A while back I watched a totally inane programme called A Taste Of My Life in which Nigella Slater interviews a so-called celebrity about their dull lives through the food memories they have. At the end of it the celeb had to hold an imaginary dinner for a handful of people of their choice. A bit like Desert Island Discs. Or Dessert Island Dicks, even. The guests chosen were usually rather predictable – Nelson Mandela, JFK, Sigmund Freud, John Lennon etc. This lead me to muse on who I’d like to invite to dinner. After scrapping a couple of ideas (Bill Shankly, Bob Paisley, Joe Fagan, Kenny Dalglish, Graeme Souness and Rafa Benitez would be great – “So Bill, what do you think of these fellas’ handling of your legacy?” “Aye, they’ve all done good, save that money shaggin’ fool who used to have that mole on his top lip”). I’d also invite John Peel along coz he’d appreciate that. And I could thank him for pulling a few heaven strings at half time on a certain night in May, 2005 (always knew it was you, John). But yesterday I found the right combo. Mike Tyson, Bruce Lee, Josef Menegele, Attila The Hun, Sweeny Todd and David Caruso. I would proceed to announce to the first five that dinner will only be served once they had beaten up, tortured and mutilated the ginger twunt. I would then sit back and enjoy the spectacle. Any doubts to whether this guy deserves it should watch this snippet from YouTube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pWS7c21jOnI
So, to carry on the theme of things which make one’s sphincter turn inside out this is my take on a humdinger of a chilli sauce. After years, nay, decades of shop-bought disappointments where the fire-breathing, devil-summoning condiment turns out to be a sour, meek, food-wrecking bottle of nothingness I decided to see if I could do any better. And lo and behold the first experiment was fantastic. By using a liquid preservative (in Denmark it’s a sodium benzoate called Atamon) the sauce will keep for over a month after the jar is opened. The strength of the chilli sauce obviously depends on the type of chillis used. I find Thai birds eye chillis are my preferred type, roughly a 7 on the Sphincter Scale. Habaneras are only for ass-assinating people.
Smaug’s Revenge Chilli Sauce
100g chillis (rinsed in cold water)
1 small tin of tomato purée
Vegetable oil (anything neutral – olive oil isn’t good as it goes cloudy in the fridge)
Salt, pepper & sugar
2 or so cloves of garlic
sodium benzoate (optional)
So you peel your garlic, top the chillis and wop them into a food processor together with the tomato purée, preservative, a pinch of sugar, salt and pepper and about 50 ml of the oil. Blitz and taste. Add more seasoning if required. If you want a more loose sauce add more oil. Pour/scoop into sterilized jars and keep in the fridge.
Wednesday, 29 October 2008
Saturday, 14 June 2008
Ginger Nutty Butt Squash Arse Cream
My father-in-law’s a proud, cricket loving Yorkshireman. And as everybody knows Yorkshirefolk can’t say “ice cream”, they say “arse cream.” Just thought I’d mention that. I have to admit I’ve never been a huge ice cream fan, preferring the clean tasting freshness of sorbets to the sickly ice creams you can buy. And my first forays into ice cream making were deffo not a huge success – Very Mature Goat’s Cheese Ice Cream is an acquired taste to say the least and my attempt to make a Tom Ka Ice Cream using coconut milk nearly caused our machine to burn itself out. And I really should have known that using a Nigel Slater recipe for Old Fashioned Vanilla Ice Cream was a bad idea as almost everything he makes is a gagging great 10 on the Rich-ter scale. It called for 8 egg yolks for the “custard”. “Ooo” said Mrs B, “it tastes like custard – I love it!” “Ergh” I said, “it tastes like custard – I DON’T love it!” (I hate custard by the way, probably due to the stuff they poisoned me with at school.) So it was with little faith that I embarked on a James Martin recipe for Ginger and Butternut Squash Ice Cream. But it was brilliant, quite bold – it goes nicely with things like melon, strawbs and, especially, pineapple, rather than on its own. And the reason it’s now my recipe and not Mr Martin’s is a slight technicality. I leave the bits of ginger and squash in the ice cream whilst he pulps them through a sieve. In my (obviously far superior) version the ginger and squash become chewy, almost as if you’d used stem ginger.
Ginger and Butternut Ice Cream
4 egg yolks (the more organic the better)
500 ml double or whipping cream
125 g sugar
125 g or thereabouts of butternut squash, cut into cubes
an inch of fresh ginger peeled and chopped fine-ishly (note my rebellious use of both metric and imperial)
Start by roasting the squash in a medium oven (150 degrees celsius) for twenty or so minutes or until it’s tender. Don’t let it brown. When it’s done bung it on a chopping board and cut to smithereens. Well, into very small pieces. Put the ginger into the cream, bring to the boil, remove from the stove and leave it to infuse for 30 minutes whilst you make a nice cup of tea. (This bit is important – tea is good.) Now whisk the sugar into the egg yolks good’n hard (you will be feeling strong and refreshed after that cuppa). Bring the cream back up to simmering point, whisk a little of it into the egg mix then stir it all back into the cream. This back and forth stuff is to stop the eggs from scrambling. Wallop in the squash and simmer very gently for a few minutes, stirring constantly until it thickens slightly. Then leave to cool and it’s ready to either pour into an ice cream maker machine thing or put into a tub and then in the freezer (taking out and forking up every hour or so).
Being a great fan of waste-not-want-not I have been using the leftover egg whites to make chewy merengues. They’re dead easy. Important tip numero uno is your whisking bowl must be spotless, the mere hint of grease or whatever will ruin everything (and the world will end). You need 115 grams of sugar per egg white. Whisk the whites till they form soft peeks then gradually whisk in the sugar. Keep whisking away for three or four minutes and your merengue mix should be shiny, silky, smoothy white. Plop or dollop spoonfuls onto greaseproof paper and bake for 35 or so minutes in a preheated 150 degree c oven or until they’re everso slightly golden brownish. Too long and they won’t be chewy – too little and they’ll be raw in the middle. Many thanks to Gwen, my mother-in-law, for this recipe. (She’s not from Yorkshire and can pronounce ice cream, by the way) Her merengues are world famous in our family and it was her that told me the need for potassium hydrogen tartrate, 5% acetic acid, sodium chloride and god-knows-what which other recipes call for is a total waste of time. And as some long-forgotten bard once wrote; “I’d give you my forever but I do not have the time”. Speaking a which it’s time to bugger off….
Ginger and Butternut Ice Cream
4 egg yolks (the more organic the better)
500 ml double or whipping cream
125 g sugar
125 g or thereabouts of butternut squash, cut into cubes
an inch of fresh ginger peeled and chopped fine-ishly (note my rebellious use of both metric and imperial)
Start by roasting the squash in a medium oven (150 degrees celsius) for twenty or so minutes or until it’s tender. Don’t let it brown. When it’s done bung it on a chopping board and cut to smithereens. Well, into very small pieces. Put the ginger into the cream, bring to the boil, remove from the stove and leave it to infuse for 30 minutes whilst you make a nice cup of tea. (This bit is important – tea is good.) Now whisk the sugar into the egg yolks good’n hard (you will be feeling strong and refreshed after that cuppa). Bring the cream back up to simmering point, whisk a little of it into the egg mix then stir it all back into the cream. This back and forth stuff is to stop the eggs from scrambling. Wallop in the squash and simmer very gently for a few minutes, stirring constantly until it thickens slightly. Then leave to cool and it’s ready to either pour into an ice cream maker machine thing or put into a tub and then in the freezer (taking out and forking up every hour or so).
Being a great fan of waste-not-want-not I have been using the leftover egg whites to make chewy merengues. They’re dead easy. Important tip numero uno is your whisking bowl must be spotless, the mere hint of grease or whatever will ruin everything (and the world will end). You need 115 grams of sugar per egg white. Whisk the whites till they form soft peeks then gradually whisk in the sugar. Keep whisking away for three or four minutes and your merengue mix should be shiny, silky, smoothy white. Plop or dollop spoonfuls onto greaseproof paper and bake for 35 or so minutes in a preheated 150 degree c oven or until they’re everso slightly golden brownish. Too long and they won’t be chewy – too little and they’ll be raw in the middle. Many thanks to Gwen, my mother-in-law, for this recipe. (She’s not from Yorkshire and can pronounce ice cream, by the way) Her merengues are world famous in our family and it was her that told me the need for potassium hydrogen tartrate, 5% acetic acid, sodium chloride and god-knows-what which other recipes call for is a total waste of time. And as some long-forgotten bard once wrote; “I’d give you my forever but I do not have the time”. Speaking a which it’s time to bugger off….
Tuesday, 22 April 2008
The Spanish Deglutition (part uno)
Mrs B and myself have been in traveling mode; last autumn we were in Barcelona to eat. Which we did packing in twelve meals into two and a half days. Then we were in Devon, at the in-laws, for Christmas. That seemed to be a non-stop food session too. And lastly we’ve invaded Andalusia where we stayed with my folks for a few days in Nerja before doing a four day tour of the surrounding mountains, hills, villages, towns and cities. So, instead of the usual recipes, I thought I’d write down the food we experienced in Barca and southern Spain.
Barthalona
Sunday - Despite living only a few kilometers from Copenhagen Airport Mrs B had bought these ever so cheap Ryan Air tickets out of Malmø which meant getting the bus into town then taking an hour long coach trip into the depths of rural southern Sweden. And because it was Ryan Air we didn’t fly into Barcelona Airport but Girona which means another hour long coach trip into Barca. There was apparently only one taxi on duty and he was ignoring every one of the twenty or thirty souls in the taxi queue so we decided to hike into town from the bus station. Luckily it didn’t take very long so after half an hour or so we arrived at our hotel, Hotel Ingels, situated twenty meters off the Ramblas in the Gothic part of town, at midnight. Everything bar a seven-eleven type place seemed to be shut so we grabbed a few beers (and some water), said goodnight to the myriads of professional ladies on the street and went back to the hotel to crash.
