Hello everyone!
Yes, my project is over, and I would like to take the opportunity to thank some people who helped me out along the way.
Firstly, of course, is Nigella - for writing a wonderful book, full of great recipes and engaging prose. It was definitely worth it for me to devote a year of my life to cooking out of this book.
I have to give a special mention to the good folks at Rendinas butchery - the best beef in Balwyn!
I would also like to thank all my friends who have sampled my cooking throughout the year - especially Markii, Uncle Mike & Aunty Helen, Frances, Georgina, Adriana, An, Bonnie and Liam.
And of course there is everyone who has been keeping up with my blog and leaving me messages of encouragement - including, but not limited to Ilana, Lisa, Annauk, Randi, Niki, Gemma, Lotta, Julie, Meg, Snowdrop, Spot, Kirstendk, Rachelak, Foodcrazee, and Ange.
I'd like to especially thank my good friend DG, for hours of culinary discussion, encouragement, advice and general late night chats and e-mails to help me throughout this project.
Most importantly, I have to say thank-you to my family - Mum, Dad and Daniel - who have always supported and encouraged me, and without whom there would be no reason to cook.
Thank-you and goodnight!
xox Sarah
Showing posts sorted by date for query uncle mike. Sort by relevance Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by date for query uncle mike. Sort by relevance Show all posts
Monday, June 12, 2006
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
“Serves 4 fat bastards”
The choucroute garnie and syllabub form Nigella’s SERIOUS SATURDAY LUNCH FOR 8 – NO HOSTAGES. I added the crostini to the menu because I wanted to use up some gorgonzola which I had lying around.
338. Gorgonzola, Marsala and Mascarpone Crostini (Dinner)
339. Choucroute Garnie (Weekend Lunch)
340. Quince Syllabub (Cooking in Advance)
I have to admit, choucroute garnie, (AKA a big fat German stew), counts as one of those recipes which I’ve been avoiding due to, well, everything. I mean, it’s the pig-heavy ingredients (frankfurters, bratwurst, gammon knuckles), the fact that I’d have to do some special shopping to find them all, and simply because I couldn’t imagine what it would look like or taste like at all. Anthony Bourdain has a recipe (and photo!) of it in his fabulous Les Halles Cookbook, which gave me an idea of what it should be like, and eased my nerves a little bit. However, his recipe is different from Nigella's in that it's more cheffy (naturally) - he tells you to plate it up prettily, specifies smoked pork loin, salted pork belly and boudins blancs, and includes a duck confit and foie gras variation. Ahem. His recipe also has a lot more swearing in it. For instance, the Anthony Bourdain choucroute garnie "serves 4 fat bastards".
I finally made it last night, and served it up to some family friends who I knew would appreciate the effort, even if the food sucked.
We had Uncle Mike and Aunty Helen over, (who have had roast goose, Blakean fish pie, rhubarb crumble, steak & kidney pie and banana custard with us before), as well as Uncle Francis and Aunty Wendy. I haven’t cooked for them before, but they’re really, really cool. In fact, it was Uncle Francis who bought me How to Eat for my 21st birthday last year!
Ok, so here’s the meat. We got it all at Prahran market on Saturday. There’s bratwurst, frankfurters and some ham knuckles. I used less meat than Nigella suggests – she says it doesn’t matter how many sausages you use, as long as everyone can get a piece of each sausage. So you can use less and cut them into smaller pieces.
pile of meat
The choucroute garnie sounds fiddly, but doesn’t really involve that much effort. To start, I softened finely chopped onion in goosefat, then added carrots, the ham knuckles and a bouquet garni. Nigella says to use a popsock to make it, but I only have very very dark ones, and didn’t want a Bridget “dickhead” Jones blue soup happening. I just used a tea strainer.
bouquet garni
So you chuck the bouquet garni in the pot, then add sauerkraut, stir it up, top it with more goosefat, and let it simmer slowly for 2.5 hours.
Pot
While that was simmering, I made the syllabub. You’re supposed to make it a couple of days in advance, but I was short on time and did it all today. The recipe says to steep lemon zest and juice in the alcohol for a day, then strain it, before mixing it with cream and sugar and whipping it up. Once you’ve spooned the mixture into individual glasses, you can leave it in the fridge for 2-3 days. What I did was steep the lemon zest in the morning, and finish it off while the choucroute garnie was cooking. I used a mixture of rosé and quince liquer, which resulted in a lovely dusky pink mixture.
syllabub table
Next, I did the crostini topping, which just involves mixing gorgonzola, marsala and mascarpone (I actually used crème fraîche, because I already had some). This can be stashed in the fridge until it is needed. For the bread part of the crostini, you need to slice up a baguette, brush the little slices with olive oil, and toast them in the oven. They need to be cool before putting the topping on.
So all that was left to do was to boil some potatoes as an accompaniment, and to finish the choucroute garnie. In the recipe, Nigella says that you have to remove the ham knuckles and slice the meat off, but I found that after the 2.5 hours simmering, a gentle prod with a wooden spoon was all that was needed to remove the meat. Then I had to grill the bratwurst and add them to the chourcroute garnie with the frankfurters. 30 minutes gentle simmering later, and the sausages are all heated through and the choucroute garnie is done.
And it was dinner time!
Gorgonzola, Marsala and crème fraîche crostini
These were pretty good. Even my dad liked them, despite the includion of blue cheese.
choucroute garnie
Mmm... it smelled great, and tasted good too. It was pretty salty and sour, but not inedibly so. I think I was supposed to rinse the sauerkraut before adding it (well, Anthony Bourdain says to), but Nigella's recipe doesn't say to do so, so I didn't. If I were to make this again, I'd definitely rinse the sauerkraut. The stew was really rich and tasty - those frankfurters were delicious! I now understand why the German woman at the deli recommended them to me so enthusiastically.
As I said, the stew was really salty, but it went well with the bland potatoes - unbuttered boiled potatoes sprinkled with crushed juniper berries.
Potatoes
Uncle Mike: The potatoes are delicious!
We all ate 1-2 potatoes each, but Uncle Mike greedily ate at least 5 of them. Tsk tsk.
Plate
I brought out the syllabubs (or should that be syllabi?), after dinner, and they looked suitably impressive.
quince syllabi
Quince syllabub - check out the lovely pink colour!
It tasted good, despite the short steeping time. And they're good for dinner parties as they're easy, impressive, tasty, and can be made in advance.
After dinner, Uncle Francis had a flick through my How to Eat book...
Uncle Francis: I think we're going to have to book ourselves in for this "Deeply Autumnal Dinner for 8"... it sounds good... chestnut and pancetta salad, roast venison fillet...
Usually when I have my friends over, we watch DVDs after dinner, but tonight they pulled out a guitar and started playing. Aah, those wacky adults!
guitar time
338. Gorgonzola, Marsala and Mascarpone Crostini (Dinner)
339. Choucroute Garnie (Weekend Lunch)
340. Quince Syllabub (Cooking in Advance)
I have to admit, choucroute garnie, (AKA a big fat German stew), counts as one of those recipes which I’ve been avoiding due to, well, everything. I mean, it’s the pig-heavy ingredients (frankfurters, bratwurst, gammon knuckles), the fact that I’d have to do some special shopping to find them all, and simply because I couldn’t imagine what it would look like or taste like at all. Anthony Bourdain has a recipe (and photo!) of it in his fabulous Les Halles Cookbook, which gave me an idea of what it should be like, and eased my nerves a little bit. However, his recipe is different from Nigella's in that it's more cheffy (naturally) - he tells you to plate it up prettily, specifies smoked pork loin, salted pork belly and boudins blancs, and includes a duck confit and foie gras variation. Ahem. His recipe also has a lot more swearing in it. For instance, the Anthony Bourdain choucroute garnie "serves 4 fat bastards".
I finally made it last night, and served it up to some family friends who I knew would appreciate the effort, even if the food sucked.
