Meat has many drawbacks. It’s expensive, it’s often unethically produced and it’s bad for the environment. But for many of us food lovers its range of flavours and textures is impossible to sacrifice. In the current economic climate, and with climate change ever more pressing, why not learn to love the more unusual parts of the beast?
What we generally know as ‘meat’ is merely the muscle holding the bones together. Offal takes its name from the phrase ‘off-fall’ - the bits of the animal that fall away when it’s butchered. Its counterpart is properly called ‘pluck’ - the internal organs you have to pull away. In combination, this includes the heart, lungs, liver and kidneys, but the term ‘offal’ is often used to refer to anything other than the layer of skeletal muscle. While we might squirm at the idea of eating a brain or testicle, we may well have eaten intestinal casings and ground offal in sausages hundreds of times over without a second thought.
The Food Standards Agency Food Labelling Regulations 2003 forbid retailers from describing anything other than ‘skeletal muscle with naturally included or adherent fat and connective tissues’ as meat. Since the BSE crisis and more recent concerns about bird flu, it is understandable that people want to know what they’re eating, but I suggest that this should drive us to eat well produced animals, rather than limiting our consumption to particular cuts.
Sadly, many modern reference books describe offal as the ‘waste parts’ of the creature. In Britain, we haven’t always turned our noses up at offal as we do now. Until the post-war era, offal was used in many popular dishes. Liver and kidneys were frequently used as ingredients in many traditional British meals, and tripe was particularly common in Yorkshire and Lancashire.
It still seems commonplace in many countries with less gratuitous wealth than ours to make the most of the slaughtering of an animal by using every edible morsel. The knowledge of how to cook these parts well goes hand-in-hand with a need for thriftiness and an understanding of the farming process; that calorie for calorie, producing an animal is far less efficient than arable faming. Nevertheless, cultivating animals makes use of plant and vegetable waste that humans can’t digest and can provide an excellent source of protein. Disposing of even a tiny bit is a foolish waste of a highly valuable resource.
With the economic downturn, British consumers are more concerned about thriftiness once again, and many now understand that the contents of their shopping basket also affect the environment. Belief in the value of locally produced goods and craft foods has led to an increase in British artisan produce and farmers’ markets. Happily, it seems these factors might be starting a resurgence in the use of more parts of the animal and a confidence in their production values. There are certainly a number of celebrity chefs and highbrow London restaurants that advocate the use of trotter, cheek and tripe.
I’d argue that if the increased popularity of offal remains the preserve of foodies and the upper middle classes, society is missing a trick. Organs like liver and kidney are low in fat and high in essential nutrients, often at a fraction of the cost of chicken breast and steak. Whilst some parts such as heart can take quite some time and effort to prepare well, liver can be chucked into a stir fry very easily. The relatively low cost means that it’s much more affordable to buy locally sourced, properly reared animals. Surely these meats provide an opportunity for those on a limited budget to eat high quality, healthy cuts of the animal?
In addition to the cost and health benefits of buying unusual cuts and organs, offal has a great deal to offer in terms of adding variety to your cooking. Many people use chicken giblets to add flavour to gravy, precisely because the internal parts of the animal contribute rich and complex tastes. The only reason offal isn’t more frequently used is because people feel awkward about where it comes from. We need to get over this squeamishness. Any meat is a dead animal and if you feel uncomfortable with that, you shouldn’t be eating it at all.
Thursday, 12 January 2012
Fareshare.
This country wastes a lot of food. We all know this. At home, many people buy too much or plan badly and as a result, end up discarding large amounts of produce. The size of the problem is multiplied many times when it comes to manufacturers, shops and restaurants. Some people occasionally score a free meal by ‘skipping’ discarded produce from supermarket bins, which has generally passed its ‘best before’ date or is damaged but may still be fine to eat. Some take this approach further by living a ‘freegan’ lifestyle. Freegans take as much of their diet from discarded food as possible in order to minimise waste and limit their participation in the consumerist economic system. However, many vulnerable people need support in accessing the waste food our society produces.
While tonnes of food is discarded every day, seven million people in this country are affected by low income, perhaps the most critical factor leading to food poverty. It is estimated that around four million people in the UK cannot afford a healthy diet. One fifth of people using the services of charities across the country admit they have gone without a square meal for a week or more in the last year.