Monday – we’d opted not to go for the hotel breakfast on offer on the grounds that there was no point in filling ourselves up with croissants and rolls and the like when there was a city awaiting to dazzle us with it’s wares. So we buggered across the Ramblas to La Boqueria, the infamous food market. Here it dawned on us that, like in many countries, Monday is a no-no for fish lovers as all the fish stalls bar the ones selling salted cod (bacalao) were shut. Nevermind, we ambled around, avoiding the very popular food bar place (the name escapes me) and it’s very famous and perpetually grinning owner and ended up at a food bar right at the back. Here we waited for a couple of seats to empty after which we could order. Despite the guy next to us necking back a bottle of Cava we opted for coffee (fantastic) and freshly squeezed orange juice to go with our….
Pulpo (octopus) – they had a huge tentacle, all white and purple behind the bar. When cut up into bite sized chunks it was served dressed only in extra virtuous olive oil and a sprinkling of paprika. It was lovely.
Razor clams – I’d been dreaming of eating these ever since we’d booked the plane tickets so the simple fact all the fish places were closed didn’t deter me. So my razor clams weren’t fresh but frozen. But still pretty good, done in oil, garlic and parsley.
Next we meandered off towards another, mucho less famous market where there were more clothes stalls and the like (like = tat). Here we found a food place selling more meaty fare. After much dribbling we decided to share a bowl of the house speciality….
Stew – well there was definitely tripe in it. And probably cheek, knuckle, tail and all of those sort of things. It was very scrummy, a deep, deep flavour seasoned with garlic and paprika. And all the better for being washed down with a couple of San Migs.
Pretty stuffed now we went and did the lazy tourist thing, ie got on one of those sight-seeing buses. Thoroughly recommend it – saw one helluva lot without having to get off our arses. Went past the Olympic stadium and a few other tall buildingy things. It was t-shirt weather so we sat upstairs in the no roof bit and froze our nipples off.
We saw roughly half of the route, the bit from 12 o’clock running backwards to 6 o’clock, saving the rest for the morrow (which we didn’t do). Alighting down near the harbour we zig-zagged around until we found a place I’d read about in a wine magazine; The Cava Bar. Actually called something completely different (El Xampanyet- that must be Catalan humour) it’s a bar renowned for selling cheap cava and cheap buns. And it was PACKED. Full of natives doing what the Catalans (and Spanish as we later learned) do best – eat, drink and scream at each other. We fought our way to the bar, eventually catching the eye of one of the many serving blokes and then ordered…
A plate of cheese and a plate of Serrano ham – nice if not terribly stunning
A bottle of red cava – well EVERYBODY seemed to be drinking it. It was really a tad sweet for us but down it went. Very quickly. Whilst we were standing there enjoying the ambience Mrs B decided she wanted to try one of the baps which were being sold at the speed of light. She went for one with 3 types of pig; lever patê, Serrano ham and hot roast pork. It was very tasty. It came in a thin paper wrapping and when finished you dropped this on the floor.
Feeling ever so slightly affected by the cava we walked back up the Ramblas, taking in all the human statues and lovely flower stalls they have. What isn’t so lovely are the stalls selling live birds. All types of exotic and domestic birds sit in their tiny cages. It was bizarre to see a free pigeon sitting a top a cage containing another pigeon. And it was not nice seeing a cage full of hedgehogs.
There was a bar next to our hotel so we decided to grab a quick beer before having a siesta. We should have seen the omen hovering above us when it turned out all they served was Heineken. Not a single Spanish or Catalan brew did they have. And why oh why did we let ourselves be tempted by the tapas they proudly displayed? Our pre-siesta snack comprised of…..
Grilled cuttlefish – it was rubbish. And smelled funny. And wasn’t freshly grilled. Wasn’t freshly anything. The only redeeming quality it possessed was that it wasn’t quite as bad as the…..
Carpet clams – or whatever they were as they were bigger than the normal, tiny clams I know. And they were foul. The only way to bugger up something as simple as clams done in oil & garlic is if the clams aren’t fresh. We drank up and didn’t leave a tip, hoping we hadn’t just poisoned ourselves.
“Fuck the siesta” I thought “I’m not going to sleep after an experience like that. I might have night (or evening) mares. I might not actually wake up, ever, if the shellfish was as dodgy as I feared”. So we found somewhere else for a bite. Well, actually we didn’t. First we popped into a small bar for a real drink. This place was the terrier’s testicles. A local beer for me and a glass of local red for Mrs B. Strip lights for illumination and a telly showing footie. And an owner who neither spoke nor understood a word of English. I like that. THEN we went looking for solid stuff. Not too easy at six pm as nigh on all local eateries are closed until dinner (8-9 pm). What we found was a rather touristy tapas restaurant (“tapas” & “restaurant” isn’t a natural marriage) where we sat up at the counter and ordered…..
Fried green pimientos – stunningly simple, stunningly moreish. These green chilis are a classic tapas, quite mild apart from the one-out-of-four(or ten depending on the batch) which gets you snorting like a bull (nice Spanishy metaphor, that)
Fried Anchovies – whitebait (or “blanchebait” as the Taverstock Arms in Devon quizzically calls their identical version). Again, simple yet very, very good.
I think I had beer & Mrs B a glass of red with this.
Right, back to the hotel to die for an hour or so before going out for dinner. The restaurant we found at 8pm didn’t of course open til nine so we buggered back to our little drinking hole where the owner’s eyes literally lit up when he saw us. Maybe he couldn’t believe that a couple of tourists would come back for more. It’s rather reassuring to find a bar you can call home. Nicely bevvied we returned to the restaurant at the stroke of a few minutes after nine to find the place packed to the rafters. We must have got the last two seats available. But sit we did, and from my vantage point I could watch the kitchen at work. Mrs B had the honour of being able to watch me. We ordered a lovely bottle of red and then…..
Black Pudding with Rice - Which woz wot it woz. Very rustic and tasty. The B’s do love their black pud.
Smoked Ducks Breast - Thinly sliced and pretty mild.
Two types of liver – One probably goose and the other duck. And very good they were too.
Stuffed to the point of explosion we made our way back to our new “regular” for a digestive. Or few. Mrs B introduced me to carajillo which is simply strong, black coffee laced with loads of brandy. Being inquisitive types we managed to ask our new favourite bar bloke which was the best of the two brands of brandy he had. His reply was to gift us a bucketful of each so we could make up our own minds. Needless to say we were steaming when we left…..
Tuesday - Felt rough, very rough. But at least the copious amounts of wine, beer and local fire water had rendered any smellfish assassins harmless. For breakfast we headed deeper into the Gothic quarter, and after a good look around yet another food market, found a deli-cum-café where we ordered juice, coffee and a couple of baguettes. One contained bacon (hangover cure numero uno) and the other anchovies (hangover cure numero dos) with roquefort.
We slowly made our way down to the seafront, passing en route a huge queue for the Picasso museum. I felt rather pleased I’m such a cultural pleb as the thought of standing in line for a couple of hours only to enter a museum crammed with people jostling for a good view really doesn’t appeal to me. There are loads of restaurants along the seafront, some really expensive ones and some really tacky ones. The tacky ones all seem to use the same, annoying ploy to get bums on seats. A waiter type bloke/twat will come darting out from the outside-table-area and try to drag you into his lair. Like some hideous funnel-web spider the second you pause to look at their menu they’re out “you come, you sit, I speaka da Inglish, come now, good food cheap cheap”. “You speaka da Inglish? Then fuck off chum and leave us alone”
Well, lunchtime arrived as lunchtimes have a habit of doing so over a quick ale in a strange little bar we consulted our Rough Guide as to where to eat next. It transpired that a highly recommended seafood restaurant (Can Ramonet) was but a short walk away so short walk we did. A couple of beers and a bottle of cava (dry and white this time, a wise choice) accompanied the rather swash buckling selections of dishes we, with difficulty, restricted ourselves to……
Oysters - Just half a dozen. These were very good. We must remember to bring a small bottle of Lea & Perrins with us on holiday next time. A drop or two is our preferred accompaniment rather than the classic lemon. It might sound odd but it brings out the nuttiness. I like to think L&P and HP (RIP) hark back to an era when the British knew a thing or two about taste.
Deep fried small fish - Actually we thought we’d ordered whitebait but were rather startled to see the arrival of a plate of, erm, not-so-small fish. This is a local speciality and consists, I guess, of all the fish that can’t be filleted. A couple of them were eel-like, about 20 cm long and sporting huge fangs. The rest were an assortment of largish small fish or smallish large fish. All with piranha dentures. I suppose you’re supposed to eat the whole beast but I didn’t fancy the heads on most of them. I guess I was concerned about getting my throat chewed through from the inside. The taste was nothing near as good as the whitebait we’d had the previous day.
Snails - The Spanish/Catalans love their snails and these came in a rich, tomato and bacon sauce. They were quite earthy. In a good way.
Sea Cucumber - “Got to try that” said we. It was served thinly sliced & cold with salad and a lemony dressing. It’s pretty rubbery, didn’t taste of much and, novelty value aside, not worth the dizzy price. This dish cost almost the same as the rest of the meal together, including drinks. We’ll have to give it another go when we return to the Philippines, where it’ll no doubt be cheaper at least… (Mrs B would like me to say she thought the sea cucumber had the consistency of knicker elastic. I haven’t mustered up the courage to ask her why she’s ever eaten knicker elastic. Or in which situation it happened….)
