Earlier this week we had a short break in Anglesey, taking a tiny cottage for four nights. One night was supposed to feature a pub meal, but lovely though the seaside village was its two central pubs were less than inviting: in one you seemed to be near the toilet wherever you sat, not a great boon to appetite; the other could have made a Hammer Horror setting - dark, empty, silent, creepy.
So with few supplies to hand it was make-do time in the kitchen. That great stand-by the omelette provided the first course, made with two peppers, some garlic, and a load of chorizo. It got me thinking about how certain dishes are so amenable to kitchen sink cookery - the stew and the curry to name but two. The pizza is another obvious contender.
But as so often in cookery, there is an indefinable but readily appreciated limit beyond which a dish shifts from interesting to messy and confused. Had I added another meat - ham say - that omelette would have indeed been messy. Another vegetable - onion or potato - would have worked. Why is that? Am I judging by a standard of meals eaten in my past? Or do the putative ham and actual chorizo clash?
The pizza case is an intriguing one here: we eat four thin home-made ones on our regular pizza nights. Put too many ingredients on one and it doesn't work at all. But it seems fine to have cheese and tomato and anchovy on one, chicken and sweetcorn on another, peppers, pepperami, ham and garlic on a third, etc etc. All the ingredients end up mixed in ones stomach. Eaten slice by slice the different toppings follow one another closely. So is this just a question of taste, keeping flavours more or less discernible, and a momentary question at that?
Showing posts with label Pizza. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pizza. Show all posts
Thursday, 20 February 2014
Friday, 14 February 2014
Finger Fun
I have posted before about not liking recipe books, or rather of much preferring food books that focus on the history and culture of food. It's not just that the recipe ones are dull - and they are - but that I don't believe (other than in very exceptional circs) that a recipe is ever 'done'.
My continual tweaking of the pizza recipe given to me by Ron Mackenna is a case in point. The basics (for four thin crust bases) are still there - 500g flour, 325ml water, 13g salt, 7g yeast - but I have added two tbsp of olive oil to make the dough more elastic. And I now put the naked pizzas in the oven as it is turned on, giving them 10 minutes pre-cooking to ensure they cook through once the toppings are added, and by forming a skin the toppings don't soak in as much. And the flour is now 200g plain 300g white bread flour, the plain making the cooked base crisper.
The toppings have evolved too. I use a tin of toms mashed up and cooked so some of the liquid is steamed off. That's enough to coat two bases, the next stage being to cover the tomato with loads of grated Parmesan. This has the double boon of making the paste dryer still, so it doesn't ensoggify the bread, and is an excuse for using the world's greatest cheese.
OMG as I would say were I not far tooold mature. This has become a recipe. So to sidestep that fate I'd ask a question: is there any better finger food than pizza? Anyone eating pizza other than in a restaurant too posh for pizza anyway should be shot for using a knife and fork with this. It's meant to be eaten with the hands. The bread cools more rapidly than the topping (a generalisation but like most generalisations, including this one, true) so you can hold the thing without burning, but get a hot mouthful. With the basic cheese and tomato version you have a balanced mini-meal with carbs/protein/veggie fibre, anything else being a dietary bonus.
All that said, my home-cooked version is still not up to the standard of a good pizzeria pie. My wife frowns on the idea of spending £500 on a pizza oven for the garden. So the next step is to invest in a pizza stone as an approximation. And if that doesn't do the trick, I'll try the man-stuff route and see if a mate or two will help me build my own with fire-bricks and clay. Or we could walk down the road to Checco's.
My continual tweaking of the pizza recipe given to me by Ron Mackenna is a case in point. The basics (for four thin crust bases) are still there - 500g flour, 325ml water, 13g salt, 7g yeast - but I have added two tbsp of olive oil to make the dough more elastic. And I now put the naked pizzas in the oven as it is turned on, giving them 10 minutes pre-cooking to ensure they cook through once the toppings are added, and by forming a skin the toppings don't soak in as much. And the flour is now 200g plain 300g white bread flour, the plain making the cooked base crisper.
The toppings have evolved too. I use a tin of toms mashed up and cooked so some of the liquid is steamed off. That's enough to coat two bases, the next stage being to cover the tomato with loads of grated Parmesan. This has the double boon of making the paste dryer still, so it doesn't ensoggify the bread, and is an excuse for using the world's greatest cheese.
OMG as I would say were I not far too
All that said, my home-cooked version is still not up to the standard of a good pizzeria pie. My wife frowns on the idea of spending £500 on a pizza oven for the garden. So the next step is to invest in a pizza stone as an approximation. And if that doesn't do the trick, I'll try the man-stuff route and see if a mate or two will help me build my own with fire-bricks and clay. Or we could walk down the road to Checco's.