Some organisations seek to work with businesses to ensure that the food they reject reaches the most needy. FareShare is a national charity fighting hunger in the UK by redistributing quality surplus produce from the food industry to a network of community organisations that support homeless and other vulnerable people. The charity also provides essential training and education on safe food preparation and nutrition, on top of warehouse employability training through its Eat Well Live Well programme.
FareShare argues that the current economic climate has made food redistribution even more crucial than ever. Lindsay Boswell, Chief Executive of FareShare, says: “At a time of unprecedented demand we want the food industry and the general public to increase their support.”
Recent figures released by the organisation show a sharp rise in demand on charities for food, as people all over Britain struggle to put dinner on the table. 42% of charities surveyed reported an increase in demand for food in the past year as prices continue to soar, putting additional strain on families and people on low incomes. Through collaborations with manufacturers and supermarkets, FareShare is helping charities to prevent hunger.
You can support Fareshare by making a donation or volunteering at their depot, with our local centre based in Barnsley.
fareshare.org
fssouthyorkshire@fareshare.org.uk
01226 213255
This country wastes a lot of food. We all know this. At home, many people buy too much or plan badly and as a result, end up discarding large amounts of produce. The size of the problem is multiplied many times when it comes to manufacturers, shops and restaurants. Some people occasionally score a free meal by ‘skipping’ discarded produce from supermarket bins, which has generally passed its ‘best before’ date or is damaged but may still be fine to eat. Some take this approach further by living a ‘freegan’ lifestyle. Freegans take as much of their diet from discarded food as possible in order to minimise waste and limit their participation in the consumerist economic system. However, many vulnerable people need support in accessing the waste food our society produces.
While tonnes of food is discarded every day, seven million people in this country are affected by low income, perhaps the most critical factor leading to food poverty. It is estimated that around four million people in the UK cannot afford a healthy diet. One fifth of people using the services of charities across the country admit they have gone without a square meal for a week or more in the last year.
Some organisations seek to work with businesses to ensure that the food they reject reaches the most needy. FareShare is a national charity fighting hunger in the UK by redistributing quality surplus produce from the food industry to a network of community organisations that support homeless and other vulnerable people. The charity also provides essential training and education on safe food preparation and nutrition, on top of warehouse employability training through its Eat Well Live Well programme.
FareShare argues that the current economic climate has made food redistribution even more crucial than ever. Lindsay Boswell, Chief Executive of FareShare, says: “At a time of unprecedented demand we want the food industry and the general public to increase their support.”
Recent figures released by the organisation show a sharp rise in demand on charities for food, as people all over Britain struggle to put dinner on the table. 42% of charities surveyed reported an increase in demand for food in the past year as prices continue to soar, putting additional strain on families and people on low incomes. Through collaborations with manufacturers and supermarkets, FareShare is helping charities to prevent hunger.
You can support Fareshare by making a donation or volunteering at their depot, with our local centre based in Barnsley.
fareshare.org
fssouthyorkshire@fareshare.org.uk
01226 213255
Blend.
http://blendcookeatshare.yolasite.com
We all know that what we eat can affect how we feel physically. Eating well can also improve our mood and mental health, increasing serotonin and reducing lethargy. More than this, the experience of cooking and eating with others can really add something special to our lives. Blend, a social enterprise based in Sharrow, runs a number of activities for the community designed to optimize these three levels of food-related well-being.
One of Blend’s most successful regular events is the Healthy Cook Along. This is an opportunity to learn to cook new dishes from around the world and share a meal with others in your local community. The sessions attract a wide range of local people, including young families teaching their children the basics, students wanting to expand their repertoire and older people seeking new skills, perhaps after divorce or bereavement. The cooking activities encourage people to cooperate and get talking and the atmosphere is relaxed and welcoming, with a sense of collective achievement once the food is served. At £2 for adults or £1 for kids with all ingredients and equipment provided, it’s a pretty cheap activity.
If you aren’t a beginner in the kitchen but would like the opportunity to gain more technical skill, the Advanced Cook Alongs are targeted at you. These sessions focus on much more adventurous dishes made with seasonal, local produce. Any additional income generated is ploughed back into Blend’s other food related projects. Their most recent menu was themed around game and included pigeon, watercress and black pudding salad, roast pheasant and sticky toffee pudding. Yum.
The Blend website describes their Saturday morning Baking Club as ‘a laidback event to bring people together to bake bread, drink coffee, read the papers and enjoy the start of the weekend’. The club provides a chance to bake the basics plus some well-deserved treats, sharing tips and recipes with other keen bakers, from beginners to experts.