Whelks - Much more ornate than the English variety, beautiful black and white shells with squiggly bits all over them. Unfortunately they’d blown all their money on their looks coz they didn’t taste anywhere near as good as their pig-ugly cousins from the Albion.
Toast - Done in the local style where you rub tomato and garlic into an olive oil drizzled slice of golden toasted Spanish bread. I must admit I find this even better than bruschetta.
Just around the corner from our hotel we found a booze’n’tin shop. Tinned shellfish is exceedingly popular in Spain. The variety is really impressive compared to what we’re used to (mussels, squid and, erm, well that’s it) in Denmark. Loads of types of clams in different sizes and in different sauces. We picked up a selection as well as a couple of bottles of local cider. Wicked stuff that, quite scrumpy-ish. Makes your insides shudder.
Our pre-siesta meal took place at the tapas restaurant we visited yesterday. Not our best nor most adventurous decision nor was our choice of tapas fully successful but we were knackered and all the nice places were shut. So we ordered a jug of Sangria and…..
Potatas Bravas - Chips by any other name. And good chips too, with a nice mojo sauce as well as some aioli.
Deep Fried Artichoke Tips - Why oh why did I order these? Dull and greasy.
Pickled Anchovies on a skewer with chillis and caper berries - Should have ordered more just to cut through all the grease from the artery-chokes
Jamon Serrano - Noone apparently does dried ham like the Spanish. It’s amazing. And no frills, just a big plate of the stuff.
After a siesta and a half it was time to think food again. By this time we definitely weren’t driven by hunger. In between stuffing ourselves I suppose we’ve been quite good really because, due to our inability to decide on where to eat and the variety of options on offer, we didn’t half peg around a lot. For our last “dinner” of the trip we opted for a restaurant due to one dish on its menu; baby goat. I was a little apprehensive about the establishment as it seemed a bit touristy (menu in various languages) but I was proven very wrong. So with our excellent bottle of Rioja we ordered….
Another plate of green pimientos – My name is Mr B and I’m an addict. They’re my version of crack cocaine. One hit and you’re hooked.
Baby goat ribs - I wish they’d called them Ribs of Kids. If they had I think I would have stolen one of their menus. These were tiny, succulent chops, roasted in garlic and on a bed of fried potatoes cut into match sticks. The portion was huge and it was some of the nicest meat I’ve ever had.
Grilled baby squid - Very simply done, just garlic and olive oil. And they were superb. Served with some strange green stuff. Oh yeah, SALAD! The first fresh veg-like food to enter our systems for over 48 hours (apart from chillis, garlic, parsley and wine of course).
After a night cap at our local (our last visit of the trip so it was very emotional) it was waddle-off-to-bed time.
Wednesday - Breakfast at La Boqueria, same food bar as our first meal. I plumped for a standard breakfast fare; Carpet clams. In olive oil, garlic and parsley. Wow oh wow. So tasty I was gobsmacked. The clams were sweet, the sauce perfect.
Mrs B went for the white pudding, or hogs pudding as it’s sometimes known. A sausage some might even say. In a rich, tomato sauce it was meaty and excellent. Note to myself: remember to omit the bread when I next make sausages. If you’re ever in Barcelona you should eat at this place. They had loads more stuff we wanted to try. Oh well, we’ll be back…..
After a visit to the local Carrefour supermarket to stock up on sausages, cheese, serrano, green chillis, paprika, tins and god-knows-what we made back to our hotel to pack, pay and piss-off. Amazingly we could cram everything into our hand luggage. And equally amazingly we could just about lift it off the floor.
Like sherpas carrying the kitchen sink et al up Everest we dragged our abused organisms off in the direction of the coach station. We bought a tub of mango and melon from a market stall which may have been the first “sensible” purchase of the trip. It was as if every molecule in our bodies cried “thank you” as we ate it.
Our last meal of our tour-de-excess was taken in a café not far from the coach station. The people running it looked Asian but the menu was very Spanish and pretty vast. As we admired the one-armed bandits and illuminated pictures of baguettes we ordered….
Potatas bravas - Again. But I suppose being English you’re genetically programmed to order chips in a transport “caff”.
Pigs Ears - Another one of our “never-had-that-before-got-to-try-it moments”. We tried it….. and we left it. The ears were so fatty and tasteless they had simply nothing going for them. Shame they were served in half a liter of oil. Maybe a good, strongly flavoured sauce would have made them palatable. Naaa, don’t think so.
Baby Octopi. Or octopusses. Or octopussies. Or maybe just octopus - These were pretty good tho’. You often get vinegar as well as olive oil as table condiments so a little drizzle of the acidic one did wonders for these small critters. It was also fitting as we’d managed to eat all the cephalopods in 2 ½ days (squid, cuttlefish, large and tiny octopus).
Boquerones en vinagre– these are pickled anchovy filets drizzled with olive oil. They are seriously good. Having to choose between these and the fried green chilis would be like having to chose between a Chateau Debbie Harry ’78 and a Chateau Billie Holliday ’39.
Well, that was that. We spent a while at the coach station hunting for a ticket machine or office before it suddenly dawned on me that we’d purchased return tickets when we’d arrived. That’s what 60 hours of food, booze and more food does to you. All in all it had been a fantastic trip. We’d had some dodgy meals and we’d hit the jackpot more than a few times. We’d tried market stalls, cafeterias, bars and restaurants. We will be back. Hopefully for a bit longer so we don’t have to cram SO many meals into each day. Actually the meals in themselves were generally tiny; a portion of clams looks impressive but I doubt the meat content was more than a small handful. The kids ribs were mostly bone, snails & whelks are fiddly (and fun) and so on and so on. I think next time we’ll have to eat more fruit and veg. Or we might not survive…..
Barthalona
Sunday - Despite living only a few kilometers from Copenhagen Airport Mrs B had bought these ever so cheap Ryan Air tickets out of Malmø which meant getting the bus into town then taking an hour long coach trip into the depths of rural southern Sweden. And because it was Ryan Air we didn’t fly into Barcelona Airport but Girona which means another hour long coach trip into Barca. There was apparently only one taxi on duty and he was ignoring every one of the twenty or thirty souls in the taxi queue so we decided to hike into town from the bus station. Luckily it didn’t take very long so after half an hour or so we arrived at our hotel, Hotel Ingels, situated twenty meters off the Ramblas in the Gothic part of town, at midnight. Everything bar a seven-eleven type place seemed to be shut so we grabbed a few beers (and some water), said goodnight to the myriads of professional ladies on the street and went back to the hotel to crash.
Monday – we’d opted not to go for the hotel breakfast on offer on the grounds that there was no point in filling ourselves up with croissants and rolls and the like when there was a city awaiting to dazzle us with it’s wares. So we buggered across the Ramblas to La Boqueria, the infamous food market. Here it dawned on us that, like in many countries, Monday is a no-no for fish lovers as all the fish stalls bar the ones selling salted cod (bacalao) were shut. Nevermind, we ambled around, avoiding the very popular food bar place (the name escapes me) and it’s very famous and perpetually grinning owner and ended up at a food bar right at the back. Here we waited for a couple of seats to empty after which we could order. Despite the guy next to us necking back a bottle of Cava we opted for coffee (fantastic) and freshly squeezed orange juice to go with our….
Pulpo (octopus) – they had a huge tentacle, all white and purple behind the bar. When cut up into bite sized chunks it was served dressed only in extra virtuous olive oil and a sprinkling of paprika. It was lovely.
Razor clams – I’d been dreaming of eating these ever since we’d booked the plane tickets so the simple fact all the fish places were closed didn’t deter me. So my razor clams weren’t fresh but frozen. But still pretty good, done in oil, garlic and parsley.
Next we meandered off towards another, mucho less famous market where there were more clothes stalls and the like (like = tat). Here we found a food place selling more meaty fare. After much dribbling we decided to share a bowl of the house speciality….
Stew – well there was definitely tripe in it. And probably cheek, knuckle, tail and all of those sort of things. It was very scrummy, a deep, deep flavour seasoned with garlic and paprika. And all the better for being washed down with a couple of San Migs.
Pretty stuffed now we went and did the lazy tourist thing, ie got on one of those sight-seeing buses. Thoroughly recommend it – saw one helluva lot without having to get off our arses. Went past the Olympic stadium and a few other tall buildingy things. It was t-shirt weather so we sat upstairs in the no roof bit and froze our nipples off.
We saw roughly half of the route, the bit from 12 o’clock running backwards to 6 o’clock, saving the rest for the morrow (which we didn’t do). Alighting down near the harbour we zig-zagged around until we found a place I’d read about in a wine magazine; The Cava Bar. Actually called something completely different (El Xampanyet- that must be Catalan humour) it’s a bar renowned for selling cheap cava and cheap buns. And it was PACKED. Full of natives doing what the Catalans (and Spanish as we later learned) do best – eat, drink and scream at each other. We fought our way to the bar, eventually catching the eye of one of the many serving blokes and then ordered…
A plate of cheese and a plate of Serrano ham – nice if not terribly stunning
A bottle of red cava – well EVERYBODY seemed to be drinking it. It was really a tad sweet for us but down it went. Very quickly. Whilst we were standing there enjoying the ambience Mrs B decided she wanted to try one of the baps which were being sold at the speed of light. She went for one with 3 types of pig; lever patê, Serrano ham and hot roast pork. It was very tasty. It came in a thin paper wrapping and when finished you dropped this on the floor.
Feeling ever so slightly affected by the cava we walked back up the Ramblas, taking in all the human statues and lovely flower stalls they have. What isn’t so lovely are the stalls selling live birds. All types of exotic and domestic birds sit in their tiny cages. It was bizarre to see a free pigeon sitting a top a cage containing another pigeon. And it was not nice seeing a cage full of hedgehogs.