Thursday, 16 January 2014
Right and Wrong
One of my favourite food writers was, is, Elizabeth David. This in spite of her undoubted snobbishness, and her highly prescriptive thoughts on certain foods. She, though not with 100 per cent consistency, believed in authenticity. Pizza was one such food she tended to see as to be done in a particular way or not at all. It was right (her way) or wrong (any other way).
I can agree that the dumping ground pizza - anything and everything added to one - is horrible. Again my kindergarten kids mixing paint analogy, you add too many colours and you just get muddy brown. But as the pizza base is such a great carrier of toppings I don't see it should be limited to tomato, mozarella and maybe an olive or three.
The smell of pizza dough is drifting through the study door even now, ready to form four bases. Just 500g of flour, 325ml of water, a sachet of dried yeast, 13g of salt and two tbsps of olive oil so the cost is well under 50p. A Sainsbury's basic mozarella (I've tried others, and only the pizza mozarella from Waitrose makes any real difference, and that's a trek across town) is I think 45p, to be used on two of the four, along with to be spread as taste fits: five or six cloves of garlic, a small red chilli, an onion, and a basic red pepper, another 45p the lot, and a tin of chopped toms 32p.
We have a small amount of turkey-breast leftover from Sunday's crown, that with some defrosted sweetcorn will add a few more pennies. A £1 taster-pack of peperone will make the basis of another topping, with three or four mushrooms, and an 80p tin of anchovies plus a few leftover olives a third. A few leaves from a £1 bag of baby spinach leaves will find a home on one of them, probably the turkey jobbie, the balance to make a small salad to assuage the guilt. So three pizzas, a garlic bread, and a small salad will set us back under £5.
None of those is going to be authentic, in Elizabeth David's terms, except maybe the garlic bread. But my son when we go out for pizza often goes for chicken and sweetcorn; and spinach with cheese of any sort is great. Plus an Italian peasant of yore would have done the same thing - it is pan y companatico, bread and something that goes with bread - when we had the whole Serrano ham slivers of that went perfectly.
Authenticity be buggered, this is just the best thing to eat on our one night where we slob out and dine in front of the TV.
I can agree that the dumping ground pizza - anything and everything added to one - is horrible. Again my kindergarten kids mixing paint analogy, you add too many colours and you just get muddy brown. But as the pizza base is such a great carrier of toppings I don't see it should be limited to tomato, mozarella and maybe an olive or three.
The smell of pizza dough is drifting through the study door even now, ready to form four bases. Just 500g of flour, 325ml of water, a sachet of dried yeast, 13g of salt and two tbsps of olive oil so the cost is well under 50p. A Sainsbury's basic mozarella (I've tried others, and only the pizza mozarella from Waitrose makes any real difference, and that's a trek across town) is I think 45p, to be used on two of the four, along with to be spread as taste fits: five or six cloves of garlic, a small red chilli, an onion, and a basic red pepper, another 45p the lot, and a tin of chopped toms 32p.
We have a small amount of turkey-breast leftover from Sunday's crown, that with some defrosted sweetcorn will add a few more pennies. A £1 taster-pack of peperone will make the basis of another topping, with three or four mushrooms, and an 80p tin of anchovies plus a few leftover olives a third. A few leaves from a £1 bag of baby spinach leaves will find a home on one of them, probably the turkey jobbie, the balance to make a small salad to assuage the guilt. So three pizzas, a garlic bread, and a small salad will set us back under £5.
None of those is going to be authentic, in Elizabeth David's terms, except maybe the garlic bread. But my son when we go out for pizza often goes for chicken and sweetcorn; and spinach with cheese of any sort is great. Plus an Italian peasant of yore would have done the same thing - it is pan y companatico, bread and something that goes with bread - when we had the whole Serrano ham slivers of that went perfectly.
Authenticity be buggered, this is just the best thing to eat on our one night where we slob out and dine in front of the TV.
Thursday, 12 December 2013
A Whole Ham for the Hambone?
Though Ruth said I was being foolish to do so, I went early to Aldi to buy - on the day they were to be in store - one of their Serrano hams advertised at £49.99 with knife, stand and sharpening steel. For some reason (it being sold cheaper on the internet apparently) it was actually £39.99. Not surprisingly perhaps the one I got at 8:30 was the last then in stock, the store having opened at 8:00.
