The Greasy Spoon

Wassail

I've noticed that quite a few readers of The Greasy Spoon have been searching for wassail on the internet. As I'm feeling in a helpful mood, I'm revisiting a post that I wrote last year on the subject. I've also added a nice interactive link to a quirky short film I've found, explaining the wassail tradition in Herefordshire, England. Please take note of my own recipe for Mulled Cider. It's so utterly preferable to the ubiquitous Mulled Wine. I can't stress that enough. Here's the article:

Wassail is a traditional mulled punch, drunk at Christmas-time in the Northern and Germanic countries. Very Nordic. Wassailing can either mean the singing of carols (at Christmas, the serfs would wassail the Lord and Lady of the Manor), or, as in Gloucestershire, and other western counties, the wassailing of an apple tree- to ensure a good harvest, and drive away the evil spirits. This is done on Twelfth Night. I reckon that The Wicker Man was closer to the bone than many people realise. 

Anyway, although I realise that the chances of wassailing an apple tree in down town Vancouver are practically zero, I'm going to give you my recipe for my very own wassail, otherwise known as Mulled Cider. I prefer it to Mulled Wine, I really do. The problem with the wine version, is that many people get it wrong. Very wrong. They chuck in a bottle of plonk, boil it up, and then add all sorts of other dodgy ingredients, including vodka; and the result is an over-acidic, pungent brew which can leave you with a god-awful hangover. 

Mulled Cider is "different", smoother- and in my opinion delicious. There are no rules; but to get the best results, I suggest that you keep it simple. In a large pan, I pour in a decent dryish West Country or Norman organic cider. Try and avoid the cheaper, sweeter, fizzy stuff. Next, I cut an orange in half, and add that. Do the same with a lemon. Now it's time for the spices. A cinnamon stick, a few cloves, nutmeg, and a kernel of ginger would work well. Taste it! If it's too dry, add a bit of brown sugar.

Start warming it up. You do not want to boil it. Keep it simmering at just below boiling point. If you boil it, all the alcohol will vapourise away- and you want your party to go with a swing, don't you? If you're going to serve it in glass mugs, make sure that you put a silver spoon in the mug first. This will prevent the glass from shattering. 

If you've got time, decorate the wassail with "Lamb's Wool". This is just peeled apple simmered in cider until it goes woolly, and "explodes"; once that's done, you can float the pulp on top of the mulled cider.

Mince Pies

Looking back at my posts past, I'm amazed that I've never covered these before. Of course, "mince" pies have got nothing to do with meat or even minced meat; the reason why they're called this goes back to the days of Merry Olde England, when mince pies did indeed include meat, or at least, a "mincemeat" consisting of chopped meat, candied fruit, suet, and sugar, all soaked in brandy. These days, we leave the meat out.

Here's our family recipe for mince pies.  Ideally, you leave the mincemeat to mature for god knows how long, but as time is short, I'm sure that it won't be the end of the world if you don't.

First, you need to make the "mincemeat".  Peel, core and chop 450g apples and mix them up with 335g raisins, 225g sultanas, 175g shredded suet, 335g soft dark brown sugar, 225g  chopped mixed peel (that's candied fruit), 110g chopped almonds, and a teaspoon of mixed spice.

Grate the rind off a lemon and squeeze out the juice. Pour this into the mixture, and add 110ml of brandy or rum.  Ideally, you would leave the mincemeat to mature for up to three months, but as time is short, leave it to mature overnight.

To make the pastry: mix up 335g plain flour, 75g ground almonds, and 75g caster sugar. Stir in two egg yolks and 225g unsalted butter, so that the mixture takes on a breadcrumb type texture.  Finally, mix in two tablespoons of cold water. Leave the mixture in the 'fridge for 45 minutes.

Roll the pastry flat, and use it to line small jam jar tart tins. Fill each space with heaped teaspoonfuls of mincemeat, and then top with a smaller circle of pastry. Wet the edges of the pastry and press down well at the sides. Cut a slit or a cross on the top of each pie, and brush with milk or egg white, and dust with caster sugar.