We had Uncle Mike and Aunty Helen over, (who have had roast goose, Blakean fish pie, rhubarb crumble, steak & kidney pie and banana custard with us before), as well as Uncle Francis and Aunty Wendy. I haven’t cooked for them before, but they’re really, really cool. In fact, it was Uncle Francis who bought me How to Eat for my 21st birthday last year!
Ok, so here’s the meat. We got it all at Prahran market on Saturday. There’s bratwurst, frankfurters and some ham knuckles. I used less meat than Nigella suggests – she says it doesn’t matter how many sausages you use, as long as everyone can get a piece of each sausage. So you can use less and cut them into smaller pieces.
pile of meat
The choucroute garnie sounds fiddly, but doesn’t really involve that much effort. To start, I softened finely chopped onion in goosefat, then added carrots, the ham knuckles and a bouquet garni. Nigella says to use a popsock to make it, but I only have very very dark ones, and didn’t want a Bridget “dickhead” Jones blue soup happening. I just used a tea strainer.
bouquet garni
So you chuck the bouquet garni in the pot, then add sauerkraut, stir it up, top it with more goosefat, and let it simmer slowly for 2.5 hours.
Pot
While that was simmering, I made the syllabub. You’re supposed to make it a couple of days in advance, but I was short on time and did it all today. The recipe says to steep lemon zest and juice in the alcohol for a day, then strain it, before mixing it with cream and sugar and whipping it up. Once you’ve spooned the mixture into individual glasses, you can leave it in the fridge for 2-3 days. What I did was steep the lemon zest in the morning, and finish it off while the choucroute garnie was cooking. I used a mixture of rosé and quince liquer, which resulted in a lovely dusky pink mixture.
syllabub table
Next, I did the crostini topping, which just involves mixing gorgonzola, marsala and mascarpone (I actually used crème fraîche, because I already had some). This can be stashed in the fridge until it is needed. For the bread part of the crostini, you need to slice up a baguette, brush the little slices with olive oil, and toast them in the oven. They need to be cool before putting the topping on.
So all that was left to do was to boil some potatoes as an accompaniment, and to finish the choucroute garnie. In the recipe, Nigella says that you have to remove the ham knuckles and slice the meat off, but I found that after the 2.5 hours simmering, a gentle prod with a wooden spoon was all that was needed to remove the meat. Then I had to grill the bratwurst and add them to the chourcroute garnie with the frankfurters. 30 minutes gentle simmering later, and the sausages are all heated through and the choucroute garnie is done.
And it was dinner time!
Gorgonzola, Marsala and crème fraîche crostini
These were pretty good. Even my dad liked them, despite the includion of blue cheese.
choucroute garnie
Mmm... it smelled great, and tasted good too. It was pretty salty and sour, but not inedibly so. I think I was supposed to rinse the sauerkraut before adding it (well, Anthony Bourdain says to), but Nigella's recipe doesn't say to do so, so I didn't. If I were to make this again, I'd definitely rinse the sauerkraut. The stew was really rich and tasty - those frankfurters were delicious! I now understand why the German woman at the deli recommended them to me so enthusiastically.
As I said, the stew was really salty, but it went well with the bland potatoes - unbuttered boiled potatoes sprinkled with crushed juniper berries.
Potatoes
Uncle Mike: The potatoes are delicious!
We all ate 1-2 potatoes each, but Uncle Mike greedily ate at least 5 of them. Tsk tsk.
Plate
I brought out the syllabubs (or should that be syllabi?), after dinner, and they looked suitably impressive.
quince syllabi
Quince syllabub - check out the lovely pink colour!
It tasted good, despite the short steeping time. And they're good for dinner parties as they're easy, impressive, tasty, and can be made in advance.
After dinner, Uncle Francis had a flick through my How to Eat book...
Uncle Francis: I think we're going to have to book ourselves in for this "Deeply Autumnal Dinner for 8"... it sounds good... chestnut and pancetta salad, roast venison fillet...
Usually when I have my friends over, we watch DVDs after dinner, but tonight they pulled out a guitar and started playing. Aah, those wacky adults!
guitar time
Thursday, April 13, 2006
Elderflower Creams with Kiwiberries
330. Elderflower Cream with Gooseberries
Elderflower panna cotta with stewed gooseberries - it sounds like a very exotic and complex recipe, no? Something to take the whole day to slave over and then to serve up to a crowd of appreciative guests, all suitable impressed by your culinary prowess.
Well, it's not. And you'll just have to believe me when I tell you how pathetically easy it is to make. I basically made these in the morning, thinking "I may as well get through a recipe", and ate them late that night with my parents, for "a little something with coffee". Who knew it would turn out to be such a spectacular dessert!
The recipe is in the FOODS IN SEASON section of the Basics etc. chapter, and in it, Nigella naturally urges you to use fresh heads of elderflower, and steep them in warm cream to form the base of the dessert. However, I didn't know where to get fresh elderflower, and I couldn't even find elderflower cordial anywhere. Help was at hand though, when my friend DG pointed me in the direction of the Ashbolt Farm website. They're a Tasmanian farm who make, among other things, elderflower concentrate! So I ordered some bottles a few weeks ago, in preparation for making this.
So, to make the creams, you infuse some double cream with fresh elderflowers (or in my case, I used a 1:10 ratio of concentrate to cream), then add some sugar and stir it through. Then you soften some gelatine leaves in water, squeeze them out and whisk them into the cream. Finally, you pour them into clingfilm-lined teacups, and stash them in the fridge.
It took about 15 minutes in total (plus 30 minutes steeping time), and some basic stirring, pouring and whisking.
Here's what they looked like once set. Lining the cups with clingfilm makes them very easy to unmould.
set creams
The accompaniment is stewed gooseberries. You may remember that in December I had gooseberries with Uncle Mike and Aunty Helen, but I haven't seen them in the stores recently. I was planning on substituting with kiwi fruit, as they taste pretty similar to gooseberries. However, last week I found these little babies at Coles - kiwiberries! They're like kiwi fruit in the shape of a berry. Perfect!
kiwiberries
So I treated these just like Nigella does the gooseberries - cooking them on a medium heat with sugar and water, and then reducing the syrup to thicken it.
kiwiberries
Once that's done, you can eat!
beautiful!
The elderflower creams were incredibly beautiful! And the combination of sweet, smooth, softly-set elderflower cream and sharp kiwiberries was fantastic. It was so simple to make, but tasted brilliant. I'd be ecstatic if I received something like this in a restaurant. It was just gorgeous.
Elderflower panna cotta with stewed gooseberries - it sounds like a very exotic and complex recipe, no? Something to take the whole day to slave over and then to serve up to a crowd of appreciative guests, all suitable impressed by your culinary prowess.
Well, it's not. And you'll just have to believe me when I tell you how pathetically easy it is to make. I basically made these in the morning, thinking "I may as well get through a recipe", and ate them late that night with my parents, for "a little something with coffee". Who knew it would turn out to be such a spectacular dessert!
The recipe is in the FOODS IN SEASON section of the Basics etc. chapter, and in it, Nigella naturally urges you to use fresh heads of elderflower, and steep them in warm cream to form the base of the dessert. However, I didn't know where to get fresh elderflower, and I couldn't even find elderflower cordial anywhere. Help was at hand though, when my friend DG pointed me in the direction of the Ashbolt Farm website. They're a Tasmanian farm who make, among other things, elderflower concentrate! So I ordered some bottles a few weeks ago, in preparation for making this.
So, to make the creams, you infuse some double cream with fresh elderflowers (or in my case, I used a 1:10 ratio of concentrate to cream), then add some sugar and stir it through. Then you soften some gelatine leaves in water, squeeze them out and whisk them into the cream. Finally, you pour them into clingfilm-lined teacups, and stash them in the fridge.
It took about 15 minutes in total (plus 30 minutes steeping time), and some basic stirring, pouring and whisking.