The ham weighs 6.5kg, so quite a bit to go at over the Christmas break. It will make life easy when we have friends and neighbours (who generally are friends anyway) over. I'm looking forward to the meat, but having a hambone with which to make stock is a massive bonus. For the next few days I'll be thinking of recipes for the scraps and the mis-shapes too as we try to cut see-through slices. Omelette, pizza, risotto, tiny cubes in paella...
As per a previous post, however, the simplicity of the thing appeals hugely too. Any of us fancying a snack or a quick starter will be able - with a bit of practice - to dig in. It does take practice, as we found pre-Joe when I brought a whole cured ham back from France, nestled among the wine that filled the boot at the end of every continental business trip by car. We had no long thin knife then, and so every other slice was too thick, chewed determinedly or cut up and used in stews etc.
Cooking with the stuff is not, though, the real point of it. Simplicity, simplicity, simplicity again: ham, bread, wine, salad, talk. And more ham. That's the point.
Friday, 15 November 2013
The World Must Know - Perfect Pizza
It seems odd to have learnt how to make perfect pizza dough from a Scot named Ron Mackenna while touring Michelin-starred restaurants in South West France. His portfolio career is as intriguing - he's a defence lawyer in Glasgow and restaurant critic for a national newspaper. But it is his family recipe that I have used recently to great effect (no criticism, which speaks silent volumes). The story behind the recipe is that his ancestry is part Italian.
Previously I used a bread-maker dough that included sugar and pretty much worked but didn't quite hit the spot. Ron's recipe is wonderfully simple, always a quality to be praised in cookery - if it works, and this does.
The ingredients: 500g flour (I use a roughly 50/50 mix of white bread and plain as the latter makes the bases crispier), 325ml of cold water; 13g of salt; a 7g sachet of dried yeast. To this after a few experiments I now add 2tbsp of olive oil to make the dough more elastic. Mix the ingredients well in a big bowl, knead for 10 minutes then leave somewhere warm to rise - the old double-in-volume cliche is a good marker. Divide the risen dough in four lumps and roll these out into pizza shapes then leave them for half an hour or more to rise again. Put on your toppings and cook in the hottest temperature your oven can reach - mine is 250 Celsius but it struggles to stay there.
On my birthday recently I thought I'd be lazy and bought two pizzas from M&S. They were disappointing in so many ways - badly seasoned, mean toppings with little flavour, but most of all the base was nowhere near as tasty and properly pizza-y as Ron's.
Pizza is a perfect Thursday meal, in two ways. Like half the country I do the main food shop on Friday, so by Thursday the cupboard may not be bare, but the lumps of meat tend to have gone - though there is always a tin of chopped tomatoes. That - drained - does for two bases, with additions that tend to include garlic, briefly sweated mushrooms, more garlic, thinly sliced onion, a few prawns left in the freezer, slivers of the last pepper in the fridge, a tin of sardines with the bones removed by the maker or me, slices of ham or salami, and if I have remembered mozzarella. Elizabeth David (great writer, great inspiration, huge snob) demanded minimalist pizza toppings, I dare to disagree - it is a using up meal, a making the best of stuff meal, but with judgement.
It's a Thursday thing too in that we always eat our meal in the lounge that day for some long forgotten reason. And pizza is perfect for that, Ron's perfect pizza making it even more so if that were not philosophically impossible.
Update: I tried this using the dough setting on my breadmaker, and it was better than my hand-kneaded version.
Previously I used a bread-maker dough that included sugar and pretty much worked but didn't quite hit the spot. Ron's recipe is wonderfully simple, always a quality to be praised in cookery - if it works, and this does.
The ingredients: 500g flour (I use a roughly 50/50 mix of white bread and plain as the latter makes the bases crispier), 325ml of cold water; 13g of salt; a 7g sachet of dried yeast. To this after a few experiments I now add 2tbsp of olive oil to make the dough more elastic. Mix the ingredients well in a big bowl, knead for 10 minutes then leave somewhere warm to rise - the old double-in-volume cliche is a good marker. Divide the risen dough in four lumps and roll these out into pizza shapes then leave them for half an hour or more to rise again. Put on your toppings and cook in the hottest temperature your oven can reach - mine is 250 Celsius but it struggles to stay there.
On my birthday recently I thought I'd be lazy and bought two pizzas from M&S. They were disappointing in so many ways - badly seasoned, mean toppings with little flavour, but most of all the base was nowhere near as tasty and properly pizza-y as Ron's.
