The Greasy Spoon | Food & Culture

English Asparagus

 

 

In England, asparagus is in season at this time of year. I'm a firm believer in eating fruit and vegetables in season. Okay, I know that asparagus is shipped in from Spain all the year round; but who wants to eat asparagus in November, or for that matter, strawberries at Christmas?

I used to pick asparagus in a pick-your-own operation in Oxfordshire. It's a strange looking plant, but picking is easy; you just snap the stalk off at the base.

Cooking them is simplicity itself, I think the best way is to steam them until tender- there is no need to boil them; as you run the risk of the asparagus going mushy. Serve them with melted butter, sea salt and a squeeze of lemon juice. Hollandaise Sauce works well, too.

And forget knives and forks; asparagus should be eaten with your fingers. Pick up the stalks, dip them in the butter, or the sauce, and eat them. The woody base can be discarded on a side plate. It's perfect food for an early English summer.

Potted Shrimps

 

 

Hand held up high, I think that potted shrimps are, perhaps, one of the best traditonal British dishes of all time. Recently, I ordered some at the downstairs bar below Bibendum in the Fulham Road. They were completely delicious, buttery, flavoured with nutmeg and served with simple brown bread. By shrimps, I mean those small brownish Morecambe Bay shrimps, rather than the large Oriental variety.

Melt some unsalted butter with mace, cayenne pepper, paprika and some grated nutmeg in a small pan. Add the peeled brown shrimps and cook them very briefly in the butter at a low heat, ideally adding any juices left over from the shrimps. Squeeze in a generous amount of lemon juice.

Season with salt and pepper and divide the mixture into ramekin dishes. Let them set in the fridge and then top them off with some unclarified butter. The butter will act as a seal. When they're ready to serve, spoon out the potted shrimps and spread them on slices of brown bread.

It's best if they're served at room temperature, so that the slightly spicy butter goes soft. Perfect for this time of year or for picnics.

Watercress and Roasted Shallot Purée

 

 

In the same way that I like to experiment with different flavour combinations when I'm making sorbets, vegetable purées offer the perfect opportunity to try out new ideas. Purées are dead easy to make, and, in my opinion, are a sophisticated alternative to ubiquitous vegetable side dishes.

Here's a good 'un: it's my recipe for watercress and roasted shallot purée. I generally prefer shallots to onions, as they have a sweeter and more subtle taste. Take a handful of shallots, remove the skins, and roast them in a hot oven for about an hour. Chuck them into your Magimix and puree them with unsalted butter, salt and pepper, and a teaspoon of sherry vinegar, or lemon juice.

In a steamer, cook a large handful of watercress for a few minutes, until they are slightly wilted, and a deep green colour. Add them to the mixer, and puree until smooth.

Another puree I've come up with is made from an interesting artichoke and leek combination. It's a similar process. I steam chopped leeks until soft, and then purée them with artichoke hearts, lemon juice, and salt and pepper.

I finish off the purée of by cooking it gently in a small pan, and then mixing in a dollop of creme fraiche. Remember, it's a good idea to keep the leeks as green as possible. If you overcook them, they turn yellow, and you loose the crunchy, fresh flavours- so watch them like a hawk when you steam them. It might be a good plan to plunge them under ice-cold water once they've cooked. This will set the colour.

Jugged Peas

 

 

I've just crawled in from another long day at work, and racked my befuddled brain for something stimulating to write about. How about jugged peas?

Jugging is an old English cooking technique. You put whatever you've got into a jug or jar, and then place this into a pan of boiling water. It's a bit like a bain-marie. Put some fresh peas into an oven proof screw-top jar, with some stock, some fresh mint, salt, pepper and sugar. Simmer the jar in a pan of near boiling water for about 30 minutes. You won't be disappointed...

Neck of Lamb Sauté

After all that excitement in Austria, it was a bit of a drag to have to return to The Big Smoke. The weathers currently abysmal, and for months, it's been nothing but grey, grey skies, and endless freezing rain.

April should be about Spring, and despite the weather, it's probably about time to start having a look at Spring food, and even recipes suitable for Early Summer. Neck of Lamb Sauté is one such dish; it would be perfect for a Spring or Summer lunch party. Héere's my take on it:

Buy some meaty neck of lamb cutlets. (By the way, it's a great cut, that; and rather economical, too). Saute the lamb gently in unsalted butter, and then put to one side. In the same butter, fry some peeled baby onions, and some baby carrots, until they are slightly cooked.

Get hold of a large pan, and put in the vegetables. Add some smallish new potatoes. Pour in some milk, so that the vegetables and potatoes are covered. Season generously with sea salt, and lots of chunky black pepper.