Here's what they looked like once set. Lining the cups with clingfilm makes them very easy to unmould.
set creams
The accompaniment is stewed gooseberries. You may remember that in December I had gooseberries with Uncle Mike and Aunty Helen, but I haven't seen them in the stores recently. I was planning on substituting with kiwi fruit, as they taste pretty similar to gooseberries. However, last week I found these little babies at Coles - kiwiberries! They're like kiwi fruit in the shape of a berry. Perfect!
kiwiberries
So I treated these just like Nigella does the gooseberries - cooking them on a medium heat with sugar and water, and then reducing the syrup to thicken it.
kiwiberries
Once that's done, you can eat!
beautiful!
The elderflower creams were incredibly beautiful! And the combination of sweet, smooth, softly-set elderflower cream and sharp kiwiberries was fantastic. It was so simple to make, but tasted brilliant. I'd be ecstatic if I received something like this in a restaurant. It was just gorgeous.
Tuesday, December 20, 2005
The 3 Bird Orgy, Part IV [Goose Duck Goose]
And today was the day of the dinner party!
This morning, Dad took me to Box Hill to get all the last ingredients I would need – easy stuff, like red cabbage, onions, etc. One thing I realized might be difficult to obtain was a goose gizzard. I doubted the Box Hill butchers would have any goose gizzards, but I figured that one from a duck or chicken would suffice. So we went to the poultry shops in the Box Hill Market, asking for gizzard. We got the same response from everyone. “Gizzard, what’s a gizzard? You mean giblet! We got giblet, you want giblet?” Er, no.
So once we’d done all the other shopping, we headed to Belmore Butchers (which is kinda like Rendinas in terms of quality, but a 20 minute walk from our house, instead of a 5 minute walk).
Butcher: Hi there love, how are you?
Me: Good thanks, how are you?
Butcher: I’m well, thank-you! How can I help you?
Me: Hi, have you got any gizzards?
Butcher: Sorry love, we don’t keep giblets.
Me: Wait, are gizzards and giblets the same thing?
Butcher: Yes they are.
BLOODY HELL. Dad very kindly drove us back to Box Hill, where I sheepishly bought some duck gizzards and then went home to start on the cooking.
211. Christmas Eve Goose (Basics etc.)
212. Red Cabbage Cooked in the Viennese Fashion (Weekend Lunch)
In addition to the giblets, you also need the goose neck for the recipe, which, I discovered, had been cut off by the butcher and stored within the cavity. Sweet as!
There's the neck. Not a disturbing sight at all.
Before you start anything else, you need to remove the fat from around the goose’s cavity, and render it down.
goosefat
The goose needs to be started early. Remember, this is the “holy shit! A fan is involved” goose. The whole fan fandango (har har) is supposed to make the goose’s skin crisp, much like the poaching-then-roasting technique makes the duck soft and crisp. I wonder if you could poach the goose. It certainly would make life easier.
For this recipe, you prick the skin all over with a knife, then pour boiled water over the skin. Nigella suggests doing this over a roasting tray, and then draining the tray, but I just did it in the sink, on a rack. Much easier.
goose in sink
It’s so cool when you pour the water on the skin – it contracts and stretches over the meat.
It wasn’t too much trouble using the fan; it is summer after all (sorry to my friends in the northern hemisphere), we had our free-standing fan already out in the lounge room. I just moved it to the kitchen and aimed it at the goose.
fan
It was about 3:30pm when I realized the goose wasn’t drying fast enough for my liking, so I turned on the airconditioner as well. (Plus, I was getting hot standing at the stove).
with airconditioning
While the goose is drying, you can do the stuffing. You cook some normal onion in the rendered goosefat (yeah baby, yeah), add garlic and lemon zest, and then stir that into 1.4 kilos of potatoes, which have been boiled and mashed.
mashed potato stuffing
Then you pack it into the capacious cavity and it’s ready for the oven. There was a decent amount of stuffing left over, so I put that into a loaf tin, and baked it with the duck later on.
Stuffing
I’m no expert on food hygiene, but I’m pretty sure that once the hot stuffing goes into the raw goose, it has to be cooked immediately. And you know, for all my worrying about how small my goose was, I’m glad I only got a 3 kg gosling – it just fit in my oven!
in oven
Ok, so in the meantime, I made the cabbage. It is suggested as an accompaniment to pork, but would also be perfect with goose. The cabbage is finely shredded, and then cooked in oil with dark muscovado sugar, some Spanish onion, a cooking apple and some vinegar. Then you add some beef stock, and cook it slowly (either on stovetop or in oven – I used the stove) for 2 hours.
sliced cabbage
in pot
It seems like a hell of a lot of cabbage at first, but it does collapse and soften. After the two hours cooking are up, you slowly stir in a mixture of crème fraiche (woohoo! I got to finish off my half-used tub!) and flour, and let it cook for a minute or two. Then you can forget about it, and just reheat it when you want it.
Next was the gravy for the goose. Brown some bacon in more goosefat, then add the giblets and chopped neck, and brown those, followed by onion and carrot. Then you add some chicken stock, and let it simmer for 30 minutes, before straining it and thickening it with cornflour. Once this is all done, you can just leave it in the pot, off the heat, with the lid on to keep it warm.
unstrained gravy
I put the duck in the oven while the goose was resting, covered in foil.
Check out the goose – during cooking, the stuffing expands (or the goose shrinks) and comes out of the cavity.
"I have stuffing coming out the wazoo"
Now, between the consommé, the duck, the goose, the gravy and the cabbage, I'd made a right fucking mess in the kitchen, and used almost every single utensil we own. Normally we eat in the kitchen, but looking at the mess in there, I knew there was no way it was going to happen tonight. We ate dinner in the dining room.
mess
I heated up the consommé when Uncle Mike and Aunty Helen arrived. But looking into the pot, I was suddenly a bit worried about serving it. It looked so boring! I mean, I know that the point of consommé is to have a clear and tasty soup, but still... and I'd never eaten proper consommé before, so I had no idea what it was supposed to be like. I tasted some, then made my mum, my dad, and my brother taste it in turn. We all had the same reaction - "Er... it's ok, but it's boring. You want us to eat a whole bowl of that?" I was almost considering going straight to the goose, and skipping the soup entirely. But then I got Uncle Mike to taste some, and he said, "Yes, that tastes right". And my fears were allayed. We scooped it out into small bowls and started eating.
consommé
It was, surprisingly, really good! Even Mum and Dad enjoyed it. I think it was fine once we knew what to expect. It was heaps stronger than the Italian broth, but as a soup to be eaten plain, it had a lovely delicate flavour. The small bowls we had were perfect for a light starter before the big meal.
dinner
We tried to carve the goose at the table, but it turned out to be more difficult than we'd hoped.
Mum & Aunty Helen carving
So, Mum & I took the goose into the kitchen, and hacked away at it on a board, in a very uncivilised manner. It was really messy, but it was worth it.
Me - and that's the Dangerfield dress. Same price as a 3-kg gosling.
carnage
messy goose
Potato stuffing - the stuffing that had been cooked inside the goose tasted heaps better than the stuffing that had been cooked separately.
We started off by just eating the goose. And by the time we'd gotten through the goose, we were full!!! I didn't need a second bird after all! Bloody Nigella portioning. But seeing as I'd gone to the trouble of making the duck, we tried some anyway.
Soft & Crispy Duck
my plate
That cabbage was just unbelievably good. It looked like a big pile of sweet purple jammy crap in the pan, but it tasted fantastic. It wasn't overly sweet, overly sharp, too mushy or anything like that - it was just perfect. I seriously could have eaten a bowl of it by itself for dinner. (And I might do that tomorrow night with the leftovers).
Now, about the goose. I'd never had goose before, and didn't know quite what to expect. But I loved it! It wasn't tough at all; it was moist and tender, and the fabulous skin was crisp. And the stuffing was wonderful too - all that goosefat and goose juice seeping through the potato. Like, DROOL! It's such a great celebratory dish!