The ‘BIG’ events were inspired by the national Big Lunch campaign. This has now developed into a regular quarterly event including a meal and family activities, which are a great chance to meet people living in your area. For those who wish to progress onto a career in food or community work, Blend also has a number of volunteering opportunities.
Upcoming Blend events:
HEALTHY COOK ALONGS
£2 adults/£1 kids at The Old Sharrow Junior School, South View Road
Thursday 26th January – Thai vegetable kebabs and satay sauce, Thai green curry and Pad Thai
Thursday 23rd February – Moroccan chicken tagine, cous cous, aubergine salad, sardine tagine, carrot salad
Thursday 29th March – Vietnamese (menu to be confirmed)
ADVANCED COOK ALONG
£10 per person at The Old Sharrow Junior School, South View Road
Tuesday 6th March - Menu to be confirmed
BAKING CLUB
£2.50/kids free at The Old Sharrow Junior School, South View Road
Saturday 28th January
Saturday 25th February
Saturday 31st March
Friday, 7 October 2011
In Search of a 'Real' Curry...
Robin Cook once said that Chicken Tikka Masala was Britain’s new national dish. Certainly, Indian food has become an immensely popular aspect of British culture. But how has this happened, what does it tell us about how we relate with other cultures and is there really such a thing as an ‘authentic’ Indian cuisine anyway?
Indian food first came to the UK as early as the 17th Century. Bengali seamen (or ‘lascars’) were at work on the trading ships of the East India Company from the early 1600s onwards, bringing with them the spices and techniques of their native cuisine. Over time, the increasing influence of Britain in India meant that many traders returned from South Asia with Indian servants, and a taste for Indian flavours.
The first commercial curry powder in Britain was introduced in London in 1780, with the first Indian restaurant opening around 1809. The Hindoostanee Coffee House was run by Mr Dean Mahomet. He had come to London from Bihar, India, via Cork, Ireland and according to an advertisement, he hoped to offer a place “for the Nobility and Gentry where they might enjoy the Hookha with real Chilm tobacco and Indian dishes of the highest perfection". Unfortunately, he went out of business just three years later as many wealthy people preferred to eat at home, with many having their own chef.
Queen Victoria helped make curry fashionable in the mid-1800s, eating it regularly at home. There was a dip in the popularity of Indian food in the early 19th Century, but it saw a strong resurgence from the 1940s with increased immigration. Many South Asians took over bombed out takeaways in the post-war era, serving curry alongside traditional fish and chips. Many would stay open late to catch the pub closing time business, forming the ritual of ‘the curry on the way home’ which many of us still follow now.
The story of Britain’s early relationship with India is very much bound up with power and money, and indeed some might argue this is still the case today. As these forces drove the spice trade and colonialism across South Asia, the cuisines of number of other countries became meshed with the traditional recipes of the region, leading to dishes such as vindaloo (a Goan version of a Portuguese meat dish) and Biryani (a Persian-inspired rice dish).
Lizzie Collingham’s ‘Curry: A tale of Cooks and Conquerers’ looks at how South Asian food has interacted with different cultures around the world. She shows that curry is now very international – Japan has kairee raisu (curried rice), New York restaurants sell kosher curries on Lexington Avenue and Samoans use tinned fish and corned beef to make a Polynesian curry. Here in Britain, Walkers have created Chicken Tikka crisps, Heinz sell curry-flavoured baked beans, and chips and curry sauce is a firm favourite.
Middle class sensibilities might baulk at the idea of curry flavoured crisps, believing this to represent the death of an authentic culture. However, a second look at the story of Indian food brings into question the idea of an ‘authentic’ set of dishes. Little could seem more authentically Indian than the chilli pepper, but they were in fact introduced by the Portuguese in the 15th Century. India has also adopted certain aspects of so-called British culture such as a passion for tea drinking, which of course originated in China. Furthermore, Collingham points out that the vast majority of ‘Indian’ restaurants in the UK are actually Bangladeshi. As you can see, the cultural interactions are not as straight forward as they may initially seem.
A recent feature on the BBC website suggested that there is now a movement from some chefs to introduce Anglo-Indian food – such as the Chicken Tikka Masala – into the Indian market. To the ever-growing Indian middle classes, these dishes seem different and exciting. As the spending power of the Indian subcontinent increases, it’s clear that power and money still drive the story of this cuisine. Whilst people have money to spend and a taste for the new, these exciting flavours will continue to be reused, repackaged and reinvented. And for those of us who love food, this means more flavour combinations to try.