Let the pot simmer away extremely slowly, and at a lowish heat, for about half an hour. When the time's up, add some peeled broad beans (I hate to say this, but frozen broad beans are surprising good, as long as you peel them), artichoke hearts, petis pois, one or two tomatoes cut in half, and a sprig of fresh mint.

Cook until tender. You will find that the milky sauce will probably curdle a bit, so to tidy things up it would probably be a good idea to strain off the sauce (using a fine sieve), and then reduce it in a small pan with a knob of butter. It might also be a good idea to use semi-skimmed milk, as this will reduce the curdling effect. Whisk it like crazy, and make sure that it doesn't boil over.

If you're keen on a clean looking presentation, rinse the vegetables with boiling water. This will remove the curdled bits from the milk. Pour the sauce back over the lamb and vegetables, and serve.

Simple Green Salad

 

 

Often, simplicity is the key to the best things in life. This afternoon, I would like to argue the cause for the Green Salad. When was the last time you had one? There's been a recent tendency for salads to be dressed up with quartered tomatoes, raw red peppers, sweetcorn, mushrooms; and other similar ingredients. And there's also the nasty habit of a salad being served as a first course. A complete "no-no" by my book.

So here's how I make The Greasy Spoon's Green Salad, which I serve alongside a main course. I avoid those pre-package salads you can buy in the supermarket. They're always bitter, bland, and of course, fiendishly expensive.

Instead, I'll buy a lovely loose lettuce, and wash it myself. I bought an interesting variety the other day (the name of which typically, I've forgotten), which had a delicious peppery taste. Next, I add fresh watercress (again, for the peppery taste), some chopped spring onions, and some fresh lemon thyme. That's it. Nothing more, nothing less.

To make a simple vinaigrette, I just mix a tiny bit of a smooth French mustard with some lemon juice, and a bit of salt, and then add a dash of olive oil, and finish it off with a lighter walnut oil. I'm also a huge fan of grape seed oil.

Make sure the salad is well-drained, and then lightly toss the salad in the vinaigrette using your fingers. The secret is to make sure that you don't swamp the salad with the dressing. The leaves should be lightly coated in the oil. Easy isn't it?

Cod, Bacon, and Avocado Salad with Rice

 

 

This is an interesting green and white coloured rice salad that I invented a week or so ago, and it worked out surprisingly well.

I steamed some cod fillets. Once they were cooked, I removed the skins, and seasoned them with my latest foodie discovery, Smoked Maldon Salt. Next, I cooked some Uncle Ben's Long Grain Rice with some star anise and two cloves. I once had an argument with the owner of the Kennington Tandoori, who claimed that Uncle Ben's was a poor quality rice. Well! I like it for this sort of recipe, because it has less starch, and each grain remains clean and intact. I bet my bottom dollar that in a blind tasting, he wouldn't be able to tell the difference.

I flaked up the salty cod, and mixed it in with the cooked rice. Then, I added some crispy streaky bacon, fried until crisp, some chopped avocado (sprinkle some lime or lemon juice on it immediately to stop it going black), and a green chili sliced into small strips. Then it's an easy matter to add chopped spring onions, and some chopped parsley or coriander.

Mix it all together gently. Finally, add a dressing: I used a light oil, mixed with a white wine vinegar, and lime juice. Season with sea salt and pepper. You could also add some prawns, but, as always, the best thing, in my opinion, is simplicity...

Yellow Pepper Relish

 

 

This is a quick and easy thing I invented yesterday, and it worked out perfectly. First, I steamed two yellow peppers until they were cooked (first removing the inner pith and seeds with a sharp knife) and then peeled off the skins, so that only the soft yellow flesh was left.

Next, I whizzed up half a red onion in the trusty Magimix, together with a red chili (though, of course you could also use a green one), and two cloves of garlic. Once they had all been thoroughly chopped up, I added the yellow pepper flesh, and using the "pulse" button combined the ingredients carefully. You don't want the peppers to break down too much. Then it was a simple matter of adding fresh lime juice, lots of Maldon Salt, and a good quality Extra Virgin Olive Oil.

It would work brilliantly with cold beef, and the yellow colour is interesting. The sweetness of the peppers balances out well with the sharpness of the lime. Try it, and I don't think you will be disappointed.

Caesar Salad

 

 

Fed up with rich Christmas food? Then the famous Caesar Salad could be the answer to your prayers. Caesar Salad is one of those classic dishes that has been over-tweaked, bastardised, and generally ruined by self-indulgent chefs over the years.

The best Caesar Salad is the original Caesar Salad. It was invented by Caesar Cardini in 1924. Cardini was a chef working at the Hotel Comerical in Tijuana- the Mexican town a few miles from the Californian border. During Prohibition, large parties of Americans used to cross the border in search of booze. The story goes that Cardini created the salad when a large party of hungry Americans turned up for the Fourth of July celebrations. He had run out of food, so made do with what he had left over.