The duck was, as you might have guessed, both soft and crispy. I love a good roast duck, and this one was so easy to make! I highly recommend it for anytime you're entertaining.
On Nigella's suggestion, I didn't make a separate pudding, but just had some fruit and nuts on the table to share. I had cherries on ice, and some whole nuts, which we cracked at the table. I also put a bowl of gooseberries on the table. I hadn't planned to serve them, but I'd found a punnet at Coles in the morning, and never having seen them in Australia before, knew I just had to buy them instantly. (Also, there's a gooseberry recipe in How to Eat somewhere). I'd left them on the kitchen counter, and when Uncle Mike came in, he exclaimed, "Gooseberries! I haven't had them since I was a lad!" So we added them to the table.
dessert
Gooseberries
This was just the right ending to the meal - satisfying, but not too heavy. And the social aspect of cracking the nuts at the table was great. Dad also opened a packet of Lindt chocolate-covered hazelnuts, which went down very, very well. After the meal, we just sat around the table, drinking wine, chatting, and picking at the bits and pieces.
Ooh and check this out - it's Uncle Mike and Aunty Helen's Christmas gift for me. They gave it to me tonight after dinner. It's a gorgeous little amethyst bracelet. How fab is it?!
This morning, Dad took me to Box Hill to get all the last ingredients I would need – easy stuff, like red cabbage, onions, etc. One thing I realized might be difficult to obtain was a goose gizzard. I doubted the Box Hill butchers would have any goose gizzards, but I figured that one from a duck or chicken would suffice. So we went to the poultry shops in the Box Hill Market, asking for gizzard. We got the same response from everyone. “Gizzard, what’s a gizzard? You mean giblet! We got giblet, you want giblet?” Er, no.
So once we’d done all the other shopping, we headed to Belmore Butchers (which is kinda like Rendinas in terms of quality, but a 20 minute walk from our house, instead of a 5 minute walk).
Butcher: Hi there love, how are you?
Me: Good thanks, how are you?
Butcher: I’m well, thank-you! How can I help you?
Me: Hi, have you got any gizzards?
Butcher: Sorry love, we don’t keep giblets.
Me: Wait, are gizzards and giblets the same thing?
Butcher: Yes they are.
BLOODY HELL. Dad very kindly drove us back to Box Hill, where I sheepishly bought some duck gizzards and then went home to start on the cooking.
211. Christmas Eve Goose (Basics etc.)
212. Red Cabbage Cooked in the Viennese Fashion (Weekend Lunch)
In addition to the giblets, you also need the goose neck for the recipe, which, I discovered, had been cut off by the butcher and stored within the cavity. Sweet as!
There's the neck. Not a disturbing sight at all.
Before you start anything else, you need to remove the fat from around the goose’s cavity, and render it down.
goosefat
The goose needs to be started early. Remember, this is the “holy shit! A fan is involved” goose. The whole fan fandango (har har) is supposed to make the goose’s skin crisp, much like the poaching-then-roasting technique makes the duck soft and crisp. I wonder if you could poach the goose. It certainly would make life easier.
For this recipe, you prick the skin all over with a knife, then pour boiled water over the skin. Nigella suggests doing this over a roasting tray, and then draining the tray, but I just did it in the sink, on a rack. Much easier.
goose in sink
It’s so cool when you pour the water on the skin – it contracts and stretches over the meat.
It wasn’t too much trouble using the fan; it is summer after all (sorry to my friends in the northern hemisphere), we had our free-standing fan already out in the lounge room. I just moved it to the kitchen and aimed it at the goose.
fan
It was about 3:30pm when I realized the goose wasn’t drying fast enough for my liking, so I turned on the airconditioner as well. (Plus, I was getting hot standing at the stove).
with airconditioning
While the goose is drying, you can do the stuffing. You cook some normal onion in the rendered goosefat (yeah baby, yeah), add garlic and lemon zest, and then stir that into 1.4 kilos of potatoes, which have been boiled and mashed.
mashed potato stuffing
Then you pack it into the capacious cavity and it’s ready for the oven. There was a decent amount of stuffing left over, so I put that into a loaf tin, and baked it with the duck later on.
Stuffing
I’m no expert on food hygiene, but I’m pretty sure that once the hot stuffing goes into the raw goose, it has to be cooked immediately. And you know, for all my worrying about how small my goose was, I’m glad I only got a 3 kg gosling – it just fit in my oven!
in oven
Ok, so in the meantime, I made the cabbage. It is suggested as an accompaniment to pork, but would also be perfect with goose. The cabbage is finely shredded, and then cooked in oil with dark muscovado sugar, some Spanish onion, a cooking apple and some vinegar. Then you add some beef stock, and cook it slowly (either on stovetop or in oven – I used the stove) for 2 hours.
sliced cabbage
in pot
It seems like a hell of a lot of cabbage at first, but it does collapse and soften. After the two hours cooking are up, you slowly stir in a mixture of crème fraiche (woohoo! I got to finish off my half-used tub!) and flour, and let it cook for a minute or two. Then you can forget about it, and just reheat it when you want it.
Next was the gravy for the goose. Brown some bacon in more goosefat, then add the giblets and chopped neck, and brown those, followed by onion and carrot. Then you add some chicken stock, and let it simmer for 30 minutes, before straining it and thickening it with cornflour. Once this is all done, you can just leave it in the pot, off the heat, with the lid on to keep it warm.
unstrained gravy
I put the duck in the oven while the goose was resting, covered in foil.
Check out the goose – during cooking, the stuffing expands (or the goose shrinks) and comes out of the cavity.
"I have stuffing coming out the wazoo"
Now, between the consommé, the duck, the goose, the gravy and the cabbage, I'd made a right fucking mess in the kitchen, and used almost every single utensil we own. Normally we eat in the kitchen, but looking at the mess in there, I knew there was no way it was going to happen tonight. We ate dinner in the dining room.
mess
I heated up the consommé when Uncle Mike and Aunty Helen arrived. But looking into the pot, I was suddenly a bit worried about serving it. It looked so boring! I mean, I know that the point of consommé is to have a clear and tasty soup, but still... and I'd never eaten proper consommé before, so I had no idea what it was supposed to be like. I tasted some, then made my mum, my dad, and my brother taste it in turn. We all had the same reaction - "Er... it's ok, but it's boring. You want us to eat a whole bowl of that?" I was almost considering going straight to the goose, and skipping the soup entirely. But then I got Uncle Mike to taste some, and he said, "Yes, that tastes right". And my fears were allayed. We scooped it out into small bowls and started eating.
consommé
It was, surprisingly, really good! Even Mum and Dad enjoyed it. I think it was fine once we knew what to expect. It was heaps stronger than the Italian broth, but as a soup to be eaten plain, it had a lovely delicate flavour. The small bowls we had were perfect for a light starter before the big meal.
dinner
We tried to carve the goose at the table, but it turned out to be more difficult than we'd hoped.
Mum & Aunty Helen carving
So, Mum & I took the goose into the kitchen, and hacked away at it on a board, in a very uncivilised manner. It was really messy, but it was worth it.
Me - and that's the Dangerfield dress. Same price as a 3-kg gosling.
carnage
messy goose
Potato stuffing - the stuffing that had been cooked inside the goose tasted heaps better than the stuffing that had been cooked separately.
We started off by just eating the goose. And by the time we'd gotten through the goose, we were full!!! I didn't need a second bird after all! Bloody Nigella portioning. But seeing as I'd gone to the trouble of making the duck, we tried some anyway.
Soft & Crispy Duck
my plate
That cabbage was just unbelievably good. It looked like a big pile of sweet purple jammy crap in the pan, but it tasted fantastic. It wasn't overly sweet, overly sharp, too mushy or anything like that - it was just perfect. I seriously could have eaten a bowl of it by itself for dinner. (And I might do that tomorrow night with the leftovers).
