Friday 22 October 2010

Root Veg Rosti with a Friend Duck Egg (a supper club experiment)






















My friend Lucy and I run a supper club, or rather we have had one supper club and we are going to have another in December. We really are new to the supper club game, very new. We tell ourselves that our naivety is part of our charm, but we didn't feel particularly charming when 3 of our guests failed to turn up after we (naively) failed to take pre-payments. Looking back I'm glad that was the only disaster, no food was burnt, the guests that did come enjoyed themselves and we made a new friend.

The experience was wonderful, we loved thinking up new ideas for our guests and although we had less diners than expected, it was great to share food with other people.

(Here is a little rant, brace yourself). I don't think Supper Clubs are just a reaction to the financial situation, they are a much-needed step away from the main stream. Local high streets, particularly in London, don't have independent restaurants, instead they have restaurants with no soul, menus that feel like adverts and uncomfortable seats. Chain restaurants on the whole don't foster memorable evenings and that is where Supper Clubs are stepping in and filling a void. (Sorry about that rant).




















Anyway. We're getting excited about our next supper club (11th of December), it will have a very different feel and menu from our June Alfresco Supper Club. That's the fun of the supper club, thinking up new ideas and practicing recipes on trusted friends before the big night. It's just a hobby really, we don't make any money and we don't have plans to open a restaurant, but it keeps us out of trouble.




















This recipe began life as one idea for a starter at December's 'Winter Warmer' Supper Club. It's quite simple because that's the sort of food Lucy and I love. We're not going to serve it at the Winter Warmer after all (it is probably a bit heavy to be part of such a big meal), but if I were going to serve it to guests I would probably tart it up a bit. Mr.F and I enjoyed it in it's simplest form with some garlicky spinach on the side. But if you do want to make it a bit fancier then may I suggest adding something from the following list; a few fried chanterelles, some toasted pine nuts, a shower of hard goats/sheeps cheese, a smear of tapenade under the egg or crispy shallots. Oh and a glass of prosecco, that always helps to make things fancier.

What is great about eggs is that they are self-saucing and it's hard to think of a tastier sauce than egg yolk. Mr. F has dreams of bottling the stuff, more on that another time. What is REALLY great about duck eggs is that they come with a bigger egg and therefore more sauce. Yum.

If you are interested in coming to our supper club then follow this link.
















Recipe

Serves 4 as a starter or 2 as a main

1 small parsnip, coarsely grated
1 medium turnip, coarsely grated
1 small swede, coarsely grated
1 large starchy potato, coarsely grated
1 sprig of thyme
4 duck eggs
Oil for frying

  • Put the grated roots in a colander and sprinkle them with a teaspoon of salt, place it to one side and make a phone call/pluck your eyebrows/ have a small glass of wine - about 20 mins. After 20 mins squeeze out as much liquid as you can.
  • Put you oven on it's lowest setting a put a plate in there to warm up.
  • Heat 2 tbsp of oil in a large frying pan over a medium heat. Divide the vegetable mix into 4 portions and fry, flattening them with the back of a spatular. They will take about 5 minutes on each side.
  • Once they are golden and crispy transfer to the oven to keep warm.
  • Wipe your frying pan and clean and fry the eggs however you like them, I know how personal this is and feel free to poach your eggs if you're that way inclined.
  • Place one egg on each rosti and enjoy.

Autumnal Generosity Cakes (or Spiced Quince Cakes)























I am lucky to have a very generous friend and colleague called Hannah, she is the sort of friend who will make you a cushion from your favourite fabric or buy you a g&t when you've spent all your money on a silly hat. Hannah never wants anything back, she is generosity epitomised. Last week Hannah gave me a bag of gold, well gold fruit anyway, 5 large quinces.










Here are 5 reason to love quince:
  • Quinces are beautiful and ugly at the same time, like a handsome man with a sexy scar.
  • Quinces smell like nothing you've ever smelt before, a cross between pear and bubblegum with a hint of mango.
  • Quinces are a magic fruit that turns from golden to deep pink by the magic of cooking.
  • Quinces are old fashioned and majestic, they make me want to paint Dutch-style still lives.
  • Quinces are in season and will be until December.
If I were a fruit I think I would aspire to be a quince, they are pretty special with a rich British history, hard to get hold of but worth it. They some how manage to seem terribly exotic, but are as British as strawberries and cream. Having said that I'd quite like to be a pink gooseberry too. What fruit would you be?























I had never cooked quince before and had only eaten it in it's jelly form which I love with cheese. But I'm a bit sick of preserving at the moment, I really don't need anymore jars of things cluttering up my tiny kitchen. So I decided to make cakes.