There was a bar next to our hotel so we decided to grab a quick beer before having a siesta. We should have seen the omen hovering above us when it turned out all they served was Heineken. Not a single Spanish or Catalan brew did they have. And why oh why did we let ourselves be tempted by the tapas they proudly displayed? Our pre-siesta snack comprised of…..
Grilled cuttlefish – it was rubbish. And smelled funny. And wasn’t freshly grilled. Wasn’t freshly anything. The only redeeming quality it possessed was that it wasn’t quite as bad as the…..
Carpet clams – or whatever they were as they were bigger than the normal, tiny clams I know. And they were foul. The only way to bugger up something as simple as clams done in oil & garlic is if the clams aren’t fresh. We drank up and didn’t leave a tip, hoping we hadn’t just poisoned ourselves.
“Fuck the siesta” I thought “I’m not going to sleep after an experience like that. I might have night (or evening) mares. I might not actually wake up, ever, if the shellfish was as dodgy as I feared”. So we found somewhere else for a bite. Well, actually we didn’t. First we popped into a small bar for a real drink. This place was the terrier’s testicles. A local beer for me and a glass of local red for Mrs B. Strip lights for illumination and a telly showing footie. And an owner who neither spoke nor understood a word of English. I like that. THEN we went looking for solid stuff. Not too easy at six pm as nigh on all local eateries are closed until dinner (8-9 pm). What we found was a rather touristy tapas restaurant (“tapas” & “restaurant” isn’t a natural marriage) where we sat up at the counter and ordered…..
Fried green pimientos – stunningly simple, stunningly moreish. These green chilis are a classic tapas, quite mild apart from the one-out-of-four(or ten depending on the batch) which gets you snorting like a bull (nice Spanishy metaphor, that)
Fried Anchovies – whitebait (or “blanchebait” as the Taverstock Arms in Devon quizzically calls their identical version). Again, simple yet very, very good.
I think I had beer & Mrs B a glass of red with this.
Right, back to the hotel to die for an hour or so before going out for dinner. The restaurant we found at 8pm didn’t of course open til nine so we buggered back to our little drinking hole where the owner’s eyes literally lit up when he saw us. Maybe he couldn’t believe that a couple of tourists would come back for more. It’s rather reassuring to find a bar you can call home. Nicely bevvied we returned to the restaurant at the stroke of a few minutes after nine to find the place packed to the rafters. We must have got the last two seats available. But sit we did, and from my vantage point I could watch the kitchen at work. Mrs B had the honour of being able to watch me. We ordered a lovely bottle of red and then…..
Black Pudding with Rice - Which woz wot it woz. Very rustic and tasty. The B’s do love their black pud.
Smoked Ducks Breast - Thinly sliced and pretty mild.
Two types of liver – One probably goose and the other duck. And very good they were too.
Stuffed to the point of explosion we made our way back to our new “regular” for a digestive. Or few. Mrs B introduced me to carajillo which is simply strong, black coffee laced with loads of brandy. Being inquisitive types we managed to ask our new favourite bar bloke which was the best of the two brands of brandy he had. His reply was to gift us a bucketful of each so we could make up our own minds. Needless to say we were steaming when we left…..
Tuesday - Felt rough, very rough. But at least the copious amounts of wine, beer and local fire water had rendered any smellfish assassins harmless. For breakfast we headed deeper into the Gothic quarter, and after a good look around yet another food market, found a deli-cum-café where we ordered juice, coffee and a couple of baguettes. One contained bacon (hangover cure numero uno) and the other anchovies (hangover cure numero dos) with roquefort.
We slowly made our way down to the seafront, passing en route a huge queue for the Picasso museum. I felt rather pleased I’m such a cultural pleb as the thought of standing in line for a couple of hours only to enter a museum crammed with people jostling for a good view really doesn’t appeal to me. There are loads of restaurants along the seafront, some really expensive ones and some really tacky ones. The tacky ones all seem to use the same, annoying ploy to get bums on seats. A waiter type bloke/twat will come darting out from the outside-table-area and try to drag you into his lair. Like some hideous funnel-web spider the second you pause to look at their menu they’re out “you come, you sit, I speaka da Inglish, come now, good food cheap cheap”. “You speaka da Inglish? Then fuck off chum and leave us alone”
Well, lunchtime arrived as lunchtimes have a habit of doing so over a quick ale in a strange little bar we consulted our Rough Guide as to where to eat next. It transpired that a highly recommended seafood restaurant (Can Ramonet) was but a short walk away so short walk we did. A couple of beers and a bottle of cava (dry and white this time, a wise choice) accompanied the rather swash buckling selections of dishes we, with difficulty, restricted ourselves to……
Oysters - Just half a dozen. These were very good. We must remember to bring a small bottle of Lea & Perrins with us on holiday next time. A drop or two is our preferred accompaniment rather than the classic lemon. It might sound odd but it brings out the nuttiness. I like to think L&P and HP (RIP) hark back to an era when the British knew a thing or two about taste.
Deep fried small fish - Actually we thought we’d ordered whitebait but were rather startled to see the arrival of a plate of, erm, not-so-small fish. This is a local speciality and consists, I guess, of all the fish that can’t be filleted. A couple of them were eel-like, about 20 cm long and sporting huge fangs. The rest were an assortment of largish small fish or smallish large fish. All with piranha dentures. I suppose you’re supposed to eat the whole beast but I didn’t fancy the heads on most of them. I guess I was concerned about getting my throat chewed through from the inside. The taste was nothing near as good as the whitebait we’d had the previous day.
Snails - The Spanish/Catalans love their snails and these came in a rich, tomato and bacon sauce. They were quite earthy. In a good way.
Sea Cucumber - “Got to try that” said we. It was served thinly sliced & cold with salad and a lemony dressing. It’s pretty rubbery, didn’t taste of much and, novelty value aside, not worth the dizzy price. This dish cost almost the same as the rest of the meal together, including drinks. We’ll have to give it another go when we return to the Philippines, where it’ll no doubt be cheaper at least… (Mrs B would like me to say she thought the sea cucumber had the consistency of knicker elastic. I haven’t mustered up the courage to ask her why she’s ever eaten knicker elastic. Or in which situation it happened….)
Whelks - Much more ornate than the English variety, beautiful black and white shells with squiggly bits all over them. Unfortunately they’d blown all their money on their looks coz they didn’t taste anywhere near as good as their pig-ugly cousins from the Albion.
Toast - Done in the local style where you rub tomato and garlic into an olive oil drizzled slice of golden toasted Spanish bread. I must admit I find this even better than bruschetta.
Just around the corner from our hotel we found a booze’n’tin shop. Tinned shellfish is exceedingly popular in Spain. The variety is really impressive compared to what we’re used to (mussels, squid and, erm, well that’s it) in Denmark. Loads of types of clams in different sizes and in different sauces. We picked up a selection as well as a couple of bottles of local cider. Wicked stuff that, quite scrumpy-ish. Makes your insides shudder.
Our pre-siesta meal took place at the tapas restaurant we visited yesterday. Not our best nor most adventurous decision nor was our choice of tapas fully successful but we were knackered and all the nice places were shut. So we ordered a jug of Sangria and…..
Potatas Bravas - Chips by any other name. And good chips too, with a nice mojo sauce as well as some aioli.
Deep Fried Artichoke Tips - Why oh why did I order these? Dull and greasy.
Pickled Anchovies on a skewer with chillis and caper berries - Should have ordered more just to cut through all the grease from the artery-chokes
Jamon Serrano - Noone apparently does dried ham like the Spanish. It’s amazing. And no frills, just a big plate of the stuff.
After a siesta and a half it was time to think food again. By this time we definitely weren’t driven by hunger. In between stuffing ourselves I suppose we’ve been quite good really because, due to our inability to decide on where to eat and the variety of options on offer, we didn’t half peg around a lot. For our last “dinner” of the trip we opted for a restaurant due to one dish on its menu; baby goat. I was a little apprehensive about the establishment as it seemed a bit touristy (menu in various languages) but I was proven very wrong. So with our excellent bottle of Rioja we ordered….
Another plate of green pimientos – My name is Mr B and I’m an addict. They’re my version of crack cocaine. One hit and you’re hooked.
Baby goat ribs - I wish they’d called them Ribs of Kids. If they had I think I would have stolen one of their menus. These were tiny, succulent chops, roasted in garlic and on a bed of fried potatoes cut into match sticks. The portion was huge and it was some of the nicest meat I’ve ever had.
Grilled baby squid - Very simply done, just garlic and olive oil. And they were superb. Served with some strange green stuff. Oh yeah, SALAD! The first fresh veg-like food to enter our systems for over 48 hours (apart from chillis, garlic, parsley and wine of course).
After a night cap at our local (our last visit of the trip so it was very emotional) it was waddle-off-to-bed time.
Wednesday - Breakfast at La Boqueria, same food bar as our first meal. I plumped for a standard breakfast fare; Carpet clams. In olive oil, garlic and parsley. Wow oh wow. So tasty I was gobsmacked. The clams were sweet, the sauce perfect.
Mrs B went for the white pudding, or hogs pudding as it’s sometimes known. A sausage some might even say. In a rich, tomato sauce it was meaty and excellent. Note to myself: remember to omit the bread when I next make sausages. If you’re ever in Barcelona you should eat at this place. They had loads more stuff we wanted to try. Oh well, we’ll be back…..
After a visit to the local Carrefour supermarket to stock up on sausages, cheese, serrano, green chillis, paprika, tins and god-knows-what we made back to our hotel to pack, pay and piss-off. Amazingly we could cram everything into our hand luggage. And equally amazingly we could just about lift it off the floor.