Indian food first came to the UK as early as the 17th Century. Bengali seamen (or ‘lascars’) were at work on the trading ships of the East India Company from the early 1600s onwards, bringing with them the spices and techniques of their native cuisine. Over time, the increasing influence of Britain in India meant that many traders returned from South Asia with Indian servants, and a taste for Indian flavours.
The first commercial curry powder in Britain was introduced in London in 1780, with the first Indian restaurant opening around 1809. The Hindoostanee Coffee House was run by Mr Dean Mahomet. He had come to London from Bihar, India, via Cork, Ireland and according to an advertisement, he hoped to offer a place “for the Nobility and Gentry where they might enjoy the Hookha with real Chilm tobacco and Indian dishes of the highest perfection". Unfortunately, he went out of business just three years later as many wealthy people preferred to eat at home, with many having their own chef.
Queen Victoria helped make curry fashionable in the mid-1800s, eating it regularly at home. There was a dip in the popularity of Indian food in the early 19th Century, but it saw a strong resurgence from the 1940s with increased immigration. Many South Asians took over bombed out takeaways in the post-war era, serving curry alongside traditional fish and chips. Many would stay open late to catch the pub closing time business, forming the ritual of ‘the curry on the way home’ which many of us still follow now.
The story of Britain’s early relationship with India is very much bound up with power and money, and indeed some might argue this is still the case today. As these forces drove the spice trade and colonialism across South Asia, the cuisines of number of other countries became meshed with the traditional recipes of the region, leading to dishes such as vindaloo (a Goan version of a Portuguese meat dish) and Biryani (a Persian-inspired rice dish).
Lizzie Collingham’s ‘Curry: A tale of Cooks and Conquerers’ looks at how South Asian food has interacted with different cultures around the world. She shows that curry is now very international – Japan has kairee raisu (curried rice), New York restaurants sell kosher curries on Lexington Avenue and Samoans use tinned fish and corned beef to make a Polynesian curry. Here in Britain, Walkers have created Chicken Tikka crisps, Heinz sell curry-flavoured baked beans, and chips and curry sauce is a firm favourite.
Middle class sensibilities might baulk at the idea of curry flavoured crisps, believing this to represent the death of an authentic culture. However, a second look at the story of Indian food brings into question the idea of an ‘authentic’ set of dishes. Little could seem more authentically Indian than the chilli pepper, but they were in fact introduced by the Portuguese in the 15th Century. India has also adopted certain aspects of so-called British culture such as a passion for tea drinking, which of course originated in China. Furthermore, Collingham points out that the vast majority of ‘Indian’ restaurants in the UK are actually Bangladeshi. As you can see, the cultural interactions are not as straight forward as they may initially seem.
A recent feature on the BBC website suggested that there is now a movement from some chefs to introduce Anglo-Indian food – such as the Chicken Tikka Masala – into the Indian market. To the ever-growing Indian middle classes, these dishes seem different and exciting. As the spending power of the Indian subcontinent increases, it’s clear that power and money still drive the story of this cuisine. Whilst people have money to spend and a taste for the new, these exciting flavours will continue to be reused, repackaged and reinvented. And for those of us who love food, this means more flavour combinations to try.
Sunday, 5 June 2011
Revolutionary Brownies: you're not fat and they're nice.
In the course of my social media escapades, few things get my goat more than seeing women call themselves fat all the time. Generally, they aren't fat in the slightest. Furthermore, it always struck me as some kind of strange contradiction: if you really thought you were fat then you wouldn't draw attention to it, surely? Do they just want the affirmation of someone saying how slim they are? And how must it make anyone genuinely overweight in their network feel?
Recently, I've been thinking about Michel Foucault's idea of power and how it applies to Facebook. It seems particularly relevant to these self-flagellating women. For those who aren't familiar, Foucault is a pretty awesome theorist (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Michel_Foucault). He wrote about how power and control have moved from being exercised externally (i.e. from a monarch or institution) to from within a self-monitoring subject.
A big part of how this kind of control works is through our own participation in the very methods of surveillance that constrain us. We feel as though we are always being watched so we regulate our behaviour; even our thoughts perhaps. In an interesting article on the Masters of Media site, Agathe Wiedermair discusses how our confession of our every thought to our online social networks subjects us to a form of social control through both self regulation and the surveillance of our peers.