Pizza is a perfect Thursday meal, in two ways. Like half the country I do the main food shop on Friday, so by Thursday the cupboard may not be bare, but the lumps of meat tend to have gone - though there is always a tin of chopped tomatoes. That - drained - does for two bases, with additions that tend to include garlic, briefly sweated mushrooms, more garlic, thinly sliced onion, a few prawns left in the freezer, slivers of the last pepper in the fridge, a tin of sardines with the bones removed by the maker or me, slices of ham or salami, and if I have remembered mozzarella. Elizabeth David (great writer, great inspiration, huge snob) demanded minimalist pizza toppings, I dare to disagree - it is a using up meal, a making the best of stuff meal, but with judgement.
It's a Thursday thing too in that we always eat our meal in the lounge that day for some long forgotten reason. And pizza is perfect for that, Ron's perfect pizza making it even more so if that were not philosophically impossible.
Update: I tried this using the dough setting on my breadmaker, and it was better than my hand-kneaded version.
Monday, 3 June 2013
Austerity Feast
Wonderful weather prompted us to invite a few friends over for a mid-afternoon meal to be eaten in the garden on Sunday. The same weather had kept me from shopping, so I had to improvise with stuff from the garden and stores. Not exactly an austerity feast, but we resisted the temptation to rush out and buy a ton of ingredients to feed the five thousand - well, seven.
Last of the Swiss chard made a good soup with a couple of onions, some potatoes to thicken it, and liquid from a roasting chicken (defrosted from our intervention stock the day before). Same chicken (covered and stuffed with herbs to lift it) with a load of lettuce and other leaves fresh from the garden went farther as a salad than it would have as a chunk of meat each. And in between those courses three pizzas with different toppings, cut into slices and presented on a huge plate, filled stomachs and interested palates (especially the anchovy and chilli one, hot hot hot).
On a perfect sunny afternoon you can get away with a lot. No pudding - just cheeses - met with approval instead of violence, as we could cut and nibble away while talking. Maybe we are going to have the first proper summer for about six years. The sunshine makes a huge difference. Our guests brought some good wines, we added to the list, made sure everything was well chilled (only whites and roses in evidence) and the warmth turned them into something special.
One more 'course' preceded the above, a cheap and cheerful Cava chilled to death and made into rhubarb bellinis. Hugh F-W's idea, 500g of rhubarb stewed with sugar and orange juice for 15 minutes then the syrup (once chilled) sieved off and used 1:4 with the fizz. Surprisingly it was absolutely lovely, but then again we did have that sun.
Wednesday, 17 April 2013
Flan in the Pan
The idea mentioned the other day as so successful - pizza dough with edges rolled over to form a lip, part cooked before being filled and finished - worked beautifully again today, this time with onion, mushroom and cheese as the filling. More tart than pizza. Or perhaps it's flan in the pan.
Again with the Richard Bacon thing. This was done to provide us with an interesting way of adding to the veg this evening, so more than a little healthy. And it cost by my estimate under £1. What would we have got for £1 at MacDonald's Richard (apart from spotty skin and a desperate feeling that all our clothes needed washing at once)?
Again with the Richard Bacon thing. This was done to provide us with an interesting way of adding to the veg this evening, so more than a little healthy. And it cost by my estimate under £1. What would we have got for £1 at MacDonald's Richard (apart from spotty skin and a desperate feeling that all our clothes needed washing at once)?
Sunday, 14 April 2013
I Bake, but not on Tarty TV
Our ridiculous culture of copycats and characterless celebrities has spawned a phenomenon - the rise (he-he) of baking - about which I am ambivalent. It's great that people are being drawn into cooking of any sort; but it is annoying that in the way of these things some media outlets act as if a) baking is new to the world; b) only the photogenic (count me out then) should be doing this; and c) we suddenly need 50 programmes on the topic.
A rainy Sunday and I felt the need to do something physical and creative, so I made some pizza dough and ended up with an onion and cheese tart of sorts - rolled over edges, base cooked on its own for 10 minutes, then filled with onions sliced thinly and previously cooked until very soft in olive oil, plus some grated cheddar. The filled version needed another 15 minutes to finish.
It was meant to be a slice each for lunch with a small salad, and some left for my wife's pack-up tomorrow. We ate it all.
As far as austerity goes it was about 25p of bread flour, 5p of yeast, at the very most 35p of onions (I used red to brighten it up), and £0.75 for the cheese. Even allowing for under-estimates and the cost of heating the oven to maximum something that proved (he-he again) to be fresh, warm, and really tasty cost well under £2.
Actually the surplus dough made a small garlic bread and some breadsticks, so even more of a bargain.