Like sherpas carrying the kitchen sink et al up Everest we dragged our abused organisms off in the direction of the coach station. We bought a tub of mango and melon from a market stall which may have been the first “sensible” purchase of the trip. It was as if every molecule in our bodies cried “thank you” as we ate it.
Our last meal of our tour-de-excess was taken in a café not far from the coach station. The people running it looked Asian but the menu was very Spanish and pretty vast. As we admired the one-armed bandits and illuminated pictures of baguettes we ordered….
Potatas bravas - Again. But I suppose being English you’re genetically programmed to order chips in a transport “caff”.
Pigs Ears - Another one of our “never-had-that-before-got-to-try-it moments”. We tried it….. and we left it. The ears were so fatty and tasteless they had simply nothing going for them. Shame they were served in half a liter of oil. Maybe a good, strongly flavoured sauce would have made them palatable. Naaa, don’t think so.
Baby Octopi. Or octopusses. Or octopussies. Or maybe just octopus - These were pretty good tho’. You often get vinegar as well as olive oil as table condiments so a little drizzle of the acidic one did wonders for these small critters. It was also fitting as we’d managed to eat all the cephalopods in 2 ½ days (squid, cuttlefish, large and tiny octopus).
Boquerones en vinagre– these are pickled anchovy filets drizzled with olive oil. They are seriously good. Having to choose between these and the fried green chilis would be like having to chose between a Chateau Debbie Harry ’78 and a Chateau Billie Holliday ’39.
Well, that was that. We spent a while at the coach station hunting for a ticket machine or office before it suddenly dawned on me that we’d purchased return tickets when we’d arrived. That’s what 60 hours of food, booze and more food does to you. All in all it had been a fantastic trip. We’d had some dodgy meals and we’d hit the jackpot more than a few times. We’d tried market stalls, cafeterias, bars and restaurants. We will be back. Hopefully for a bit longer so we don’t have to cram SO many meals into each day. Actually the meals in themselves were generally tiny; a portion of clams looks impressive but I doubt the meat content was more than a small handful. The kids ribs were mostly bone, snails & whelks are fiddly (and fun) and so on and so on. I think next time we’ll have to eat more fruit and veg. Or we might not survive…..
Saturday, 23 February 2008
Pigs.....In......Sauce......
Dinner last night was such an unmitigated success that I just had to write it down before yet another tumbler full of brain cells get washed out to sea. It all started two days ago. I was sofabound, rendered a zombie by some weird viral force whilst Mrs B was out doing what Mrs B does best – partying. The telly was absolute tripe; I seemed to have the choice between reality “shows”, cross country skiing (why would anyone want to ski uphill?), Danish 1950’s films, Danish 1940’s films, loads of films with Wesley Snipes and a myriad of mind numbing series (doctors, nurses, hospitals, paramedics, hairdressers etc). Honestly, where is Taggart when you need him? Anyway, I was too inert to turn the fecker off so I snuggled up to BBC Food (after making sure Ainsley was nowhere in sight). Along came Gordon Ramsey with his F Word offering. I find this programme very contrived, his restaurant ghastly, his mingling with and sucking up to minor celebs painfully embarrassing (especially when he “subtly” tries to take the piss out of them) and Gordon, MATE, stop rubbing your fucking face all the time. You’re a chef in a kitchen on telly for godssake. No wonder your face looks like Gandi’s arse. And anyway, it’s not hygienic. And whilst I’m ranting Giorgio Locatelli GET A BLEEDING HAIRCUT. I cringe when I see him touching food, which someone will soon eat, whilst all the time trying to get that annoying, greasy hair to stay behind his ear. There’s a reason why people who work in food processing have to wear hairnets. I’ve seen Jammy Wallyver touch his nose (the nostril end like he was pinching off a snot drop) way too many times and Nigel Lawson In Drag is forever sucking her/his fingers. It’s foul. Yours truly, Angry of Mayfair….
But I digress, Gordon Ramsey has a couple of things going for him. Out of the restaurant he can be genuinely funny and THE MAN CAN COOK. He is quite brilliant, God knows how good his programme would be if he spent it just cooking. As it was I waded through the pond of poo and emerged with a golden nugget in my welly in the form of Mr Ramsey’s recipe for puréed cauliflower. Ta Gord….
Next bit of the dish came about at work. I’d dragged myself out of bed feeling better for lots of sleep (and sampling a few of the more exotic bottles in our drinks cupboard). During my lunch break (Heinz tomato soup with chunks of mature cheddar gently melting in it – mmmmm) I was reading one of those freebie newspapers and stumbled across a recipe by a well known Danish chef called Bo Bech. In Dansk this dish calls for pigs’ jaws although I think the Ingerlish would call them cheeks. In fact they’re jaw muscles. Jowls I suppose. Yes, jowls they shall be know as. In fish they’re a favourite of mine, a salmon or seatrout has penny sized ones, soft and succulent like tiny oysters. In mammals they require long, slow cooking. Hr Bech did his jaws with beer and parsley. I used English cider (scrumpy), onions and sage. But the basic recipe is deffo his so “tak”.
The final part of this tale happened in our local supermarket whilst looking for something “nice and easy” for dinner. A steak maybe or some calves liver. But fate would have it that I found a packet of pigs’ jaws. Jowls, sorry. Unless you read the package you’d never guess what they were as they look like large cubes of pork. I’ve never seen them before but I suppose I would have expected some bone and a few teeth. So into my basket they went, I came home and cooked ‘em. And this here be the recipe for…
Pork Jowls In Cider with Cauliflower Purée
Makes 2 main courses or 6 starters
Cauliflower Purée
½ a cauliflower in florets
Olive oil
1 glug of milk
1 splurge of cream
Salt and pepper
Soften the cauliflower gently in the oil. It doesn’t want to take on any colour. Add the milk and simmer until they’re just cooked. If the milk catches a little don’t worry, just don’t scrape the bottom of the pan. Luzz in some cream, chuck into a blender and blitz. This, as Gordon so correctly pointed out, has to be done whilst everything is piping hot otherwise you won’t get that silky smooth finish. And, which Gord didn’t say, remember to leave an escape route for the steam (this is why most blenders have that odd shaped bit on the lid that doesn’t quite cover the jug spout) otherwise you risk a little boiling hot explosion. I hold the lid on with a tea towel just to be on the safe side. Once whizzed season with salt and pepper. Beware: this stuff is seriously moreish and can be used in an endless variety of dishes.
Pigs’ Jowls in Cider
6 pigs’ jowls
I large onion
1 large carrot
1 parsnip
A few cloves of garlic (I used loads of course)
50 cl of dry English scrumpy (I used Weston’s Old Rosie)
A bunch of fresh sage leaves
Salt and pepper
Brown the jowls in a little oil. (I use a pot that works both on the hob and in the oven. Otherwise use a frying pan and transfer to a roasting dish, remembering to deglaze the pan.) Add the cider (it should almost cover the meat – if not add some water, or more cider…), a few sage leaves, some pepper (but no salt), cover and bung in a 150 degree celsius oven for 1 ½ hours. In the meantime finely chop your onion and soften in some oil or butter. Peel and dice your root veg. Peel the garlic cloves, leaving them whole. All these go into the pot after the 1 ½ hours for a further 30-40 minutes or until the veg is just cooked. Deffo don’t want mushy veg. Remove from the oven and let rest for half an hour or so before taking out the jowls. This resting time is rather important as the meat soaks up the juices as it relaxes. Like I do. Drain the stock from the veg, discarding the sage. The veg should be kept warm. Now, in a frying pan reduce the stock until it is thick and syrupy. It is at this point that you can season with salt (and perhaps more pepper). Add some finely chopped sage then the jowls. Turn them over so they’re covered in this rich, sticky goo and bingo – they’re ready. I fried some sage leaves as garnish which really worked. And this is a dish which, in looks alone, is worthy of a very expensive restaurant. I placed the jowls amid a puddle of the velvety cauliflower purée, scattered the veg around a bit, drizzled the last sticky drops of sauce over the meat and then lay a few sage leaves on top of it all. These things melt in your mouth yet are moist and succulent in a way which other cuts of oink can’t quite match. I will never be able to pass by a butchers or a supermarket without looking for pigs’ jowls again.
But I digress, Gordon Ramsey has a couple of things going for him. Out of the restaurant he can be genuinely funny and THE MAN CAN COOK. He is quite brilliant, God knows how good his programme would be if he spent it just cooking. As it was I waded through the pond of poo and emerged with a golden nugget in my welly in the form of Mr Ramsey’s recipe for puréed cauliflower. Ta Gord….
Next bit of the dish came about at work. I’d dragged myself out of bed feeling better for lots of sleep (and sampling a few of the more exotic bottles in our drinks cupboard). During my lunch break (Heinz tomato soup with chunks of mature cheddar gently melting in it – mmmmm) I was reading one of those freebie newspapers and stumbled across a recipe by a well known Danish chef called Bo Bech. In Dansk this dish calls for pigs’ jaws although I think the Ingerlish would call them cheeks. In fact they’re jaw muscles. Jowls I suppose. Yes, jowls they shall be know as. In fish they’re a favourite of mine, a salmon or seatrout has penny sized ones, soft and succulent like tiny oysters. In mammals they require long, slow cooking. Hr Bech did his jaws with beer and parsley. I used English cider (scrumpy), onions and sage. But the basic recipe is deffo his so “tak”.