Now, about the goose. I'd never had goose before, and didn't know quite what to expect. But I loved it! It wasn't tough at all; it was moist and tender, and the fabulous skin was crisp. And the stuffing was wonderful too - all that goosefat and goose juice seeping through the potato. Like, DROOL! It's such a great celebratory dish!
The duck was, as you might have guessed, both soft and crispy. I love a good roast duck, and this one was so easy to make! I highly recommend it for anytime you're entertaining.
On Nigella's suggestion, I didn't make a separate pudding, but just had some fruit and nuts on the table to share. I had cherries on ice, and some whole nuts, which we cracked at the table. I also put a bowl of gooseberries on the table. I hadn't planned to serve them, but I'd found a punnet at Coles in the morning, and never having seen them in Australia before, knew I just had to buy them instantly. (Also, there's a gooseberry recipe in How to Eat somewhere). I'd left them on the kitchen counter, and when Uncle Mike came in, he exclaimed, "Gooseberries! I haven't had them since I was a lad!" So we added them to the table.
dessert
Gooseberries
This was just the right ending to the meal - satisfying, but not too heavy. And the social aspect of cracking the nuts at the table was great. Dad also opened a packet of Lindt chocolate-covered hazelnuts, which went down very, very well. After the meal, we just sat around the table, drinking wine, chatting, and picking at the bits and pieces.
Ooh and check this out - it's Uncle Mike and Aunty Helen's Christmas gift for me. They gave it to me tonight after dinner. It's a gorgeous little amethyst bracelet. How fab is it?!
The 3 Bird Orgy, Part I [The Evolution]
I hadn’t really intended for tonight’s dinner to become a 3-bird orgy, it just kind of evolved into one. But I suppose these types of things only happen when you don’t plan them.
It started like this – I got an email from a friend a while ago saying something like…
“Sarah, I really feel for you. I was reading through my How to Eat, and I saw the goose recipe. Holy shit! A fan is involved!”
I then read through the goose recipe, which is stuffed with mashed potato, and sounded divine. Because it is so rich and filling, Nigella doesn’t mention any starters or sides, or even desserts. It’s practically a dinner party in itself. She just says to serve some fruits and nuts afterwards. And the only people I could think of to cook a goose for were Uncle Mike and Aunty Helen. Do you remember them? I had them over for steak and kidney pie with banana custard, and also for Blakean fish pie and rhubarb crumble. They’re some of our oldest family friends.
So the next time I went to the Prahran market, I bought a goose, to bring home and freeze, in anticipation of a future, as yet unscheduled, dinner party. The only goose I could find was technically a “gosling” and weighed about 3 kilos. It also cost $74. Dad and I nearly had a fit. But we bought it anyway, and it has been sitting in the freezer since then.
A week or so later, I emailed Uncle Mike asking him to come over “sometime in the next few weeks for roast goose”. He seemed pretty excited at the prospect. Nigella’s recipe says you need a 4.5 kilo goose for 6 people, and knowing Nigella’s portioning, I figured that a 3 kilo gosling would be fine for us, as long as there were enough side dishes. However, the next day I read a thread on the Nigella.com forum about the very topic of goose-portioning. People were saying that a 3 kilo goose wouldn’t be nearly enough for 6 people, that geese were very fatty and boney, and had hardly any meat on their big big boney bones. These were people, real people with (presumably) more conventional appetites than our lovely Nigella, I couldn't just ignore the portioning advice. I obviously couldn’t cancel on Uncle Mike, so there was a dilemma here… would I buy a second goose, thus spending more money and preventing myself from buying that new Dangerfield dress? Then we’d have more than enough goose for 6, and I’d have to invite more people. Or could I just keep the invitees as they were and just be really skimpy with the portions? But that was just a silly idea, no Nigella devotee could ever in good conscience provide skimpy portions.
Then it hit me… just add a different bird!! The soft and crisp roast duck from Cooking in Advance would be perfect. It’s cheaper, easier to make, and has the advantage of being able to be made in advance, save a 30 minute blast in the oven just before eating. We could just give a couple of slices of each bird to each person, and that would be sufficient. I also decided to add a side dish – the red cabbage from the Weekend Lunch chapter, because I saw a friend's photos from Germany of goose paired with cabbage, and it looked too good not to go together.
So with that dilemma thoroughly sorted out, I emailed Uncle Mike and we arranged for Monday night to be the goose and duck night. (I also went out and bought that dress).
If one bird is a meal, two birds are a feast. And if two birds are a feast, then three birds are a hedonistic orgy of rejoicing in the bounteousness of life. Or something like that.
The third bird in this orgy came in the form of the consommé – again, I hadn’t intended for this to be part of the meal, but I’d made it on Saturday for the hell of it, and thought that I may as well add it as a (non-filling) course to the dinner party. Besides, I couldn’t think of when else we’d drink the consommé.
So, the date was set, the dishes were planned, the guests were invited... all that was left to do was deal with those birds...
It started like this – I got an email from a friend a while ago saying something like…
“Sarah, I really feel for you. I was reading through my How to Eat, and I saw the goose recipe. Holy shit! A fan is involved!”
I then read through the goose recipe, which is stuffed with mashed potato, and sounded divine. Because it is so rich and filling, Nigella doesn’t mention any starters or sides, or even desserts. It’s practically a dinner party in itself. She just says to serve some fruits and nuts afterwards. And the only people I could think of to cook a goose for were Uncle Mike and Aunty Helen. Do you remember them? I had them over for steak and kidney pie with banana custard, and also for Blakean fish pie and rhubarb crumble. They’re some of our oldest family friends.
So the next time I went to the Prahran market, I bought a goose, to bring home and freeze, in anticipation of a future, as yet unscheduled, dinner party. The only goose I could find was technically a “gosling” and weighed about 3 kilos. It also cost $74. Dad and I nearly had a fit. But we bought it anyway, and it has been sitting in the freezer since then.
A week or so later, I emailed Uncle Mike asking him to come over “sometime in the next few weeks for roast goose”. He seemed pretty excited at the prospect. Nigella’s recipe says you need a 4.5 kilo goose for 6 people, and knowing Nigella’s portioning, I figured that a 3 kilo gosling would be fine for us, as long as there were enough side dishes. However, the next day I read a thread on the Nigella.com forum about the very topic of goose-portioning. People were saying that a 3 kilo goose wouldn’t be nearly enough for 6 people, that geese were very fatty and boney, and had hardly any meat on their big big boney bones. These were people, real people with (presumably) more conventional appetites than our lovely Nigella, I couldn't just ignore the portioning advice. I obviously couldn’t cancel on Uncle Mike, so there was a dilemma here… would I buy a second goose, thus spending more money and preventing myself from buying that new Dangerfield dress? Then we’d have more than enough goose for 6, and I’d have to invite more people. Or could I just keep the invitees as they were and just be really skimpy with the portions? But that was just a silly idea, no Nigella devotee could ever in good conscience provide skimpy portions.
Then it hit me… just add a different bird!! The soft and crisp roast duck from Cooking in Advance would be perfect. It’s cheaper, easier to make, and has the advantage of being able to be made in advance, save a 30 minute blast in the oven just before eating. We could just give a couple of slices of each bird to each person, and that would be sufficient. I also decided to add a side dish – the red cabbage from the Weekend Lunch chapter, because I saw a friend's photos from Germany of goose paired with cabbage, and it looked too good not to go together.
So with that dilemma thoroughly sorted out, I emailed Uncle Mike and we arranged for Monday night to be the goose and duck night. (I also went out and bought that dress).
If one bird is a meal, two birds are a feast. And if two birds are a feast, then three birds are a hedonistic orgy of rejoicing in the bounteousness of life. Or something like that.
The third bird in this orgy came in the form of the consommé – again, I hadn’t intended for this to be part of the meal, but I’d made it on Saturday for the hell of it, and thought that I may as well add it as a (non-filling) course to the dinner party. Besides, I couldn’t think of when else we’d drink the consommé.
So, the date was set, the dishes were planned, the guests were invited... all that was left to do was deal with those birds...