Julia Child, the great food writer, apparently telephoned Cardini's daughter to get the authentic recipe- and came up with this. And who are we to argue with either of them?

First, you need two small heads of Romaine lettuce. Tear the lettuce into large shreds. Add two coddled eggs. Coddling is a technique where you only boil the eggs in their shell for one minute, so that you end up with a runny yolk. Add half a teaspoon of salt, and freshly ground black pepper; the juice of two lemons, ten drops of Lea & Perrins, half a cup of fresh grated Parmesan cheese, and half a cup of garlic oil. Garlic oil is just a good quality Virgin or Extra Virgin olive oil, infused by some garlic cloves for a day or so.

Toss the salad, so that the ingredients combine with the runny egg yolk, and lettuce leaves are well coated. Finish off the dish with some freshly prepared croutons. This is just deep-fried bread- cut into cubes. For some reason, slightly stale bread makes better croutons. You've probably noticed that I haven't added anchovies to my Caesar Salad. I have a strong hunch that the original recipe didn't include them, and I've tried to keep it authentic.

Margarita

 

 

I picked up a taste for the Margarita Cocktail when I was in California. I would argue that it is one of the three greatest cocktails of all time alongside the Dry Martini, and the Bloody Mary. There are various theories as to when and how the Margarita was first born. Carlos "Danny" Herrera is said to have first mixed a concoction of white tequila, lemon juice, and Triple Sec in 1938. He was the barman at the Rancho La Gloria in Tijuana, the Mexican border town where the Caesar Salad had been invented by Caesar Cardini.

Essentially, the Margarita is a mix of Tequila (Silver or Blanco tequilas are preferable to the gold), Triple Sec (ie Cointreau), and Lime Juice (or possibly Lemon Juice). The rim of the glass is moistened with lime juice, and then dipped into salt. Some Margarita afficinados claim that salt was only used to hide the taste of a low-budget tequila, but I have to put up my hand and say that I like the contrast between the salt and the sweetness of the tequila and the Triple Sec.

 

 

I trawled the net for authentic Margarita recipes and found this one from "Drink of the Month" in the December 1953 issue of Esquire Magazine: 1 ounce tequila Dash of Triple Sec Juice of 1/2 lime or lemon Pour over crushed ice, stir. Rub the rim of a stem glass with rind of lemon or lime, spin in salt—pour, and sip. Again, simplicity rules ok? Nothing frozen. No cocktail umbrellas. No extra ingredients. A Margarita is a Margarita. Got it?

Venison Chili

 

 

When I'm in Manhatten, nothing's better than hailing a cab and heading straight for P. J. Clarke's at 55th and 3rd, where you can order a bowl of chili with saltine crackers. I've been hesitant to write about chili, because I know how seriously Americans take it, and that battle reigns between the Texas Red version (meat-rich and without beans), and other recipes from other States. Some have tomatoes; others don't. Some have black beans, some kidney beans, and the Texan cowboy version quite definitely doesn't.

In Britain, chili con carne is often nothing more than stewed mince with kidney beans plus a pinch of chili powder. Here's my idea for a richer more authentic venison chili.

Saute some chopped onions, garlic and chopped red chilis in some oil and butter. Stir in chili powder, oregano, cumin, and paprika. Now add the venison. You can either chop the meat into chunks, or put it through a mincer (if you've got one). Cook for a bit until the meat is sealed and coloured. Now add some stock, beer (the Mexican beer, Corona, is excellent), and a splash of Tabasco. Let the chili simmer at a low heat, until the meat is cooked. You want the sauce to be reasonably thick. When the meat is nearly done, add some tomato puree, or even better, sun-dried tomato paste, and grate in some bitter dark chocolate- the sort of quality chocolate (high in cocoa solids) you can buy in delis and specialist shops. Season with salt and black pepper to taste.

Finally, stir in some cooked beans (Kidney, Haricot, or Black Beans are fine, it doesn't really matter). Serve with grated cheese on top, sour cream, and saltine crackers.

Waldorf Salad

 

Hands up who doesn't love a Waldorf Salad? Named after the Waldorf Hotel in New York, it's supposed to have been invented in 1893 by the maitre d'hotel, Oscar Tschirky- who also laid claim to that tantalising breakfast dish, Eggs Benedict.

Anyway, it's a simple old thing and easily made from a combination of sliced celery, diced apples (I leave the skin on), walnuts, and raisins.

You bind the salad with mayonnaise (I will be initiating you into the secrets of how to make this in a later post), and serve it on a bed of lettuce, as the whim takes you.