The final part of this tale happened in our local supermarket whilst looking for something “nice and easy” for dinner. A steak maybe or some calves liver. But fate would have it that I found a packet of pigs’ jaws. Jowls, sorry. Unless you read the package you’d never guess what they were as they look like large cubes of pork. I’ve never seen them before but I suppose I would have expected some bone and a few teeth. So into my basket they went, I came home and cooked ‘em. And this here be the recipe for…
Pork Jowls In Cider with Cauliflower Purée
Makes 2 main courses or 6 starters
Cauliflower Purée
½ a cauliflower in florets
Olive oil
1 glug of milk
1 splurge of cream
Salt and pepper
Soften the cauliflower gently in the oil. It doesn’t want to take on any colour. Add the milk and simmer until they’re just cooked. If the milk catches a little don’t worry, just don’t scrape the bottom of the pan. Luzz in some cream, chuck into a blender and blitz. This, as Gordon so correctly pointed out, has to be done whilst everything is piping hot otherwise you won’t get that silky smooth finish. And, which Gord didn’t say, remember to leave an escape route for the steam (this is why most blenders have that odd shaped bit on the lid that doesn’t quite cover the jug spout) otherwise you risk a little boiling hot explosion. I hold the lid on with a tea towel just to be on the safe side. Once whizzed season with salt and pepper. Beware: this stuff is seriously moreish and can be used in an endless variety of dishes.
Pigs’ Jowls in Cider
6 pigs’ jowls
I large onion
1 large carrot
1 parsnip
A few cloves of garlic (I used loads of course)
50 cl of dry English scrumpy (I used Weston’s Old Rosie)
A bunch of fresh sage leaves
Salt and pepper
Brown the jowls in a little oil. (I use a pot that works both on the hob and in the oven. Otherwise use a frying pan and transfer to a roasting dish, remembering to deglaze the pan.) Add the cider (it should almost cover the meat – if not add some water, or more cider…), a few sage leaves, some pepper (but no salt), cover and bung in a 150 degree celsius oven for 1 ½ hours. In the meantime finely chop your onion and soften in some oil or butter. Peel and dice your root veg. Peel the garlic cloves, leaving them whole. All these go into the pot after the 1 ½ hours for a further 30-40 minutes or until the veg is just cooked. Deffo don’t want mushy veg. Remove from the oven and let rest for half an hour or so before taking out the jowls. This resting time is rather important as the meat soaks up the juices as it relaxes. Like I do. Drain the stock from the veg, discarding the sage. The veg should be kept warm. Now, in a frying pan reduce the stock until it is thick and syrupy. It is at this point that you can season with salt (and perhaps more pepper). Add some finely chopped sage then the jowls. Turn them over so they’re covered in this rich, sticky goo and bingo – they’re ready. I fried some sage leaves as garnish which really worked. And this is a dish which, in looks alone, is worthy of a very expensive restaurant. I placed the jowls amid a puddle of the velvety cauliflower purée, scattered the veg around a bit, drizzled the last sticky drops of sauce over the meat and then lay a few sage leaves on top of it all. These things melt in your mouth yet are moist and succulent in a way which other cuts of oink can’t quite match. I will never be able to pass by a butchers or a supermarket without looking for pigs’ jowls again.
Monday, 27 August 2007
Thai Me Up & Spank Me
It’s a hard life. It’s Monday morning, I’ve got a week off, I’m on my third cup of tea, the Test Match Special is on the ‘puter & I’m tucking into the leftovers of yesterday’s Thai seafood salad. T’is a very versatile dish, Thai (insert protein) salad. Once the basic noodle & dressing bit is sorted you can chuck a whole variety of veggies, meats and/or fishy things into/onto it. Some recipes for this call for a staggering amount of raw onion which is a shame really coz the dish is all about balance, each mouthful ought to offer something different depending on which morsels sneak into your gob with the noodles.
Basic Thai Glass Noodle Salad
100g glass noodles (serves 2)
Juice of 3 limes
Good glugg of fish sauce
Pinch of sugar
A couple of red bird’s eye chillies finely chopped
A cucumber cut into small inch long sticks
1 small red onion or a couple of shallots sliced into semi rings
A handful of coriander leaves
The noodles are soaked in hot water for 3 or so minutes. As soon as they’re al bundy you bung them in cold water then drain. Then you mix the lime juice, fish sauce, sugar & chillies, tasting to make sure the balance is right. Chuck everything together & now you’re ready to add your whatnots of choice……
A Choice Of Whatnots
Seafood – we had mussels, prawns & squid yesterday. I steamed the mussels, removing them as soon as they opened. We had a kilo which was rather a lot so I saved the biggest 20 for a Spanishy tapas thing (see below). The juice was then strained & added to a pint of so of water, some tamarind paste, sliced ginger & a few whole cloves of garlic. The squid & prawns were “barely” cooked in this broth, which can be used for making soup with. The garlic was added to the salad.
Cow – marinate a nice, lean steak in olive oil, black pepper & garlic. Flash fry it on all sides, leave it to rest then slice it thinly. We like our meat still mooing in the middle, it should at most be rare.
Duck's Breast – Done like the cow but should be pink not rare
Tuna – Rub olive oil into a nice, thick tuna steak. Season then flash fry it on all sides. As soon as the last bit of “flipping” has taken place pour a good slurp each of soy sauce & balsamic vinegar into the pan. It’s all-action stuff as the liquid will spit & splatter. Turn the tuna over in it before removing. Now reduce to a thick syrup which you then spooned over the fish. You can roll it in toasted sesame seeds if you want. When cool it’s sliced. Like the steak it should be raw in the middle. It’s also very impressive visually.
Minced Pork – Fry the pork “hard” to evaporate any liquid it might contain. Add minced garlic, shrimp paste, pepper, fish sauce & a pinch of sugar.
Veggies – Carrot cut into sticks, mange tout, asparagus, baby sweet corn, spring onions, bean sprouts, even halved cherry tomatoes. They’re not very “Thai” but their acidity suits the dish well.
Topping – A handful of dried shrimps get a good pestling in a mortar then fried, adding chopped ginger, shallot & garlic. When they’re all nice & crispy they’re sprinkled atop the salad. The garlic & ginger, especially, are rather essential to the dish imo. Make sure the garlic doesn’t burn.
Finally a little fresh mint can be added along with the coriander leaves for a slightly Vietnamesey twist.
You might need to tweak the dish with some more lime juice and/or fish sauce before serving.
Garlic Mussels
Terribly simple yet totally moreish. A couple of cloves of minced garlic are mixed with olive oil, pepper & finely chopped parsley. Place the barely steamed mussels (left in one of their valves) on a baking tray adding a spoonful of garlic goo to each. A sprinkling of fine bread crumbs can be added too for a toasty effect. Grill for a minute or so and serve with crusty bread.
Basic Thai Glass Noodle Salad
100g glass noodles (serves 2)
Juice of 3 limes
Good glugg of fish sauce
Pinch of sugar
A couple of red bird’s eye chillies finely chopped
A cucumber cut into small inch long sticks
1 small red onion or a couple of shallots sliced into semi rings
A handful of coriander leaves
The noodles are soaked in hot water for 3 or so minutes. As soon as they’re al bundy you bung them in cold water then drain. Then you mix the lime juice, fish sauce, sugar & chillies, tasting to make sure the balance is right. Chuck everything together & now you’re ready to add your whatnots of choice……
A Choice Of Whatnots
Seafood – we had mussels, prawns & squid yesterday. I steamed the mussels, removing them as soon as they opened. We had a kilo which was rather a lot so I saved the biggest 20 for a Spanishy tapas thing (see below). The juice was then strained & added to a pint of so of water, some tamarind paste, sliced ginger & a few whole cloves of garlic. The squid & prawns were “barely” cooked in this broth, which can be used for making soup with. The garlic was added to the salad.
Cow – marinate a nice, lean steak in olive oil, black pepper & garlic. Flash fry it on all sides, leave it to rest then slice it thinly. We like our meat still mooing in the middle, it should at most be rare.
Duck's Breast – Done like the cow but should be pink not rare
Tuna – Rub olive oil into a nice, thick tuna steak. Season then flash fry it on all sides. As soon as the last bit of “flipping” has taken place pour a good slurp each of soy sauce & balsamic vinegar into the pan. It’s all-action stuff as the liquid will spit & splatter. Turn the tuna over in it before removing. Now reduce to a thick syrup which you then spooned over the fish. You can roll it in toasted sesame seeds if you want. When cool it’s sliced. Like the steak it should be raw in the middle. It’s also very impressive visually.
Minced Pork – Fry the pork “hard” to evaporate any liquid it might contain. Add minced garlic, shrimp paste, pepper, fish sauce & a pinch of sugar.
Veggies – Carrot cut into sticks, mange tout, asparagus, baby sweet corn, spring onions, bean sprouts, even halved cherry tomatoes. They’re not very “Thai” but their acidity suits the dish well.
Topping – A handful of dried shrimps get a good pestling in a mortar then fried, adding chopped ginger, shallot & garlic. When they’re all nice & crispy they’re sprinkled atop the salad. The garlic & ginger, especially, are rather essential to the dish imo. Make sure the garlic doesn’t burn.
Finally a little fresh mint can be added along with the coriander leaves for a slightly Vietnamesey twist.
You might need to tweak the dish with some more lime juice and/or fish sauce before serving.
Garlic Mussels
Terribly simple yet totally moreish. A couple of cloves of minced garlic are mixed with olive oil, pepper & finely chopped parsley. Place the barely steamed mussels (left in one of their valves) on a baking tray adding a spoonful of garlic goo to each. A sprinkling of fine bread crumbs can be added too for a toasty effect. Grill for a minute or so and serve with crusty bread.