Sunday, November 27, 2005
Lunch party dinner
I had absolutely no idea what to cook for dinner tonight. Having free time to cook is one thing, having the energy to actually think of what to cook is another. Meal planning in the normal run of things is difficult enough, evidenced by the abundance of articles and cookbooks with such titles as "Midweek meals", "Tuesday Night Cooking", "Meals in Minutes," and so on. However, everyday meal planning within the self-imposed constraints of The Project is, to put it lightly, a bit of a challenge. When I plan in advance to do a special occasion meal, I have the luxury of time to think about the menu, to consider all possible outcomes, and to go searching for the ingredients. But for impromptu, everyday meals, I need a few guidelines.
Whenever I choose a recipe on the same day that I want to make it...
- it has to be something I haven't made before
- it can't be something I've earmarked for a future dinner party/occasion,
- it should preferably be seasonal (so the "Deeply Autumnal Dinner for 8" will have to wait until Autumn)
- it must contain accessible ingredients (something like pheasant or venison requires advance planning)
- I have to be able to face making it
- and most importantly, it has to be something that we actually want to eat!
Today, I was totally stuck, so I phoned-a-friend (well, emailed, actually) for advice.
Yo!
Any ideas for what I could cook tomorrow for dinner? I think it's all four of us, or at least me and my parents. I don't mind cooking anything, is there HTE any recipe u particularly wanna see?
xox Sarah
Howdy!
Since you've already tackled Peter Rabbit in Mr. MacGregor's salad, AND Pig's Bum, by two revered, but never made by me, recipes, I had to go flip through the book and am hard pressed to top those!. So now I'm trying to think of things your family would enjoy! Okay, so how about the ceviche w/ hot garlic potatoes? p. 314 in my book. Or Sunday night chicken noodle? But, I also think it's time you do the proper English trifle.
xoxoxo
P.S. Also, if you have time and want to get some recipes out quickly, the Proust's Madeleines are very quick & super-easy -- and delicious!! And the strawberries in dark syrup -- the same.
The thing that caught my eye on that list was the madeleines. I bought a madeleine tray years ago, but never got around to using it, despite my mother's insistent (and I do mean insistent)reminders. So there we go, dessert was settled.
As for my friend's other suggestions, I've already done the Sunday Night Chicken Noodle, I'm saving the Proper English Trifle for Uncle Mike (a Proper English Gentleman), and making ceviche would require a trip down to Prahran Market for extremely fresh fish. And I think that the market's closed on Sundays anyway.
In the late afternoon, Dad & I went to our regular Box Hill Market (still a good market, but not quite as well-stocked as Prahran with unusual ingredients) and had a look around for ingredients with which to make a nice dinner. I found baby spinach leaves, bacon, button mushrooms, and rainbow trout, and dinner was decided!
179. Spinach, Bacon and Raw Mushroom Salad (Weekend Lunch)
180. Baked Sea Bass with Rosemary (Weekend Lunch)
181. Strawberries in Dark Syrup (Dinner)
182. Proust's Madeleines (Dinner)
First things first. The strawberries need a good three hours to macerate, so they need to be started first. This recipe is just the classic combination of strawberries sprinkled with castor sugar and balsamic vinegar. For some reason, Nigella says not to serve them with cream or any cream-like substance. However, I think that vanilla-scented mascarpone would be wonderful alongside, if you're not up for making madeleines.
Speaking of which, the madeleines also require a bit of time to sit. After making the batter, which involves beating eggs and sugar, then folding in flour, melted butter and honey, you need to let it rest in the fridge for an hour, then at room temperature for a further 30 minutes. So whilst the strawberries and madeleine batter were resting, I got on with the savoury part of dinner.
I used rainbow trout instead of sea bass. Firstly, and most importantly, I love rainbow trout. Secondly, sea bass in Australia is either unavailable or ridiculously expensive. Nigella says you could substitue sea bream for bass, but the bream I saw at the fishmonger didn't look amenable to this method - they were distinctly chode-like, that is, thick and short. You're supposed to get the fishmonger to remove the bones from the fish, but leave the head and tail on. Then you stuff the cavity with rosemary, and bake it in foil. So I figured it didn't matter which fish you used, because the important thing to take away from the recipe was the method. And it sounds easy, huh? Well, I forgot to get the fishmonger to bone the fish, and thus, I had to attempt to bone them myself.
Back in first year uni, I used to work as a sales assistant at a seafood shop. Sadly, I don't think I've retained any of the skills I picked up there. I got the sharpest knife I could find, and went to hack at the poor fishies' backbones. (I hope you're not squeamish...) So, I started with the head end, severing the backbone. And sadly, it wasn't a simple matter of sticking in a knife and pulling out the backbone and guts.
According to that episode of The Simpsons where they go to Japan...
"Knife goes in... guts come out... that's what Osaka fish concern is all about..."
Not true! They lied to me through song! I hate when people do that!
I had to loosen all the little fishbones which were attached to the backbone from the flesh (and there are hundreds, I soon realised) so that the backbone could be lifted up and cut away from the fish. It took about half an hour in total, with me cursing like a sailor the whole way through, and flicking fish flesh and bones all over the place. The poor fish, they looked a right mess.
Boned fish
The moral of the story... GET YOUR FISHMONGER TO DO EVERYTHING.
The boning was the hard part, and the rest was easy. The fish needs to be baked for about 20 minutes, stuffed with rosemary and wrapped in foil. We've got a huge rosemary bush growing wild in our garden, which is wonderful. Whilst the fish was cooking, I made the salad - fried some bacon, finely sliced some mushrooms and tossed them through baby spinach leaves and dressed them in garlicky oil and lemon juice.
As soon as the fish came out of the oven, I speedily filled the madeleine tin and chucked it in there. And we could finally eat!
Fish - despite the boning ordeal they'd had only an hour before, they turned out beautiful. And there weren't any bones left in there, HAH!
Salad
Dinner
Oh yes, I forgot to mention that at some time during the cooking process, I boiled some new potatoes and tossed them through butter and truffle oil. It was a fab accompaniment.
Sliced fish - once boned, you can slice and serve it easily!
This meal totally rocked! We hadn't had fish in ages, and my parents were well impressed. The salad was awesome, with its contrasting colours and flavours and textures. The fish was infused with a lovely rosemary scent and was moist and tender. Dad couldn't stop praising the meal!
Dessert - the madeleines were a bit browner than I'd intended, but that is because they cook very, very quickly, and the difference between 5 and 7 minutes can be a crucial one. Make sure you keep an eye on them. But who cares about the colour, they tasted amazing! And they perfectly complemented the jewel-red strawberries.
Mum: This is good, I love it!
Mum's not really a dessert person, so that simple phrase means a lot.
I've never actually read Proust, but I'm told that he bit into a madeline once and was instantly overwhelmed by a stream of memories, which went on... and on... and on... for 6 whole books. I didn't quite have an epiphany with my first bite, but I was overwhelmed by the amazing taste, texture and fragrance. I can't believe I was so silly as to halve the recipe (which makes 24) for the 3 of us. We scoffed our 12 madeleines in record time, and could have easily kept going... and going... and going...
Whenever I choose a recipe on the same day that I want to make it...
- it has to be something I haven't made before
- it can't be something I've earmarked for a future dinner party/occasion,
- it should preferably be seasonal (so the "Deeply Autumnal Dinner for 8" will have to wait until Autumn)
- it must contain accessible ingredients (something like pheasant or venison requires advance planning)
- I have to be able to face making it
- and most importantly, it has to be something that we actually want to eat!
Today, I was totally stuck, so I phoned-a-friend (well, emailed, actually) for advice.
Yo!
Any ideas for what I could cook tomorrow for dinner? I think it's all four of us, or at least me and my parents. I don't mind cooking anything, is there HTE any recipe u particularly wanna see?
xox Sarah
Howdy!