I posted about the madness of us spending £13 billion on the Olympics in the foolish belief that it would change the health of the nation (or at least that was one of the reasons given). Teaching people to cook would have been a far better use of the dosh. Am I turning into Ed Balls, spending in my imagination the same notional money over and over again, as I had posted before about using some (a very small part) of those wasted funds to provide allotments for a million people?
A rainy Sunday and I felt the need to do something physical and creative, so I made some pizza dough and ended up with an onion and cheese tart of sorts - rolled over edges, base cooked on its own for 10 minutes, then filled with onions sliced thinly and previously cooked until very soft in olive oil, plus some grated cheddar. The filled version needed another 15 minutes to finish.
It was meant to be a slice each for lunch with a small salad, and some left for my wife's pack-up tomorrow. We ate it all.
As far as austerity goes it was about 25p of bread flour, 5p of yeast, at the very most 35p of onions (I used red to brighten it up), and £0.75 for the cheese. Even allowing for under-estimates and the cost of heating the oven to maximum something that proved (he-he again) to be fresh, warm, and really tasty cost well under £2.
Actually the surplus dough made a small garlic bread and some breadsticks, so even more of a bargain.
I posted about the madness of us spending £13 billion on the Olympics in the foolish belief that it would change the health of the nation (or at least that was one of the reasons given). Teaching people to cook would have been a far better use of the dosh. Am I turning into Ed Balls, spending in my imagination the same notional money over and over again, as I had posted before about using some (a very small part) of those wasted funds to provide allotments for a million people?
Thursday, 11 April 2013
Improve Your Pizza
The blessed Hugh of crackling fireplace in every room including the loo fame is actually one of my favourite food writers - certainly of contemporary exponents of the art he is in my opinion the best, not least for his ethical stance which it is clear is not a marketing-man's afterthought.
I frequently refer to HFW's books for tips and enjoyment. Browsing through The River Cottage Fish Book looking to glean a few ideas for my smoker project I noticed two ways to improve my homemade pizzas: a 50/50 mix of plain and bread flour (I've used all bread flour previously), and pre-heating the pan in the oven. The results were definitely far less soggy in the centre, and the edges were beautifully crisp (but then I do make them very thin).
Other posts have sung the praises of homemade pizza but the message bears repeating. Setting aside the fun of making them... no, I won't, that really should be a big part of cooking. Putting together your toppings, watching and smelling your creations progress, all adds to the joy of snacks (yes I know Terry Pratchett got there first). And for the austerity cook they're a boon, and I'll dare say far healthier than shop-bought options. Last night we had plenty of onion, a whole red pepper, a drained tin of chopped toms and half a pack of mushrooms incorporated in the toppings, along with a head of garlic. The protein was largely oily fish too, viz a tin of boneless sardines and another of anchovies.
Back-of-the-envelope calculation has the cost of three pizzas and one big garlic bread yesterday at under £5. You could buy very nasty supermarket cheapies for less, but shame on you for doing so unless absolutely forced by circs, or you could buy half-decent ones for twice that (four times if you go for delivered-to-your-door-and-god-have-mercy-on-your-soul). But you'd miss out on all the fun.
I frequently refer to HFW's books for tips and enjoyment. Browsing through The River Cottage Fish Book looking to glean a few ideas for my smoker project I noticed two ways to improve my homemade pizzas: a 50/50 mix of plain and bread flour (I've used all bread flour previously), and pre-heating the pan in the oven. The results were definitely far less soggy in the centre, and the edges were beautifully crisp (but then I do make them very thin).
Other posts have sung the praises of homemade pizza but the message bears repeating. Setting aside the fun of making them... no, I won't, that really should be a big part of cooking. Putting together your toppings, watching and smelling your creations progress, all adds to the joy of snacks (yes I know Terry Pratchett got there first). And for the austerity cook they're a boon, and I'll dare say far healthier than shop-bought options. Last night we had plenty of onion, a whole red pepper, a drained tin of chopped toms and half a pack of mushrooms incorporated in the toppings, along with a head of garlic. The protein was largely oily fish too, viz a tin of boneless sardines and another of anchovies.
Back-of-the-envelope calculation has the cost of three pizzas and one big garlic bread yesterday at under £5. You could buy very nasty supermarket cheapies for less, but shame on you for doing so unless absolutely forced by circs, or you could buy half-decent ones for twice that (four times if you go for delivered-to-your-door-and-god-have-mercy-on-your-soul). But you'd miss out on all the fun.
Sunday, 24 March 2013
Garlic Bread to Die for - and from
The pizzas midweek were so good that I actually had a request (for which read order) from my angelic wife for more of the same on Saturday, for our regular weekend zonk by the fire meal. There was a rider to the command too, which was that a garlic bread should be included. So the quantities in the dough recipe were upped by 33 per cent to accommodate a massive GB.