Thursday, 23 August 2007
Bangers & Cash
I think sausage making rocks. Homemade sausages are generally eons better than anything you can buy. Basically because you can guarantee the quality and quantity of the meat going into them. Years back I knew a butcher who worked in a supermarket and she told me the story of how a nice piece of pork would be removed from the display fridge once it had reached its sell-by date, get sliced into chops & returned with a new date. This would repeat itself, the meat becoming cubes, then mince, then "homemade" sausage all with an extended shop-lifespan. By the time the sausage was sold or binned the original meat had been in the supermarket so long it probably had tenancy rights. This is the reason I never buy mince from a supermarket with a proper butcher's department. Or from a small butcher's for that matter unless I have reason to believe they're not up to tricks. But where was I? Ah yes, sausage making. With my old tiny manual meat grinder, bought from a second-hand shop for a pound, it’s a tad tricky making bangers as you need one hand to push the meat down the funnel, one hand to wind the handle and one hand to gently caress the sausages as they roll off the nozzle. As one does. Which leaves you decidedly short of hands, and unable to drink beer. So a year or so ago I invested in a Kenwood sausage making machine thingy but decided not to use it until the kitchen was finished, the plan being to produce lovely, home-made bangers as one of my first projects once the “playground” was completed. So I felt a bit of, no, a right royal twat when I unpacked it last month only to find it was but an attachment for a proper big mother-copulating food processor which would set me back £3-400 should I want one. Which I didn’t. So I bought a cheapo electric meat grinder instead.
Next up I needed sausage skins, which I’ve been successful in procuring from butcher’s in the past. As we’ve moved house since my last sausage adventure I paid our local purveyor of carcass a visit. “No probs” he said, “how much do you need?” I thought 5 to 10 meters would suffice to which he informed me it would cost about £2 a meter. Shocked I asked him if that included the stuff you put inside the sausages to which he replied something about them being expensive things requiring much work in preparing them etc, etc ie complete and utter bollocks, like he did all that himself. My guess is he didn’t want to sell them to me. The cock.
Acting on information given to me by my godfather Ray I then went shopping on the intaweb, www.sausagemaking.org to be precise. And brill fab, they not only had pigs intestines( sorry “casings”) but cows’ ones for salamis, sheep’s for chipolatas, collagen for veggies (they’d have to avoid the inside bit tho’) as well as curing powders and other “kit”. So I ordered a bundle and was as pleased as a nun in a cucumber patch up until I had to put in my address. Free postage & packaging in the UK, within the EU add £20! To make things even more confusing if I’d lived in what’s called The Rest Of The World it would have been free too. Now, I’d only ordered about 20 quids worth of stuff so I thought “logger that” and bugged off.
To the rescue came Mrs B who, through dubiousish means, has acquired an access card for the big cash & carry in the middle of Copenhagen. They don’t sell to private peoples y’know. Anyway, it’s like an Aladdin’s cave, especially in the meat and fish departments. I knew they had sausage skins but last time I looked you had to buy a few miles worth at a time but behold & lo if they didn’t have them in dainty little tubs of a mere 5 meters. And at pound a tub all I can say to my local butcher-cum-knobhead is “you can go and fork offal”.
So, armed to the teats with sausage making gadgetry and more intestines than you can stake a shit at, I set about fulfilling my sausage destiny. Or something like that. Here are the two best banger recipes I’ve come up with so far….
Classic Sage’n’Onion Pork Sausages
You really can’t beat the combination of pork, onion & sage when making bangers. I use very little bread & it can be totally omitted if y’like ya sausages really dense. It’s important to let the sausages rest for at least 12 hours before cooking to let the flavours party a bit. I actually think they benefit from being frozen for a while.
500 g minced pork (8-10% fat is a good amount)
2 biggish onions
2 cloves of garlic
2 slices of whitish bread blitzed into fine crumbs
A big handful of fresh sage leaves finely chopped (dried ain’t half as good)
A pinch or two of mace
A little olive oil or a modest knob of butter
Lots of crushed black pepper
Salt
About 2 meters of pig’s intestines or the equivalent collagen ones
Ok, if you’re using salted swine bowels they have to be soaked in fresh warm water for a while so start by doing that. The onions & garlic need to finely chopped then softened in the oil/butter. This is very important, raw onions will ruin yer bangers. Then simply mix everything together in a mixing bowl. Very well. To check the seasoning fry a small ball of your creation in the used frying pan (this is my first how-to-be-economical-with-the-washing-up tip). I like my sausages nice and peppery so I tend to bung in loads. Now to the kitchen erotica bit. Take the casings and thread them onto your sausage-making-funnel thingy. Then, leaving a couple of inches dangling, start feeding the meat mix into your machine. As it starts filling ease off the skin from the nozzle forming the sausage as you go. By pulling it off quickly you get a thinner sausage. Likewise, if you hold back your sausage will get fatter. I must have made a good fifty meters of sausages so far & I still can’t do this without giggling. Jesus, I'm smirking just writing it. When done the sausages are twisted into the required lengths.
When it comes to cooking your bangers remember they don’t need pricking. This will only succeed in letting the lovely pork juices run out. Because your nice, homemade beasts don’t contain excess water they won’t explode and any expanding they need doing takes place out the ends anyway. I usually brown them in a little oil then chuck them in the oven for half an hour at 200 degrees Celsius.
Thai Pork & Prawn Sausages
Where as the previous recipe was simple and classic this one is deffo more of a mad-experiment-that-went-right sort of thing. We’ve had these both fried/baked as well as steamed and I have to say the steamed ones won by a whisker. When you cut into them the prawns look like large lumps of fat which I find amusing. But then I’m easily amused.
500g minced pork
5-10 black tiger prawns shelled & chopped into smallish pieces
1 large onion chopped finely & softened
4 cloves of garlic chopped
1½ inch cube of ginger ditto ditto
2 stalks of lemon grass bashed & chopped
5 or so kaffir lime leaves de-stalked & chopped
A handful of dried Thai shrimps pounded in a mortar (with a pestle) and fried with the onions
½ teaspoon of fish paste (mixed with a bit of warm water to thin it down)
2-4 small chilies chopped finely
A big handful of chopped fresh coriander
½ teaspoon of ground dried coriander seeds
2 spring onions chopped
Fish sauce (instead of salt)
Ground white pepper
Ok, mix well together, test for seasoning (if it gets too fishy before it’s salty enough then use salt) and make as before. A teaspoon or two of red curry paste can be used too for a different effect. These are delicious with a sweet chili sauce. Happy Banging...
Next up I needed sausage skins, which I’ve been successful in procuring from butcher’s in the past. As we’ve moved house since my last sausage adventure I paid our local purveyor of carcass a visit. “No probs” he said, “how much do you need?” I thought 5 to 10 meters would suffice to which he informed me it would cost about £2 a meter. Shocked I asked him if that included the stuff you put inside the sausages to which he replied something about them being expensive things requiring much work in preparing them etc, etc ie complete and utter bollocks, like he did all that himself. My guess is he didn’t want to sell them to me. The cock.
Acting on information given to me by my godfather Ray I then went shopping on the intaweb, www.sausagemaking.org to be precise. And brill fab, they not only had pigs intestines( sorry “casings”) but cows’ ones for salamis, sheep’s for chipolatas, collagen for veggies (they’d have to avoid the inside bit tho’) as well as curing powders and other “kit”. So I ordered a bundle and was as pleased as a nun in a cucumber patch up until I had to put in my address. Free postage & packaging in the UK, within the EU add £20! To make things even more confusing if I’d lived in what’s called The Rest Of The World it would have been free too. Now, I’d only ordered about 20 quids worth of stuff so I thought “logger that” and bugged off.
To the rescue came Mrs B who, through dubiousish means, has acquired an access card for the big cash & carry in the middle of Copenhagen. They don’t sell to private peoples y’know. Anyway, it’s like an Aladdin’s cave, especially in the meat and fish departments. I knew they had sausage skins but last time I looked you had to buy a few miles worth at a time but behold & lo if they didn’t have them in dainty little tubs of a mere 5 meters. And at pound a tub all I can say to my local butcher-cum-knobhead is “you can go and fork offal”.
So, armed to the teats with sausage making gadgetry and more intestines than you can stake a shit at, I set about fulfilling my sausage destiny. Or something like that. Here are the two best banger recipes I’ve come up with so far….
Classic Sage’n’Onion Pork Sausages
You really can’t beat the combination of pork, onion & sage when making bangers. I use very little bread & it can be totally omitted if y’like ya sausages really dense. It’s important to let the sausages rest for at least 12 hours before cooking to let the flavours party a bit. I actually think they benefit from being frozen for a while.
500 g minced pork (8-10% fat is a good amount)
2 biggish onions
2 cloves of garlic
2 slices of whitish bread blitzed into fine crumbs
A big handful of fresh sage leaves finely chopped (dried ain’t half as good)
A pinch or two of mace
A little olive oil or a modest knob of butter
Lots of crushed black pepper
Salt
About 2 meters of pig’s intestines or the equivalent collagen ones
Ok, if you’re using salted swine bowels they have to be soaked in fresh warm water for a while so start by doing that. The onions & garlic need to finely chopped then softened in the oil/butter. This is very important, raw onions will ruin yer bangers. Then simply mix everything together in a mixing bowl. Very well. To check the seasoning fry a small ball of your creation in the used frying pan (this is my first how-to-be-economical-with-the-washing-up tip). I like my sausages nice and peppery so I tend to bung in loads. Now to the kitchen erotica bit. Take the casings and thread them onto your sausage-making-funnel thingy. Then, leaving a couple of inches dangling, start feeding the meat mix into your machine. As it starts filling ease off the skin from the nozzle forming the sausage as you go. By pulling it off quickly you get a thinner sausage. Likewise, if you hold back your sausage will get fatter. I must have made a good fifty meters of sausages so far & I still can’t do this without giggling. Jesus, I'm smirking just writing it. When done the sausages are twisted into the required lengths.