Bake in a moderate oven until the pies start to turn brown.  Serve hot- or cold- with brandy butter. Traditionally, the first mince pie of the season grants you a wish, but only on the condition that you don't talk while you're eating.

Smoked Eel with Creamed Horseradish Sauce

 

Racking my brains for an appropriate Christmas Lunch or Boxing Day first course, I've come up with the idea of giving 'em Smoked Eel, served with a Creamed Horseradish Sauce. For some reason, this seems to me to be a suitable choice, and I think the subtle smokiness of the eel will balance all the richness and over-stuffing to follow.

If you've never had smoked eel, forget all the "cor blimey, Guv, jellied eel" nonsense. Smoked eel tastes entirely different, and with a properly made horseradish sauce, might even prove to be a sophisticated option.

It's not especially cheap, I have to admit. We've just ordered our smoked eel from the excellent Brown and Forrest, and an 8oz pack of smoked eel fillets (hot smoked over beech and apple) costs £14.00. You will need about 2oz per person.

We're going to serve it with slices of lemon and creamed horseradish sauce. I'm basing this on Simon Hopkinson's version:

First you need to make a horseradish concentrate. Peel a horseradish root and grate it finely across the base of the root. You will need 200g of the stuff.

Next, put the grated horseradish into a food processor. Add five tablespoons of water, two teaspoons of Maldon Salt, one and a half tablespoons of caster sugar, two and a half tablespoons of lemon juice, and two and a half tablespoons of white wine vinegar. Purée the ingredients until smooth. You will be able to keep the horseradish concentrate in a Kilner jar for up to two weeks.

When you want to make the creamed horseradish sauce, it's simplicity itself. Take four tablespoons of the horseradish concentrate you've made earlier, and whisk it into 200ml of double cream, adding a little bit more sugar and salt, to taste.

Cumberland Sauce

 

I had a minor tiff with Mrs Aitch the other day. As we were watching "Delia's Christmas" on television (there's been a fresh outbreak), I suggested, in my superior way, that Delia's version of Cumberland Sauce was too thin. Mrs Aitch pointed out that Cumberland Sauce should never be too thick, and should always be served cold. Well, of course, after a bit of research, I discovered that Mrs Aitch and Saint Delia were right, and The Greasy Spoon was wrong.

I love Cumberland Sauce, and think it's utterly, completely delcious. In my opinion, it's infinitely a cut above the ubiquitous Cranberry Sauce, though I think, from memory, that we're planning to offer both on Christmas Day. Cumberland Sauce works brilliantly with ham, bacon and turkey.

There's quite a bit of useful historical info in Elizabeth David's superb little book, Elizabeth David's Christmas, edited by Jill Norman. I've recommended this one before, and I'm very happy to recommend it again.

According to Mrs David, the first mention of Cumberland Sauce in any published cookery book, comes as late as 1904, in Alfred Suzanne's "La Cuisine Anglaise". The great Alexis Soyer, however, published a similar German recipe for "a sauce to go with Boar's Head" as early as 1853.

Elizabeth David reckoned it to be the best Cumberland Sauce recipe, and it's almost identical to the family recipe I'm about to give you. The only substantial difference is that Soyer added a heaped teaspoon of English Mustard (Elizabeth David uses Dijon) to the redcurrant jelly, and Mrs David specifies Medium Tawny Port.

Peel of the skin of an orange, and then cut the skin into "julienne" (very thin strips). Put the orange strips into a pan with some water and bring to the boil. This will remove any bitterness from the orange peel.

In another small pan, melt four heaped tablespoons of redcurrant jelly, with a teaspoon of ground ginger. Stir well, until the redcurrant jelly and the ginger have combined. (If you're going to add mustard, add it now).