For once I learned from a past mistake or three, and instead of putting the garlic on the raw dough to cook with it, I very gently fried about a dozen cloves (no exaggeration) sliced finely in some olive oil until the smell permeated the kitchen (dining room, next floor and some of the street outside). When the nicely risen dough was nearly done garlic and oil were tipped on and returned for a few minutes in the oven. A hefty pinch of Maldon salt was strewn on the finished article. The bread measured about 20 inches by six, and I got one slice two-by-two, it was that good. Hugely garlicky.
This by my very rough calculation cost about 40p. It was not a million miles from restaurant fare, and pleased both Sternest Critic and the capo di tutti capi.
Both recent batches of pizza have undoubtedly been better than previous versions because when kneading the machine-mixed and risen dough I have incorporated a tearing action along with the full-body knuckle massage move. You live and learn, if the garlic hit doesn't kill you.
For once I learned from a past mistake or three, and instead of putting the garlic on the raw dough to cook with it, I very gently fried about a dozen cloves (no exaggeration) sliced finely in some olive oil until the smell permeated the kitchen (dining room, next floor and some of the street outside). When the nicely risen dough was nearly done garlic and oil were tipped on and returned for a few minutes in the oven. A hefty pinch of Maldon salt was strewn on the finished article. The bread measured about 20 inches by six, and I got one slice two-by-two, it was that good. Hugely garlicky.
This by my very rough calculation cost about 40p. It was not a million miles from restaurant fare, and pleased both Sternest Critic and the capo di tutti capi.
Both recent batches of pizza have undoubtedly been better than previous versions because when kneading the machine-mixed and risen dough I have incorporated a tearing action along with the full-body knuckle massage move. You live and learn, if the garlic hit doesn't kill you.
Tuesday, 19 March 2013
Free Pizza!
Ok, so not actually free. But bloody cheap, and a whole lot better than the nasty cheapo versions (and some of the dearer ones too) that the supermarkets have to offer.
I think I've posted about this before. Or written as we used to have it. The pizza base is made in my bread-maker, the recipe an adaptation of the one that its book gives - and a simple adaptation too, two tablespoons of olive oil replacing the one of melted butter in the original. This makes the dough nicely elastic, and the finished product is crisper I think.
And this is an austerity thing, with last night's three pizzas toppings included costing by my guestimate much less than £4. All were topped with tomato, a tin thereof plus a teaspoon of sugar and some salt reduced to what my accurately wife called a jam. One fishy: anchovies and little prawns, plus very thinly-sliced onion and strips of red pepper; one meaty: half a spicy chorizo sausage (I know it's Spanish but frankly don't care - and please do not pronounce it cho-ritzo or we cannot be friends), plus a liberal dusting of Parmesan and more of the same veg; and one with chicken (leftover from the weekend) and sweetcorn, plus Parmesan again. Oh, and lots of see-through-thin slices of garlic on the first two.
I don't give a tinker's that they are not 'authentic'. They were made with what we had to hand, and seemed suitable. Which probably makes them definitively peasant-fare.
The secret, which is far from secret, is to have the oven at its highest temperature, and not open it for at least 10 minutes while the pizzas (on flat metal pans) cook to crispness. When the edge is brown, they're done. And another well-known secret is that you don't need rubbery mozzarella. Good stuff is fine if you can get it, grated over the tomato or topping if you prefer, but tomato paste and a tasty topping makes for almost rustic simplicity.
I love the relaxed intimacy of eating pizza, or at least good pizza. Use a knife and fork and you look ridiculous, though we needed to with the salad afterwards. Pizza is finger-food, with finger-licking to follow.
I think I've posted about this before. Or written as we used to have it. The pizza base is made in my bread-maker, the recipe an adaptation of the one that its book gives - and a simple adaptation too, two tablespoons of olive oil replacing the one of melted butter in the original. This makes the dough nicely elastic, and the finished product is crisper I think.
And this is an austerity thing, with last night's three pizzas toppings included costing by my guestimate much less than £4. All were topped with tomato, a tin thereof plus a teaspoon of sugar and some salt reduced to what my accurately wife called a jam. One fishy: anchovies and little prawns, plus very thinly-sliced onion and strips of red pepper; one meaty: half a spicy chorizo sausage (I know it's Spanish but frankly don't care - and please do not pronounce it cho-ritzo or we cannot be friends), plus a liberal dusting of Parmesan and more of the same veg; and one with chicken (leftover from the weekend) and sweetcorn, plus Parmesan again. Oh, and lots of see-through-thin slices of garlic on the first two.