What's this got to do with neurotic women and brownies? I'm getting there. Basically, the glimmer of hope that I see in all of this is that we are all part of the power network ourselves. The downside of that is that when a size ten young woman says she feels bad for eating a Haribo and ten friends click 'Like', it not only reinforces her insecurities but other members of her network feel this is a normal and positive thought. However, every time you update your status saying you have just eaten a brownie and bloody well enjoyed it, you can feel proud in the knowledge that you've just scored a point for feminism; for revolution!
Recently, I've been thinking about Michel Foucault's idea of power and how it applies to Facebook. It seems particularly relevant to these self-flagellating women. For those who aren't familiar, Foucault is a pretty awesome theorist (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Michel_Foucault). He wrote about how power and control have moved from being exercised externally (i.e. from a monarch or institution) to from within a self-monitoring subject.
A big part of how this kind of control works is through our own participation in the very methods of surveillance that constrain us. We feel as though we are always being watched so we regulate our behaviour; even our thoughts perhaps. In an interesting article on the Masters of Media site, Agathe Wiedermair discusses how our confession of our every thought to our online social networks subjects us to a form of social control through both self regulation and the surveillance of our peers.
What's this got to do with neurotic women and brownies? I'm getting there. Basically, the glimmer of hope that I see in all of this is that we are all part of the power network ourselves. The downside of that is that when a size ten young woman says she feels bad for eating a Haribo and ten friends click 'Like', it not only reinforces her insecurities but other members of her network feel this is a normal and positive thought. However, every time you update your status saying you have just eaten a brownie and bloody well enjoyed it, you can feel proud in the knowledge that you've just scored a point for feminism; for revolution!
The fab recipe that inspired this post is from Saturday's Guardian and it's yet another Hugh FW one
Peanut butter and chocolate brownies
Chocolate and peanut butter are one of the great flavour combinations. These layered, swirled brownies look great and taste even better. Makes 16.
For the brownie layer
240g dark chocolate, at least 70%, finely chopped
120g unsalted butter, diced, plus a little more for greasing the tin
120g light muscovado sugar
2 eggs
1 tsp vanilla extract
120g plain flour, sifted
¼ tsp salt
For the peanut butter layer
380g cream cheese, room temperature
227g jar of smooth peanut butter
1 tsp vanilla extract
100g caster sugar
2 eggs
3 tbsp double cream
3 tbsp plain flour, sifted
Heat the oven to 170C/325F/gas mark 3. Lightly grease a 22cm x 22cm x 5cm brownie tin and line with baking parchment (as in the preceding recipes).
Stir the chocolate and butter in a heatproof bowl over a pan of barely simmering water until smooth, then set aside to cool. Using an electric mixer, beat the sugar and eggs until very light and fluffy. Beat in the vanilla and chocolate mixture, then gently fold in the flour and salt until just combined. Spread the batter in the tin, though keep back about six tablespoonfuls for later.
Next, make the peanut butter layer of the brownie. Beat together the cream cheese, peanut butter and vanilla until very smooth. Gradually add the sugar, beating until it is well blended, light and fluffy. Beat in the eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition. Beat in the cream. Gently fold in the flour. Spread the peanut batter over the brownie layer and dot the top with spoonfuls of the reserved chocolate mixture.
Using a wooden skewer or a thin knife, swirl the spoonfuls of chocolate batter through the peanut butter layer, so it makes a pattern on the top of the brownies. Bake for about 35 minutes, until the edges of the peanut butter layer are puffed up and centre is set. Cool in the tin on a rack and cut when completely cold.
Enjoy xx
Tuesday, 24 May 2011
A Fishy Dishy...
I do love a good piece of fish for my tea. However, these days we all need to think about what fish we eat. I fell in love with herring whilst working at a festival in Norway last summer, and was delighted to find out that it's not too naughty. Although herring stocks were radically over-fished in the 50s and 60s, they've regenerated themselves well and a couple of varieties are now classified as sustainable by the Marine Conservation Society's Good Fish Guide. I bought two whole fish for under £2 from Castle Market, so they're easy on the wallet too.
I made this recipe up myself using what we had in the fridge, but I did take inspiration from Hugh Fearnley Whittingstall's Guardian article about herring and Delia's Limey Herring recipe so have included links below. Enjoy!
