The Art of Chowder

 

 

I've just come in from a dripping and sodden garden. A necessary job which involved tipping a split bag of farmyard manure all over the newly created border. Not especially pleasant. We've got a new unwelcome visitor: a largish town fox seems to have latched onto us at night. It's already been inside the house; but was scared off by our brave, feisty little Burmese, Oskie, at about three o' clock in the morning. You should have heard the noise. Cat shrieks and Fox barks. Like Banshees. Terrifying. And I have to tell you, this critter is the size of an Alsatian. Last night, it ripped open several bags of manure in the garden- I woke up to a a scene of carnage. Hence the urgency. And it's cold. And wet. And extremely gloomy. One way of coping with the sudden autumn chill is with my sudden obsession with chowder. Hot creamy, chunky, savoury, buttery chowder.

What exactly is chowder?  You'll know that it's an American soup (or possible stew) popular on the Eastern Seaboard. Personally, I think it should be creamy. And thick. Possibly milky. It might well have some form of pork or salty bacon. It's probably got diced carrots; it may well have diced potatoes. It often includes smoked fish. I usually think of chowders as being creamy white in colour, and this is often the case. But then there's also the Manhattan Clam Chowder which uses tomatoes instead of milk or cream, and is red.

I had a sweetcorn chowder at Brunswick House Café the other day- and I'm now interested in the idea of using puréed sweetcorn as a thickening agent. I think this would work well. The Brunswick House chowder was also laced with Lea & Perrins- far too much of the stuff in my opinion. It was almost insane. Several large tablespoons, I reckon. Luckily, I love L & P, and so cope, up to a point- but I suspect others would have had a nasty surprise. It was all slighty strange.

 

Brunswick House Café, Vauxhall

This is how I would make a chowder. I think with this particular dish, there's going to be room for experimentation and ideas. The first step would be to chop up some smoked bacon or pork and fry in butter. Next, I'd add some chopped onions and chopped celery and fry in the buttery bacon fat until soft. Then I'd pour in some fish stock and drop in a bayleaf.

You could experiment using various ingredients as a thickening agent. Crushed saltine crackers would be authentic. Creamed sweetcorn might be another idea. Or grated potato perhaps? You would stir the thickening agent (whatever it is) into the stock. (An alternative method would be to cook the thickening agent in the butter before adding the stock). I'd include some diced potato and diced carrots, and a good dollop of single cream and/or milk.

The chowder would be simmered gently until you ended up with a nice whitish, creamy chowder of thick consistancy. Poached smoked haddock (broken up into largish flakes) might be added, or another type of fish which you happen to like. Smoked Oysters could be just the ticket. I like the combination of smoked fish with salty bacon, savoury onions, celery and bayleaf. It's a classic amalgamation of flavours.

Finally, the chowder would be finished off with finely chopped flat leaf parsley or chervil, (which with its subtle tarragon flavour might work even better); seasoned with white pepper and a knob of butter whisked in at the final moment. What do you think?