Redcurrant jelly is best described as a smooth English sweet, fruity jam (or jelly to my American readers) which we normally eat with lamb. It's available in ready-made in jars- though I have to admit, I have no idea if it's easily obtainable in America or not; so, if you live on that side of the pond, you may well have to track the stuff down on the internet, or see if you local deli stocks it. Redcurrant jelly will act as a thickening agent, but true Cumberland sauce should really have a thinnish consistency, so try to keep it reasonably runny- if it coats the back of a spoon, you know it's about right.

Now's the time to pour in a decent slug of port, the juice of one orange, and the juice of half a lemon. Stir well, then add the blanched orange strips (which you've previously taken out of the hot water, and drained).

You will be left with a tangy, fruity, gingery, port-infused dark red sauce- which will act as a balance to the salt in the ham. I can best describe it as the taste of Christmas. Nostalgic. Oh- and one last word of advice from Mrs Aitch: Cumberland Sauce should always be served cold, so don't try and warm it up; otherwise you're going to find yourself in trouble...

Coca-Cola Ham

Last Christmas or so, I wrote a post about a slightly weird recipe: "Ham Glazed in Coca-Cola". It's still one of my most popular posts, and as I'm currently getting increased hits (no doubt because of Thanksgiving) I'm going to give you the recipe again.

It doesn't sound that great, does it? However, as Coke is really just a very sugary, brown and fizzy syrup, there's no reason why it shouldn't work nicely with a lovely, juicy ham. And the recipe's an old favourite from the American Deep South, too. So, here's how you make it:

Put in a medium sized gammon into a large pan. Add a peeled onion (for flavour), and then pour in a litre of coca-cola. Bring to the boil, put the lid back on, and turn down the heat. Let the ham braise in the liquid for  2 ½ hours.

Take the gammon out of the pan, and let it rest. Remove the skin and preheat your oven to 210˚C. In the meantime, mix up a glaze from 100g breadcrumbs, 100g brown muscovado sugar, two tablespoons of French Dijon Mustard, and a tablespoon of Colman's Mustard Powder. Stir in a spoonful or so of coca-cola to the mixture, and then slap it onto the gammon. 

Roast the gammon in the hot oven for about ten minutes, or until the glaze has cooked.

The Official Greasy Spoon Christmas Pudding

 

Each year, Christmas seems to start earlier and earlier. The lights have gone up in Oxford Street (do you remember that dreadful "Birds Eye" affair?), and our television set has suddenly erupted into full Christmas mode. Teflon snowflakes are having a field day. I suspect sales of Charles Dickens are on the increase.  And yet, autumn leaves remain: it's still November. The world's gone barmy.

Having said that, right now is the time to start making your Christmas Pudding; and if anything it may even be a bit on the late side. Traditionally, the Christmas Pudding was made on "Stir-Up Sunday", which was the last Sunday before Advent, (about four to five weeks before Christmas Day), but in our family we used to make it as early as late October.

I love Christmas Pudding. The way your spoon plunges into the moist (you hope!), rich, fruity mass; and the contrast with the smooth, rich, alchohol infused brandy butter.

This is the way I make The Official Greasy Spoon Christmas Pudding:

First, you need to stir up all the following ingredients in a pudding basin: 350g mixed fruit and peel (this means crystallised peel, dried apricots, currants, saltanas, raisins, grated lemon rind, and grated orange rind); 50g chopped glace cherries, 25g flaked almonds, 50g dried suet (you can't get the proper stuff anymore- the EU has made it illegal), 35g white breadcrumbs, 35g plain flour, 70g moist dark brown sugar, 50g grated apple, and a dash of mixed spice and grated nutmeg. Some weirdos add carrot- but very sensibly, I leave this one out.

Once you've stirred all the ingredients together well, mix in two beaten eggs, the juice of half a lemon, and half an orange, pour in two tablespoons of a dark stout (ie Guinness), a tablespoon of black treacle, and a dash of decent Scotch Whisky. Most recipes will tell you to add brandy, but being a contrarian, I've decided that Scotch works better. Stir it like mad.