Polenta Crusted Herring with Crushed Potatoes and Lime Ratatouille
Serves 2
INGREDIENTS
- Quartered baby potatoes (as many as you like)
- 2 handfuls of frozen peas
- 2 herrings (ask fishmonger to remove head & gut and fillet if possible)
- 2 handful of fine or medium polenta/cornmeal
- 1 red onion
- 1/2 aubergine in chunky pieces
- 2 cloves of garlic, finely chopped
- 4 large tomatoes, chunkily chopped
- 1 lime
- salt and pepper to taste
- 2 knobs of butter
- splash of olive oil
- tablespoon Dijon mustard
1. Chuck the potatoes into a pan of water and boil with a large pinch of salt until tender.
2. Finely slice onion and fry in a little oil until soft and golden. Add aubergine, tomatoes, the juice and zest of 1/2 a lime, the garlic and salt and pepper to taste. Simmer for around 10-15mins (until aubergine is soft and unctuous), stirring occasionally.
3. If necessary bone the fish and snip off fins with scissors. Rub all over with the other 1/2 lime and push both sides into the polenta.
4. Warm 1 knob of butter and a dash of oil in frying pan until very hot. Cook herring flesh side down for around 3mins, then turn over and give 2 mins on skin side.
5. Whilst the herring is cooking, add peas to potato pan for 2 mins, then drain and crush lightly with mustard and reamining butter using a masher. You're not trying to make a smooth mash, rather a chunky crushed explosion.
6. Stack up the elements, starting with potato and pea crush, then herring, then ratatouille. The zestiness of the ratatouille should balance the oily richness of the fish, and the sweetness of the pea and baby potatoes should provide a subtle background, offset with the tang of Dijon to stop it becoming too heavy. But that's just my opinion.
Check out the sources below for more fishy fun:
www.deliaonline.com/recipes/main-ingredient/fish-and-seafood/herring/fried-herring-fillets-with-a-lime-pepper-crust.html - Delia's Lime Pepper Crusted Herring recipe breaks down the method super-clearly as always. I just wish I'd read her guide to boning herring, trout and mackerel BEFORE I made my meal: www.deliaonline.com/how-to-cook/fish-and-shellfish/how-to-bone-a-herring-trout-or-mackerel
www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2010/jan/23/herring-recipes-hugh-fearnley-whittingstall
Interesting summary of herring history and sustainability alongside a few great recipes, including home pickled rollmops (which I will try out and report back on in the future, no doubt).
http://www.goodfishguide.co.uk/ - Marine Conservation Society's edible fish guide: includes a search function with sustainability ratings and less naughty alternatives suggested and 'fish of the day' area which highlights less popular fish.
http://www.msc.org/. - The Marine Stewardship Council, who work with seafood companies, fisheries, scientists, conservation companies and the public to promote fishy conservation. You can find their mark on approved fish products in the shops; it's a blue fish and tick symbol. They also have a library of recipes on the site using varieties they have certified sustainable. The mackerel "Gravad Max" (a variation on gravalax) looked especially appetising (another Hugh classic, it turns out).
I made this recipe up myself using what we had in the fridge, but I did take inspiration from Hugh Fearnley Whittingstall's Guardian article about herring and Delia's Limey Herring recipe so have included links below. Enjoy!
Polenta Crusted Herring with Crushed Potatoes and Lime Ratatouille
Serves 2
INGREDIENTS- Quartered baby potatoes (as many as you like)
- 2 handfuls of frozen peas
- 2 herrings (ask fishmonger to remove head & gut and fillet if possible)
- 2 handful of fine or medium polenta/cornmeal
- 1 red onion
- 1/2 aubergine in chunky pieces
- 2 cloves of garlic, finely chopped
- 4 large tomatoes, chunkily chopped
- 1 lime
- salt and pepper to taste
- 2 knobs of butter
- splash of olive oil
- tablespoon Dijon mustard
1. Chuck the potatoes into a pan of water and boil with a large pinch of salt until tender.
2. Finely slice onion and fry in a little oil until soft and golden. Add aubergine, tomatoes, the juice and zest of 1/2 a lime, the garlic and salt and pepper to taste. Simmer for around 10-15mins (until aubergine is soft and unctuous), stirring occasionally.
3. If necessary bone the fish and snip off fins with scissors. Rub all over with the other 1/2 lime and push both sides into the polenta.