Since you've already tackled Peter Rabbit in Mr. MacGregor's salad, AND Pig's Bum, by two revered, but never made by me, recipes, I had to go flip through the book and am hard pressed to top those!. So now I'm trying to think of things your family would enjoy! Okay, so how about the ceviche w/ hot garlic potatoes? p. 314 in my book. Or Sunday night chicken noodle? But, I also think it's time you do the proper English trifle.
xoxoxo
P.S. Also, if you have time and want to get some recipes out quickly, the Proust's Madeleines are very quick & super-easy -- and delicious!! And the strawberries in dark syrup -- the same.
The thing that caught my eye on that list was the madeleines. I bought a madeleine tray years ago, but never got around to using it, despite my mother's insistent (and I do mean insistent)reminders. So there we go, dessert was settled.
As for my friend's other suggestions, I've already done the Sunday Night Chicken Noodle, I'm saving the Proper English Trifle for Uncle Mike (a Proper English Gentleman), and making ceviche would require a trip down to Prahran Market for extremely fresh fish. And I think that the market's closed on Sundays anyway.
In the late afternoon, Dad & I went to our regular Box Hill Market (still a good market, but not quite as well-stocked as Prahran with unusual ingredients) and had a look around for ingredients with which to make a nice dinner. I found baby spinach leaves, bacon, button mushrooms, and rainbow trout, and dinner was decided!
179. Spinach, Bacon and Raw Mushroom Salad (Weekend Lunch)
180. Baked Sea Bass with Rosemary (Weekend Lunch)
181. Strawberries in Dark Syrup (Dinner)
182. Proust's Madeleines (Dinner)
First things first. The strawberries need a good three hours to macerate, so they need to be started first. This recipe is just the classic combination of strawberries sprinkled with castor sugar and balsamic vinegar. For some reason, Nigella says not to serve them with cream or any cream-like substance. However, I think that vanilla-scented mascarpone would be wonderful alongside, if you're not up for making madeleines.
Speaking of which, the madeleines also require a bit of time to sit. After making the batter, which involves beating eggs and sugar, then folding in flour, melted butter and honey, you need to let it rest in the fridge for an hour, then at room temperature for a further 30 minutes. So whilst the strawberries and madeleine batter were resting, I got on with the savoury part of dinner.
I used rainbow trout instead of sea bass. Firstly, and most importantly, I love rainbow trout. Secondly, sea bass in Australia is either unavailable or ridiculously expensive. Nigella says you could substitue sea bream for bass, but the bream I saw at the fishmonger didn't look amenable to this method - they were distinctly chode-like, that is, thick and short. You're supposed to get the fishmonger to remove the bones from the fish, but leave the head and tail on. Then you stuff the cavity with rosemary, and bake it in foil. So I figured it didn't matter which fish you used, because the important thing to take away from the recipe was the method. And it sounds easy, huh? Well, I forgot to get the fishmonger to bone the fish, and thus, I had to attempt to bone them myself.
Back in first year uni, I used to work as a sales assistant at a seafood shop. Sadly, I don't think I've retained any of the skills I picked up there. I got the sharpest knife I could find, and went to hack at the poor fishies' backbones. (I hope you're not squeamish...) So, I started with the head end, severing the backbone. And sadly, it wasn't a simple matter of sticking in a knife and pulling out the backbone and guts.
According to that episode of The Simpsons where they go to Japan...
"Knife goes in... guts come out... that's what Osaka fish concern is all about..."
Not true! They lied to me through song! I hate when people do that!
I had to loosen all the little fishbones which were attached to the backbone from the flesh (and there are hundreds, I soon realised) so that the backbone could be lifted up and cut away from the fish. It took about half an hour in total, with me cursing like a sailor the whole way through, and flicking fish flesh and bones all over the place. The poor fish, they looked a right mess.
Boned fish
The moral of the story... GET YOUR FISHMONGER TO DO EVERYTHING.
The boning was the hard part, and the rest was easy. The fish needs to be baked for about 20 minutes, stuffed with rosemary and wrapped in foil. We've got a huge rosemary bush growing wild in our garden, which is wonderful. Whilst the fish was cooking, I made the salad - fried some bacon, finely sliced some mushrooms and tossed them through baby spinach leaves and dressed them in garlicky oil and lemon juice.
As soon as the fish came out of the oven, I speedily filled the madeleine tin and chucked it in there. And we could finally eat!
Fish - despite the boning ordeal they'd had only an hour before, they turned out beautiful. And there weren't any bones left in there, HAH!
Salad
Dinner
Oh yes, I forgot to mention that at some time during the cooking process, I boiled some new potatoes and tossed them through butter and truffle oil. It was a fab accompaniment.
Sliced fish - once boned, you can slice and serve it easily!
This meal totally rocked! We hadn't had fish in ages, and my parents were well impressed. The salad was awesome, with its contrasting colours and flavours and textures. The fish was infused with a lovely rosemary scent and was moist and tender. Dad couldn't stop praising the meal!
Dessert - the madeleines were a bit browner than I'd intended, but that is because they cook very, very quickly, and the difference between 5 and 7 minutes can be a crucial one. Make sure you keep an eye on them. But who cares about the colour, they tasted amazing! And they perfectly complemented the jewel-red strawberries.
Mum: This is good, I love it!
Mum's not really a dessert person, so that simple phrase means a lot.
I've never actually read Proust, but I'm told that he bit into a madeline once and was instantly overwhelmed by a stream of memories, which went on... and on... and on... for 6 whole books. I didn't quite have an epiphany with my first bite, but I was overwhelmed by the amazing taste, texture and fragrance. I can't believe I was so silly as to halve the recipe (which makes 24) for the 3 of us. We scoffed our 12 madeleines in record time, and could have easily kept going... and going... and going...
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
Sharin' the fish pie love
My parents went for a wine-tasting session with Uncle Mike tonight (one of my parents’ oldest friends, he of steak and kidney pie fame), and I offered to cook for them afterwards.
I emailed him a couple of days ago...
Subject: Wine tasting and Fish Pie
Hi Uncle Mike,
Dad tells me that you and my parents are going to a wine tasting on Tuesday.
Unfortunately I can't attend (university, you see), but if you're free, would you like to come over for dinner afterwards? I was thinking of making a fish pie and possibly a crumble.
Cheers,
Sarah
He replied the next day…
Sarah,
Yes, I would love to partake.
Helen says that like you she will not be going to the wine tasting
But wonders if she is asked to the fish pie and crumble tasting?
Mike.
Sweet, Aunty Helen wanted to come over for my pie too. She must have liked my steak and kidney pie when she ate it.
123. Blakean Fish Pie (Dinner)
124. Rhubarb Crumble with custard, damn straight (Basics etc.)
Look at this menu, all about reverting to Uncle Mike’s English childhood. I certainly didn’t have one!
I was excited about making this fish pie, because I tasted fish pie (Nigella’s Fish and Porcini) for the first time in June, and absolutely loved it.
“Blakean” because of its yellow interior (it’s a literary reference, apparently), the pie has three elements – seafood, a white sauce tinted yellow with saffron, and a mashed potato topping. Nigella says to use salmon, prawns, cod and haddock. I used salmon, prawns, flake and dory (all from the supermarket). I figured that once they were drowned in white sauce and covered with potato, it really wouldn’t matter what fish you used.
To begin, I made the crumble topping and stashed it in the freezer. Then I started the fish pie - boiling the potatoes for the topping. Whilst they were cooking, I poached the fish in Noilly Prat, carrot, water and a bouquet garni, then made a white sauce using flour, butter and the drained poaching liquid mixed with cream. I used random proportions of double cream, single cream and water to get up to the required 450ml mark. And I finally got to break open my packet of Italian 00 flour, (a.k.a. farina tipo “00”).