The recipe below is a combination of several other recipes and keeps amazingly well, I made them on Sunday and had the last one on Thursday, it was still moist and soft, that's the magic of baking with fruit. This recipe provides you with 2 days worth of pudding, a poached quince to serve with cream on Friday night and an rich cake to have with a cup of tea on Saturday. You will probably end up with about 1kg of poached quince which will keep well in it's poached liquor for 2 weeks.

Quince has a pear-like texture which Mr. F hates, I think he must be mad. But since these cakes were born out of generosity I made him an apple version. If you aren't keen on quince, or you don't have a generous friend who gives you quinces, use a sweet apple. You won't need to pre-poach the apples, they will soften up in the oven.



















Recipe

Makes 12 cakes.

FOR THE POACHED QUINCE
600g caster sugar
1 cinnamon stick
1 lemon, sliced
4 cloves
1 bay leaf

FOR THE CAKE
200g of unsalted butter at room temperature
4 medium free range eggs
200g dark brown sugar sugar
100g ground almonds
200g self-raising flour
2 tsp baking powder
300g of poached quince
  • Put the cinnamon, lemon, bay, poaching sugar, cloves and 1litre of water into a large saucepan.
  • Peel, quarter and core your quince. Do this as quickly as possible to prevent browning and drop them into the saucepan as soon as they are peeled. Now bring the pan to a simmer for 2 hours. The fruit will try to bob out of it's poaching liquor so put a plate on top of them to keep them down.
  • After 2 hours check that they are tender, if not give them another 30 minutes of simmering.
  • Once the quince in completely cold weigh 300g (cover the rest and keep in the fridge for up to 2 weeks) and cut a few slices from the prettiest pieces, place them in the bottom of 12 well-greased cake tins.
  • Pre-heat your oven to gas 3.
  • To make your cake batter, cream the sugar and butter with a wooden spoon until it is really light then add the eggs one at a time.
  • Sift in the flour and baking powder, then fold in the ground almonds.
  • Roughly chop the remaining quince and fold it into the batter. Fill the cake tins 3 quarters of the way up and bake for 20mins, or until a knife inserted in the centre of the cake comes our clean.
  • Remove the cakes form the oven and allow to cool for 10mins before turning out onto a wire rack.

Friday 15 October 2010

Leek Tarte Tatin


























This Summer I did a bit of guerrilla gardening, I invaded a small patch of un-loved land and grew some leeks, sunflowers and chillies. I named this patch 'The Farm', which was a huge exaggeration of it's size, but from The Farm I was able grow produce far fresher than anything I could buy in a supermarket and I didn't have to wait in a que to pay for it.

This morning the only crop that remained were the leeks (and a lot of unwelcome weeds), they looked lonely and like me seemed to be wondering how summer had been and gone so quickly. As they are the last of this year's harvest I wanted to make something with my precious leeks that celebrated them in all their glory. After all, I'll have to wait until March, or maybe even April before my garden starts producing edible treats again, hopefully in the form on rhubarb.

So I devised this leek tarte tatin. There are a lot of things to like about this recipe: It's quick, it's sweet from the caramelised leeks, it's tangy from the wensleydale cheese and it's pretty because of the tight little circles of golden leek.



I would love to tell you that my leeks are gigantic specimens, but they're not, frankly they're a bit pathetic, so adjust the quantity of leeks according to the patheticness of your leeks.























Recipe

This makes one tart, large enough for 2 people to share as a main, but you could make individual tarts or double the recipe and make a family sized tart.

3 small leeks, washed and cut into half inch chunks
1 fat clove of garlic chopped
2 sprigs of thyme, leaves removed and chopped
2 table spoons of dry white wine
100g wensleydale cheese (or any crumbly cheese you love)
half a pack of ready rolled puff pastry
a small knob of butter
olive oil
  • Pre-heat the oven to gas mark 6.
  • In a small medium sized oven-proof frying pan heat your oil over a moderate heat then add the butter and melt. Fry the garlic and thyme for 1 minute, until they start to colour slightly, now tip them out onto a plate and set aside.
  • Squeeze all your leek chunks into the pan, facing the sky all huddled up together. Let them cook for a couple of minutes then add the white wine and let it bubble away for a few minutes (drink a glass of wine whilst it does this).
  • When the pan starts to look dry again sprinkle your garlic, thyme and some seasoning over the top, then place the pastry over the whole pan and trim the edges with a knife. Tuck the pastry in to the pan so that the leeks are nice and snug. Prick with a fork and bake for 20 minutes, or until the pastry in golden.
  • Take a deep breath, steady yourself and hold a plate over the pastry and in one smooth confident movement (you can do it), flip it over. Ta Da, leek tarte tatin. Sprinkle it with the wensleydale and serve immediately with some watercress and some potatoes if your are hungry.