I don't give a tinker's that they are not 'authentic'. They were made with what we had to hand, and seemed suitable. Which probably makes them definitively peasant-fare.
The secret, which is far from secret, is to have the oven at its highest temperature, and not open it for at least 10 minutes while the pizzas (on flat metal pans) cook to crispness. When the edge is brown, they're done. And another well-known secret is that you don't need rubbery mozzarella. Good stuff is fine if you can get it, grated over the tomato or topping if you prefer, but tomato paste and a tasty topping makes for almost rustic simplicity.
I love the relaxed intimacy of eating pizza, or at least good pizza. Use a knife and fork and you look ridiculous, though we needed to with the salad afterwards. Pizza is finger-food, with finger-licking to follow.
Saturday, 2 February 2013
Nearly Vegetarian III
On Thursday I did another vegetarian meal. Nearly vegetarian. As the intention is to cut down on meat rather than cut it out, it passes my personal test.
This, a cheaty mushroom tart, was one of the best things I've done in a while. Even SC said it was not at all bad, a paean of praise from him. Some bought puff pastry rolled out to fit my flat griddle pan, which cooks pastry nicely, was covered with a grated mozzarella, a couple of slices of Parma ham in thin ribbons, about 75p of mushrooms (and given they were bought from Morrison's this meant a lot of mushrooms) previously cooked in a little butter and a lot of garlic, then drained to keep the sogginess to the minimum. The whole thing was covered in grated Parmesan, and cooked in a hot oven (220C) for about 15 minutes.
What made it look nice was having the filling inside a margin about 2cm from the edge, the surface of the puff pastry barely cut through with the tip of a sharp knife. This rises up to make a neat wall that keeps the filling from spilling out at all.
Served with a green-ish salad (strips of red pepper perked up the colour) it was at least three of our five a day. Five minutes of prep, five to cook the 'shrooms, 15 to cook the pastry itself. It would have taken that to do a packet pizza, which for anything half-way acceptable would have cost the £4 that I reckon that set us back. And packet pizza would not have tasted half as good.
This, a cheaty mushroom tart, was one of the best things I've done in a while. Even SC said it was not at all bad, a paean of praise from him. Some bought puff pastry rolled out to fit my flat griddle pan, which cooks pastry nicely, was covered with a grated mozzarella, a couple of slices of Parma ham in thin ribbons, about 75p of mushrooms (and given they were bought from Morrison's this meant a lot of mushrooms) previously cooked in a little butter and a lot of garlic, then drained to keep the sogginess to the minimum. The whole thing was covered in grated Parmesan, and cooked in a hot oven (220C) for about 15 minutes.
What made it look nice was having the filling inside a margin about 2cm from the edge, the surface of the puff pastry barely cut through with the tip of a sharp knife. This rises up to make a neat wall that keeps the filling from spilling out at all.
Served with a green-ish salad (strips of red pepper perked up the colour) it was at least three of our five a day. Five minutes of prep, five to cook the 'shrooms, 15 to cook the pastry itself. It would have taken that to do a packet pizza, which for anything half-way acceptable would have cost the £4 that I reckon that set us back. And packet pizza would not have tasted half as good.
Tuesday, 22 January 2013
Even Austerity Cooks Need a Break
Last night with wife returning home extremely fed up with work, and having said to SC that post exams we would take him out to his favourite restaurant, we went to East is East in Preston centre. And I was happy to suggest it, as even austerity cooks need a break.
It is not a curry house, it is a restaurant, and a very good one. Their menu features the Anglo-Indian stuff like Baltis (sadly on the list as Balti's) and so on, but with plenty of more exotic dishes - lamb's brains and lamb's trotters (their designation) in the Punjabi specialities section.
We go to East is East for several reasons. The service is always impeccable without being intrusive. The surroundings are many notches above the too frequent cod Raj stuff found elsewhere. For three of us last night, with a decent tip, it cost £75 (just poppadoms etc as starters, a curry each, one rice, one saag aloo, two naan breads about 45cm x 25cm, one fizzy water, one jug of iced tap water). The naan breads are the best I have ever come across, giant moist things with the perfect blend of crispy bubbly bits and soft doughyness. The rest of the food is always excellent. And from the cook's point of view, or this cook's anyway, 'Indian' food is the hardest to replicate in the home kitchen.