When it comes to cooking your bangers remember they don’t need pricking. This will only succeed in letting the lovely pork juices run out. Because your nice, homemade beasts don’t contain excess water they won’t explode and any expanding they need doing takes place out the ends anyway. I usually brown them in a little oil then chuck them in the oven for half an hour at 200 degrees Celsius.
Thai Pork & Prawn Sausages
Where as the previous recipe was simple and classic this one is deffo more of a mad-experiment-that-went-right sort of thing. We’ve had these both fried/baked as well as steamed and I have to say the steamed ones won by a whisker. When you cut into them the prawns look like large lumps of fat which I find amusing. But then I’m easily amused.
500g minced pork
5-10 black tiger prawns shelled & chopped into smallish pieces
1 large onion chopped finely & softened
4 cloves of garlic chopped
1½ inch cube of ginger ditto ditto
2 stalks of lemon grass bashed & chopped
5 or so kaffir lime leaves de-stalked & chopped
A handful of dried Thai shrimps pounded in a mortar (with a pestle) and fried with the onions
½ teaspoon of fish paste (mixed with a bit of warm water to thin it down)
2-4 small chilies chopped finely
A big handful of chopped fresh coriander
½ teaspoon of ground dried coriander seeds
2 spring onions chopped
Fish sauce (instead of salt)
Ground white pepper
Ok, mix well together, test for seasoning (if it gets too fishy before it’s salty enough then use salt) and make as before. A teaspoon or two of red curry paste can be used too for a different effect. These are delicious with a sweet chili sauce. Happy Banging...
Monday, 9 July 2007
Shrimp'n'save
Last year a fish van came round our neighbourhood and they had proper fresh raw prawns, caught off the western coast of Denmark. They were amazing & we bought a few kilos. Every time the fish van’s been back we’ve wanted to buy more but they haven’t had them. This is a cause of great grief to me. I wish I could buy raw, frozen North Sea or Greenland prawns in fishmongers or supermarkets. But I can’t. Boiled-&-frozen-at-sea shelled & unshelled prawns are all I can get. Up until the arrival of frozen, raw black tiger prawns from the Far East a simple dish of prawns in garlic butter meant using the pre-boiled things. Even in restaurants. Straight from the freezer they’d bung them in the pan. Yuk. You don’t buy pre-boiled eggs & then re-boil them, do you? I like my seafood pretty under cooked so, until they design a machine that can reverse the cooking process, I’m stuck with the pollution causing, anti-biotic riddled black tigers. We can get fresh raw fjord shrimps in season but, whilst totally delish, are so tiny they can’t be used for much else than nibbles. After reading about it somewhere I collected a few dozen wood lice today. After giving them a quick rinse I poured boiling salted water over them. The theory is that they taste like shrimps seeing as they are not unrelated to them. Yes, they did taste shrimpish. No, they did not taste very nice. And anyway, it took me half an hour to collect no more than could be fitted into a teabag so feeding the masses is deffo out of the question. The following recipes are Mrs B's & my favourite prawn dishes….
Prawns in Garlic ButterOil
People tend to overcook their prawns. So I concocted this dish which keeps them really moist & juicy whilst not compromising on the garlic flavour. It’s dead simple and can be prepped early which is dead handy if you’re doing it for a bash. By using a combination of olive oil & garlic you get a nicer sauce. If only butter is used it tends to get too rich.
Raw black tiger prawns (with or without their heads)
Butter
Garlic
Un-waxed lemons
Parsley
Olive oil
Chilli (optional)
Crushed black pepper
In a frying pan soften the sliced garlic slowly in olive oil over a low heat. Use plenty of oil and lots & lots of garlic. You’re looking to infuse the oil so, as it softens, mash it up a bit. Dump in the black pepper and, after a while, the parsley (and the chilli if wanted). Now, whilst this warms away place your thawed & patted dry prawns in an oven dish. I use something that’s a medium sized flowerpot in shape (minus the holes in the bottom, ha ha). Bung in your garlic goo and mix well together. You really want to coat every critter with the stuff. Then cover with thinnish slices of lemon. The lemon is your lid which keeps in the juices. Put a few handsome sized knobs of butter on top of the lemon slices and your ready to chuck it in the oven (or put it in the fridge where it will marinate nicely for a few hours). Bake it for anything between 20 to 45 minutes depending on the amount of prawns and size of pot, at 180 degrees celcius. I like to take them out after 10-15 mins, remove the lemon, stir around the prawns so the inner ones take a turn on the outside, back on with the lemon slices and into the oven again. They’re done when they’re pink. Serve with crusty bread. The juices are sublime, the prawns should be soft and succulent, more like lobster than frying-pan garlic prawns.
Sack O’ Porn Prawns
This is a dish Mrs B & I had at the wonderfully named Thai restaurant Porn Sak. I guess we’ve eaten there at least half a dozen times and each time the dish had developed into something more and more bland (to pamper to delicate local palates, so the waiter said) so this is a tribute to the original hardcore experience.
Black Tiger Prawns (headless)
Limes
Bird’s-eye chillies
Fish Sauce
Sugar
Squeeze a couple of limes. Mix the juice with half a teaspoon of sugar, a few gluggs of fish sauce and some chopped chillies. Let this infuse in the fridge for an hour or so. Then peel the prawns (saving the skins for the next recipe if you’re game) then slice in two lengthways. Remove the black intestine thread-like thing and lay the prawns stripy side up on a serving dish. Just before serving pour over the lime mix. You can garnish with small wedges of lime and some fresh coriander if you’re feeling artistic. The wonderful thing about this dish is how the texture of the prawns changes throughout the meal. At the start they’ll be predictably raw and sweet then later on they’ll “cook” in the acidic lime juice becoming firmer & whiter. It’s the sort of dish you have with other dishes. It also goes well with sushi.
Crispy Prawn Shells
I take great pleasure in using as much of a beast as poss so this is one of my babies. It relies on the prawn shells not being too thick, the steroid taking, fast grown black tiger shells are perfect. Lobster shells less so.
Prawn shells
Olive Oil
Sea Salt
The prawn shells are simply fried in olive oil until they are nice and golden. As the moisture in them is cooked off they’ll fry quieter. The secret is getting them crisp but not burnt. Drain on kitchen paper and sprinkle with sea salt. You can also add dried chilli and/or fried minced garlic. Perfect with beer, wine, g&t's, bloody mary's.....
Prawns in Garlic ButterOil
People tend to overcook their prawns. So I concocted this dish which keeps them really moist & juicy whilst not compromising on the garlic flavour. It’s dead simple and can be prepped early which is dead handy if you’re doing it for a bash. By using a combination of olive oil & garlic you get a nicer sauce. If only butter is used it tends to get too rich.
Raw black tiger prawns (with or without their heads)
Butter
Garlic
Un-waxed lemons
Parsley
Olive oil
Chilli (optional)
Crushed black pepper
In a frying pan soften the sliced garlic slowly in olive oil over a low heat. Use plenty of oil and lots & lots of garlic. You’re looking to infuse the oil so, as it softens, mash it up a bit. Dump in the black pepper and, after a while, the parsley (and the chilli if wanted). Now, whilst this warms away place your thawed & patted dry prawns in an oven dish. I use something that’s a medium sized flowerpot in shape (minus the holes in the bottom, ha ha). Bung in your garlic goo and mix well together. You really want to coat every critter with the stuff. Then cover with thinnish slices of lemon. The lemon is your lid which keeps in the juices. Put a few handsome sized knobs of butter on top of the lemon slices and your ready to chuck it in the oven (or put it in the fridge where it will marinate nicely for a few hours). Bake it for anything between 20 to 45 minutes depending on the amount of prawns and size of pot, at 180 degrees celcius. I like to take them out after 10-15 mins, remove the lemon, stir around the prawns so the inner ones take a turn on the outside, back on with the lemon slices and into the oven again. They’re done when they’re pink. Serve with crusty bread. The juices are sublime, the prawns should be soft and succulent, more like lobster than frying-pan garlic prawns.
Sack O’ Porn Prawns
This is a dish Mrs B & I had at the wonderfully named Thai restaurant Porn Sak. I guess we’ve eaten there at least half a dozen times and each time the dish had developed into something more and more bland (to pamper to delicate local palates, so the waiter said) so this is a tribute to the original hardcore experience.
Black Tiger Prawns (headless)
Limes
Bird’s-eye chillies
Fish Sauce
Sugar
Squeeze a couple of limes. Mix the juice with half a teaspoon of sugar, a few gluggs of fish sauce and some chopped chillies. Let this infuse in the fridge for an hour or so. Then peel the prawns (saving the skins for the next recipe if you’re game) then slice in two lengthways. Remove the black intestine thread-like thing and lay the prawns stripy side up on a serving dish. Just before serving pour over the lime mix. You can garnish with small wedges of lime and some fresh coriander if you’re feeling artistic. The wonderful thing about this dish is how the texture of the prawns changes throughout the meal. At the start they’ll be predictably raw and sweet then later on they’ll “cook” in the acidic lime juice becoming firmer & whiter. It’s the sort of dish you have with other dishes. It also goes well with sushi.
Crispy Prawn Shells
I take great pleasure in using as much of a beast as poss so this is one of my babies. It relies on the prawn shells not being too thick, the steroid taking, fast grown black tiger shells are perfect. Lobster shells less so.
Prawn shells
Olive Oil
Sea Salt
The prawn shells are simply fried in olive oil until they are nice and golden. As the moisture in them is cooked off they’ll fry quieter. The secret is getting them crisp but not burnt. Drain on kitchen paper and sprinkle with sea salt. You can also add dried chilli and/or fried minced garlic. Perfect with beer, wine, g&t's, bloody mary's.....
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