster with enough gusto to convince Edwin to have a crack too. But judging by the look of shock and disgust on his face, he is unlikely to come back for more. Which is good news for the rest of us! They were creamy and tasted unmistakably of the sea. Natives, rather than rocks, are served when the orbs are aligned.



We shared half of an English lobster which was so amazing it almost made me stand up and shout “Bravo! Encore!” Thank God I didn’t. Not only would it have been one of the most embarrassing moments of my life, but it would have also added £14 to our bill! But seafood this good has narcotic powers.



Tangerine, orange smoked salmon and less garish smoked mackerel were decent, but not in the same league as their shelled cousins.



A bowl of poor man’s asparagus was sensational. It added texture, seasoning and colour to our mixture of browns, beige and pink. On our pre-lunch, time killing seaside walk, we had spotted well grazed samphire plants sitting in pools of salty mud. It was a joy to tuck into something so local.



We loved our lunch – even more so because it only cost us £60. The atmosphere was fun and informal. And the seafood was deliciously un-messed around. Malden sea salt was at home in it's natural hunting ground, but, sadly, powdered black pepper and bland mayonnaise didn’t do the fish justice.

I arrived thinking that all the fish and seafood was going to be from local waters but the fact that it isn’t seems odd. I can't help feeling that seaside seafood sheds should be serving the stuff they've just caught, rather than flying it in from far flung corners of the world. Maybe this is very naive on my part. It's not going to stop us returning, armed with our own pepper mill, some fresh mayonnaise and a jar of shallot vinegar.



129 Coast Road
West Mersea
Essex
Tel 01206 382700

Spooning with Rosie - Book Launch

Brixton was at its best on Saturday. Buzzing with energy. Warm. Optimistic. And full of cheer. The market was bustling and Franco Manca had a queue the length of a how long I imagine a piece of string is. Wild Caper was overflowing with people and the sound track to Pretty Woman was blaring out of the hair dresser opposite the butcher on Electric Lane.

We pottered into Rosie's not knowing quite what to expect from the launch of Spooning with Rosie and settled down outside with a cup of tea and an espresso and realised that the world is a pretty cool place. We'd arrived just as Rosie, her Mum and the rest of her team were busy getting everything ready. So we landed up helping out by moving a few tables and chairs which just added to the charm.



Just as I was draining my coffee a cool looking woman with short dark hair wheeled along what looked like an old granny trolley and proceeded to set up a one man DJ stand playing the perfect Brixton book launch soundtrack.



We bought a book from Rosie's Mum and were delighted that Rosie signed it.





Apart from the fact that it's got one of the best titles ever to adorn a book, it's full of brilliant recipes that are loved by the locals who adore Rosie's Delic Cafe. What I love about it is the fact that it is clearly such a labour of love. It completely reflects Rosie's personality and is a joy to read. I've also falled head over heals for the illustraions and love the fact that it is based in Brixton. Favourite recipes include scrambled eggs with chilli sauce and all sorts of delicious risottos, pies and sandwiches. I've got my eye on quite a few recipes to try out. It's also inspired me to want to write a book.

We spent ages chatting, nibbling on incredible sandwiches made with ciabatta baked in Franco Manca's ovens and gorging ourseves on cupcakes. It's a brilliant place that is full of warmth and creativity. If you can show me a cafe that's better, I'd love to see it.







Rosie's website
Rosie's blog
Rosie on Twitter
Spooing with Rosie on Amazon