4. Warm 1 knob of butter and a dash of oil in frying pan until very hot. Cook herring flesh side down for around 3mins, then turn over and give 2 mins on skin side.
5. Whilst the herring is cooking, add peas to potato pan for 2 mins, then drain and crush lightly with mustard and reamining butter using a masher. You're not trying to make a smooth mash, rather a chunky crushed explosion.
6. Stack up the elements, starting with potato and pea crush, then herring, then ratatouille. The zestiness of the ratatouille should balance the oily richness of the fish, and the sweetness of the pea and baby potatoes should provide a subtle background, offset with the tang of Dijon to stop it becoming too heavy. But that's just my opinion.
Check out the sources below for more fishy fun:
www.deliaonline.com/recipes/main-ingredient/fish-and-seafood/herring/fried-herring-fillets-with-a-lime-pepper-crust.html - Delia's Lime Pepper Crusted Herring recipe breaks down the method super-clearly as always. I just wish I'd read her guide to boning herring, trout and mackerel BEFORE I made my meal: www.deliaonline.com/how-to-cook/fish-and-shellfish/how-to-bone-a-herring-trout-or-mackerel
www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2010/jan/23/herring-recipes-hugh-fearnley-whittingstall
Interesting summary of herring history and sustainability alongside a few great recipes, including home pickled rollmops (which I will try out and report back on in the future, no doubt).
http://www.goodfishguide.co.uk/ - Marine Conservation Society's edible fish guide: includes a search function with sustainability ratings and less naughty alternatives suggested and 'fish of the day' area which highlights less popular fish.
http://www.msc.org/. - The Marine Stewardship Council, who work with seafood companies, fisheries, scientists, conservation companies and the public to promote fishy conservation. You can find their mark on approved fish products in the shops; it's a blue fish and tick symbol. They also have a library of recipes on the site using varieties they have certified sustainable. The mackerel "Gravad Max" (a variation on gravalax) looked especially appetising (another Hugh classic, it turns out).
Wednesday, 18 May 2011
Recipes Should Be Worth Sharing
I recently received a Facebook message in the chain letter genre. To be precise, it was actually more of a pyramid scheme. A pyramid scheme in which I was asked to invest a recipe, sending it to the top name on the list and reposting the request to a number of friends who do the same, until each person on the list receives 36 recipes.
"Fair enough." you might think. "Disregarding the fact that pyramid schemes never work and are clearly a scam, sounds like a nice way to gain a few new recipes". And that would be reasonable. However, the message then requested that "it should be something quick, easy and without rare ingredients. Actually, the best one is the one you know in your head and can type right now. Don't agonise over it, it is the one you make when you're short of time".I was outraged! What, I ask you, is the point of sharing a recipe that you can type from your head; that you make when you're rushed?
As a food obsessive, I cherish recipes that I collect from numerous sources. Sometimes they're kept in a folder, on scribbled pieces of paper or torn out, faded magazine pages. Sometimes they're marked with a post-it or a well folded spine in an old cookbook. Sometimes they're bookmarked on my iPhone. Wherever I keep them, they are precious to me. When I'm in a rush and whip up a bowl of pasta or noodles, I still think about flavours and ingredients. It's not quite the same as those indulgent afternoons spent following a well-loved recipe though, is it?
Personally, if I'm asked to share a recipe, I can't help but agonise over it. It's a way to show people what I love and why. However, I've had to come to a conclusion on which recipe to share; not for the pyramid scheme, but to share my first recipe with you here on Not a Load of Tripe. I've at least managed to stick to one request the pyramid scheme message made though - this recipe uses a stack of simple ingredients, and is actually far easier than everyone thinks when I've taken it to parties or made it for friends. It's a great starter for novice pie-makers too, being pretty difficult to ruin as it doesn't have to support a great deal of its own weight (like a pork pie) or contain liquid (like a steak and ale, for instance). I got it in my Beanies veg box (contact them on 0114 268 1662 if you'd like a regular seasonal veg box delivered, with a great recipe card each week) but it comes from 'The Vegetarian Option' by Simon Hopkinson originally. Enjoy!
LEEK AND CHEESE PIE
For the pastry -
125g butter,
200g self-raising flour,
pinch of salt (if using unsalted butter),
cold water to mix.
Cut up the butter in a large bowl and rub in the flour and salt until coarse crumbs have formed (I do this in a blender, but be careful not to overblend). Mix with as little water as you can get away with and knead briefly. Place in a plastic bag in the fridge to 'rest'.