Now's the time to add the mixture to a basin. Recently, I've had this thing about those old-fashioned ball-shaped puddings- the ones you see in the illustrations of "Phiz" and in Walt Disney. A few years ago, I managed to track down a ball-shaped pudding mould from Divertimenti in the Fulham Road, and used that- but a traditional ceramic pudding basin will be just dandy. Smear the inside of the basin with butter. This will stop the pudding sticking to the side. Pour in the mixture. Top off with a piece of buttered greaseproof paper, ideally cut down to fit. Finally, place a cloth over the basin, and tie it off at the top with a bit of string.

Steam it for five to six hours. This means getting hold of a large pan, filling it about a quarter full with water and bringing it to the boil. Place the pudding in the middle of the pan, and put the lid on. The steam will rise up within the pan, and cook the pudding. Once it's cooked, leave it in a cool place with a piece of tin foil on top. It will mature in the run-up to Christmas. On the great day itself, you will need to steam it for a further three hours.

Stone's Chop House Pancakes

With Shrove Tuesday looming (it's on the 24th February), here's a genuine pancake recipe from Stone's Chop House. Stone's was a famous old restaurant in Panton Street, near Piccadilly Circus, London. I fear it went out of business many moons ago. Here's the recipe (taken word-for-illiterate-word) from "The Best of British Cooking" published as a "book cassette" in the very early 1970's:

For 4

6 eggs

6oz caster sugar

2 tbsp double cream

2 sliced cooking apples

2 oz raisins

2oz butter

1/2 tsp cinnamon

2 tsp rum

Separate eggs and mix yolks with cream. Whip whites with sugar then fold into mixture. Pour into small frying pan (4 in for 1 pancake) heated and buttered. Place in oven for about 5 minutes at 400F (Mark 6). Remove and tip out pancake and fill with filling made by putting apple, raisins, butter and cinnamon in a pan and heating and adding rum at the end. Fold and serve, sprinkling with icing sugar.

New Year's Eve Canapés

Peppadew's are currently very much in vogue. They're a brand of miniature piquanté peppers from South Africa. They're sweet and slightly spicy, and perfect for making quick canapés if you've got friends coming round tonight for the New Year's Eve celebrations tonight (I'm writing this at lunchtime, so you've just got enough time to dash round to the shops and track down a jar).

You will find that you can stuff them very easily. How about a mixture of some type of salty blue, or otherwise soft, cheese, some chopped pine nuts, some chopped capers, and some finely chopped parsley, chives or coriander?

A big thank you to all the readers of The Greasy Spoon. My readership is up- long may that trend continue! I look forward to new food discoveries in 2009: so please keep those comments and emails coming in.

Happy New Year!

Champagne Cocktail

Here's a great idea for the Hogmany revels tomorrow: it's a Champagne cocktail with Sloe Gin. Like many of the best ideas, it's utterly simple.  Just add a dash of Sloe Gin to a decent Champagne, which, naturellement, you've previously chilled 'on ice'. A perfect winter cocktail, and British in spirit, too; which is no bad thing. For my other Champagne Cocktail recipe, have a look at my post from last year.

I've still got some of the Sloe Gin left from '07. If you remember, I added a bit of almond essence, and having tasted the stuff, I've now decided this is the way forward. The gin's turned a nice, brownish colour too. Sloe Gin improves with age. Definitely.

Happy Christmas

 

It's Christmas Eve, and I'm retreating to the country for a few days.  Today's post is less about food- and more about people who don't have much of it.  

Crisis at Christmas is a superb British charity that helps homeless people- who may be on the streets for a variety of reasons beyond their control. With its emphasis on the family, Christmas for some people can be a time of immense loneliness: I can't think of anything sadder than the single Christmas Puddings you can buy in the supermarkets. Please click on the link, and go to the Crisis at Christmas website.  It will tell you far more than I can. A small donation will help to improve someone's Christmas next year.

I wish you all a very Happy Christmas, and I'll catch up with you when I get back from the revels.

Joy to the World!