And on a random note, I remember seeing a commis chef at my old work making a white sauce once. She sucked balls, it was all lumpy and feral. To make conversation, I asked her what she was making, and she very patronizingly explained to me that it was “called a roux” to make a “white sauce, do you know what is a white sauce?”. HRMPH. As if I didn’t know! She was a qualified chef, and her white sauce looked like vomit. I know she had a million things to make at once, and in very little time, but a professional chef really should be able to handle pressure. (You may think me a bitch, but do we remember how crap my old job was??)
Anyway, here’s my smooth white sauce. I made it, relaxed, in the peace and quiet of my own kitchen, away from screaming chefs.
White sauce
Add a generous pinch of saffron powder ($14.70 for 2 grams) and it becomes…
Blakean sauce - How sunnily cheerful!
After doing this I mashed up the now-cooked potatoes and made the custard to go with dessert.
I had started cooking, leisurely, in the afternoon, with the expectation that my dad would call me when the wine tasting finished. This way I’d have enough time to whack the pie in the oven, and have it ready when they arrived home. Well, at seven o’clock, on the dot, with no prior warning, three wine-soused adults rocked up to my house whilst I still had all my pie parts sitting in random pots around the kitchen. ARGH! I’d almost had enough time to recover when Aunty Helen arrived too. (Breathe Sarah, breathe!)
So, as I rapidly put the seafood, the sauce and the potatoes in the dish, and chucked the pie in the oven. I then gave them a bottle of chardonnay, and poured myself a glass as well. Luckily, no-one was rushed or super-hungry, so it was all good.
And 34 minutes later…
Fish pie
After pulling out the fish pie, I chucked the crumble in. (The fruit had been cut up last night.)
Rhubarb – with light muscovado and vanilla sugars, and orange zest
Pre-oven crumble
Ok, so with the crumble in the oven, we could relax and get back to my fish pie…
Golden yellow
Peas and a generous serve of fish pie. Nothing better. (Except if you add ketchup - heaven!)
Like the fish and porcini pie, this one is fab too. It’s not strongly flavoured, (I would have preferred a fishier taste, actually) so be prepared to add quite a bit of salt.
Aunty Helen: Your mashed potato looks wonderful. What's the secret, lots of butter?
Me: Yes.
And a little bit after dinner was finished, the crumble was ready.
Cooked crumble
Served with my custard (yeah baby, yeah), it was fabulous. Cold custard + hot crumble = dessert heaven. I love making custard now. I don't even need the recipe any more!
The crumble tasted great - the rhubarb was fruitily fragrant, and the crumble topping was light and crumbly (duh). The only problem was that some of the thicker rhubarb pieces weren't cooked fully!! How annoying! Like the recipe says to do, I'd cut the rhubarb into 5cm pieces, but I should have cut them lengthways as well. Ah well... we just avoided all the hard pieces when scooping it out and took all the good and mushy ones.
Uncle Mike's – the man obviously loves custard
Uncle Mike (that's Aunty Helen's shoulder in the background)
Even though it's Spring, the weather was freezing today, like 16 degrees, so this menu was very appropriate.
Oh God, this post took me sooo much longer than I expected. Well, there’s a warning for you kiddies, don’t drink and blog.
I emailed him a couple of days ago...
Subject: Wine tasting and Fish Pie
Hi Uncle Mike,
Dad tells me that you and my parents are going to a wine tasting on Tuesday.
Unfortunately I can't attend (university, you see), but if you're free, would you like to come over for dinner afterwards? I was thinking of making a fish pie and possibly a crumble.
Cheers,
Sarah
He replied the next day…
Sarah,
Yes, I would love to partake.
Helen says that like you she will not be going to the wine tasting
But wonders if she is asked to the fish pie and crumble tasting?
Mike.
Sweet, Aunty Helen wanted to come over for my pie too. She must have liked my steak and kidney pie when she ate it.
123. Blakean Fish Pie (Dinner)
124. Rhubarb Crumble with custard, damn straight (Basics etc.)
Look at this menu, all about reverting to Uncle Mike’s English childhood. I certainly didn’t have one!
I was excited about making this fish pie, because I tasted fish pie (Nigella’s Fish and Porcini) for the first time in June, and absolutely loved it.
“Blakean” because of its yellow interior (it’s a literary reference, apparently), the pie has three elements – seafood, a white sauce tinted yellow with saffron, and a mashed potato topping. Nigella says to use salmon, prawns, cod and haddock. I used salmon, prawns, flake and dory (all from the supermarket). I figured that once they were drowned in white sauce and covered with potato, it really wouldn’t matter what fish you used.
To begin, I made the crumble topping and stashed it in the freezer. Then I started the fish pie - boiling the potatoes for the topping. Whilst they were cooking, I poached the fish in Noilly Prat, carrot, water and a bouquet garni, then made a white sauce using flour, butter and the drained poaching liquid mixed with cream. I used random proportions of double cream, single cream and water to get up to the required 450ml mark. And I finally got to break open my packet of Italian 00 flour, (a.k.a. farina tipo “00”).
And on a random note, I remember seeing a commis chef at my old work making a white sauce once. She sucked balls, it was all lumpy and feral. To make conversation, I asked her what she was making, and she very patronizingly explained to me that it was “called a roux” to make a “white sauce, do you know what is a white sauce?”. HRMPH. As if I didn’t know! She was a qualified chef, and her white sauce looked like vomit. I know she had a million things to make at once, and in very little time, but a professional chef really should be able to handle pressure. (You may think me a bitch, but do we remember how crap my old job was??)
Anyway, here’s my smooth white sauce. I made it, relaxed, in the peace and quiet of my own kitchen, away from screaming chefs.
White sauce
Add a generous pinch of saffron powder ($14.70 for 2 grams) and it becomes…
Blakean sauce - How sunnily cheerful!
After doing this I mashed up the now-cooked potatoes and made the custard to go with dessert.
I had started cooking, leisurely, in the afternoon, with the expectation that my dad would call me when the wine tasting finished. This way I’d have enough time to whack the pie in the oven, and have it ready when they arrived home. Well, at seven o’clock, on the dot, with no prior warning, three wine-soused adults rocked up to my house whilst I still had all my pie parts sitting in random pots around the kitchen. ARGH! I’d almost had enough time to recover when Aunty Helen arrived too. (Breathe Sarah, breathe!)
So, as I rapidly put the seafood, the sauce and the potatoes in the dish, and chucked the pie in the oven. I then gave them a bottle of chardonnay, and poured myself a glass as well. Luckily, no-one was rushed or super-hungry, so it was all good.
And 34 minutes later…
Fish pie
After pulling out the fish pie, I chucked the crumble in. (The fruit had been cut up last night.)
Rhubarb – with light muscovado and vanilla sugars, and orange zest
Pre-oven crumble
Ok, so with the crumble in the oven, we could relax and get back to my fish pie…
Golden yellow
Peas and a generous serve of fish pie. Nothing better. (Except if you add ketchup - heaven!)
Like the fish and porcini pie, this one is fab too. It’s not strongly flavoured, (I would have preferred a fishier taste, actually) so be prepared to add quite a bit of salt.
Aunty Helen: Your mashed potato looks wonderful. What's the secret, lots of butter?
Me: Yes.
And a little bit after dinner was finished, the crumble was ready.
Cooked crumble
Served with my custard (yeah baby, yeah), it was fabulous. Cold custard + hot crumble = dessert heaven. I love making custard now. I don't even need the recipe any more!
The crumble tasted great - the rhubarb was fruitily fragrant, and the crumble topping was light and crumbly (duh). The only problem was that some of the thicker rhubarb pieces weren't cooked fully!! How annoying! Like the recipe says to do, I'd cut the rhubarb into 5cm pieces, but I should have cut them lengthways as well. Ah well... we just avoided all the hard pieces when scooping it out and took all the good and mushy ones.
Uncle Mike's – the man obviously loves custard
Uncle Mike (that's Aunty Helen's shoulder in the background)
Even though it's Spring, the weather was freezing today, like 16 degrees, so this menu was very appropriate.
Oh God, this post took me sooo much longer than I expected. Well, there’s a warning for you kiddies, don’t drink and blog.
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