For the filling -
600g-700g leeks trimmed and thinly sliced,
250g-300g grated cheddar cheese or something similar,
25g butter,
3 tbsp water,
salt and pepper,
a little milk for glazing the pastry.
Melt the butter in a roomy pan and gently stew the leeks for 10 mins, then add the water and salt and pepper, and stirring from time to time, continue to cook until the water has evaporated (They should be lovely and sticky by now!). Cool the leeks by spreading them out on a plate and butter a tart tin or ceramic flan dish. Pre-heat the oven to 180c. If you use a 20cm tart tin you should find you need about 2/3 of the pastry for the base and save the rest for a lid, or for a 22 or 24cm tin use more for the base and use thin strips of pastry to make a lattice top (I think this looks nicest anyway as you can see the browned cheese inside when cooked). Cover the pastry base of the pie with half the leeks, then half the cheese, then the rest of the leeks and finally the remaining cheese. Finish with the pastry topping, brush with a little milk to glaze and bake for 40mins. Serve warm or cold.
Lovely. Now that is worth sharing.
"Fair enough." you might think. "Disregarding the fact that pyramid schemes never work and are clearly a scam, sounds like a nice way to gain a few new recipes". And that would be reasonable. However, the message then requested that "it should be something quick, easy and without rare ingredients. Actually, the best one is the one you know in your head and can type right now. Don't agonise over it, it is the one you make when you're short of time".I was outraged! What, I ask you, is the point of sharing a recipe that you can type from your head; that you make when you're rushed?
As a food obsessive, I cherish recipes that I collect from numerous sources. Sometimes they're kept in a folder, on scribbled pieces of paper or torn out, faded magazine pages. Sometimes they're marked with a post-it or a well folded spine in an old cookbook. Sometimes they're bookmarked on my iPhone. Wherever I keep them, they are precious to me. When I'm in a rush and whip up a bowl of pasta or noodles, I still think about flavours and ingredients. It's not quite the same as those indulgent afternoons spent following a well-loved recipe though, is it?
Personally, if I'm asked to share a recipe, I can't help but agonise over it. It's a way to show people what I love and why. However, I've had to come to a conclusion on which recipe to share; not for the pyramid scheme, but to share my first recipe with you here on Not a Load of Tripe. I've at least managed to stick to one request the pyramid scheme message made though - this recipe uses a stack of simple ingredients, and is actually far easier than everyone thinks when I've taken it to parties or made it for friends. It's a great starter for novice pie-makers too, being pretty difficult to ruin as it doesn't have to support a great deal of its own weight (like a pork pie) or contain liquid (like a steak and ale, for instance). I got it in my Beanies veg box (contact them on 0114 268 1662 if you'd like a regular seasonal veg box delivered, with a great recipe card each week) but it comes from 'The Vegetarian Option' by Simon Hopkinson originally. Enjoy!
LEEK AND CHEESE PIE
For the pastry -
125g butter,
200g self-raising flour,
pinch of salt (if using unsalted butter),
cold water to mix.
Cut up the butter in a large bowl and rub in the flour and salt until coarse crumbs have formed (I do this in a blender, but be careful not to overblend). Mix with as little water as you can get away with and knead briefly. Place in a plastic bag in the fridge to 'rest'.
For the filling -
600g-700g leeks trimmed and thinly sliced,
250g-300g grated cheddar cheese or something similar,
25g butter,
3 tbsp water,
salt and pepper,
a little milk for glazing the pastry.
Melt the butter in a roomy pan and gently stew the leeks for 10 mins, then add the water and salt and pepper, and stirring from time to time, continue to cook until the water has evaporated (They should be lovely and sticky by now!). Cool the leeks by spreading them out on a plate and butter a tart tin or ceramic flan dish. Pre-heat the oven to 180c. If you use a 20cm tart tin you should find you need about 2/3 of the pastry for the base and save the rest for a lid, or for a 22 or 24cm tin use more for the base and use thin strips of pastry to make a lattice top (I think this looks nicest anyway as you can see the browned cheese inside when cooked). Cover the pastry base of the pie with half the leeks, then half the cheese, then the rest of the leeks and finally the remaining cheese. Finish with the pastry topping, brush with a little milk to glaze and bake for 40mins. Serve warm or cold.
Lovely. Now that is worth sharing.
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