I can make French food (maybe spending so much time there helps) that I hope would please a Frenchman; my Italian stuff is (pizzas apart) as good as we'd get (sometimes better says he immodestly) as we'd be served at our local trattoria. When we eat Chinese food locally at least we feel hung over next day even if not a drop has passed our lips, maybe from the MSG, and the things I make are often slightly more adventurous than sweet and sour pork etc beloved of the mainstream Chinese restaurant (we have yet to try a highly recommended one near my wife's office, frequented by crowds of Chinese students studying at her university). But I have never come close to making curries anywhere near as good as East is East's, or a few other places we occasionally use.
Perhaps that is the spices and herbs they use (fresh fenugreek leaves in my chicken dish yesterday) not always being in a very English kitchen cupboard. The time and care taken to make the base of so many curries is another factor. We have no tandoori oven for the naan breads of course, and re-heated supermarket jobbies are universally poor. This is the only food where I have been at all tempted to buy ready-made, but I resisted the temptation on principle and because I'm a bit mean. So for a proper curry of the East is East sort, we will still have to make our way to East is East.
It is not a curry house, it is a restaurant, and a very good one. Their menu features the Anglo-Indian stuff like Baltis (sadly on the list as Balti's) and so on, but with plenty of more exotic dishes - lamb's brains and lamb's trotters (their designation) in the Punjabi specialities section.
We go to East is East for several reasons. The service is always impeccable without being intrusive. The surroundings are many notches above the too frequent cod Raj stuff found elsewhere. For three of us last night, with a decent tip, it cost £75 (just poppadoms etc as starters, a curry each, one rice, one saag aloo, two naan breads about 45cm x 25cm, one fizzy water, one jug of iced tap water). The naan breads are the best I have ever come across, giant moist things with the perfect blend of crispy bubbly bits and soft doughyness. The rest of the food is always excellent. And from the cook's point of view, or this cook's anyway, 'Indian' food is the hardest to replicate in the home kitchen.
I can make French food (maybe spending so much time there helps) that I hope would please a Frenchman; my Italian stuff is (pizzas apart) as good as we'd get (sometimes better says he immodestly) as we'd be served at our local trattoria. When we eat Chinese food locally at least we feel hung over next day even if not a drop has passed our lips, maybe from the MSG, and the things I make are often slightly more adventurous than sweet and sour pork etc beloved of the mainstream Chinese restaurant (we have yet to try a highly recommended one near my wife's office, frequented by crowds of Chinese students studying at her university). But I have never come close to making curries anywhere near as good as East is East's, or a few other places we occasionally use.
Perhaps that is the spices and herbs they use (fresh fenugreek leaves in my chicken dish yesterday) not always being in a very English kitchen cupboard. The time and care taken to make the base of so many curries is another factor. We have no tandoori oven for the naan breads of course, and re-heated supermarket jobbies are universally poor. This is the only food where I have been at all tempted to buy ready-made, but I resisted the temptation on principle and because I'm a bit mean. So for a proper curry of the East is East sort, we will still have to make our way to East is East.
Saturday, 26 November 2011
Homemade Pizza
Homemade pizza is not supermarket bought then heated in the oven, nor even your own toppings on a readymade base. It is made from scratch, which with a breadmaker is simple. My recipe for enough dough for three thin pizzas is a cup of water, 2.75 cups of strong white flour, 2.5 tbsps of olive oil, a tsp of sugar, 3tbsps of milk powder, 4tbsps of sugar, 1 tsp dried yeast. Dough setting, wait for 90 minutes and then knock back, knead, roll into circles (that is the bit I struggle with, mine look like the outlines of Rohrschach blots), leave to rise for at least 15 minutes then add toppings and cook at or near your oven's max temperature till done - about 15 minutes.
We love a fishy version, made with a tin of sardines (backbones removed) and half a tin of anchovies, plus lightly fried onions and peppers (back to the Basics range) and a cheap Basics mozarella, so about £1.50 for that one.
Cheaper and still great is a version of Napoletana (I think) with half a tin of toms (JS Basics again, or Lidl's are excellent for all of 33p) cooked down to a paste with a teaspoon of sugar added, spread on the base followed by more of the onions and pepper, the rest of the anchovies, and some halved pitted black olives from a jar in the fridge that lasts a week or more of salads and suchlike.
The third uses slices of salami - I buy the JS £1 Try Me packs as they are enough for a whole pizza, or for a starter with crudites etc - the onions and pepper, sliced garlic and another cheapo mozarella, plus a few Parmesan shavings made with a potato peeler.
It's important to cook them on metal pizza plates or at a pinch a metal griddle sheet so they don't end up soggy (as they would with pot or glass carriers). So three pizzas for about £3.50 worth of ingredients, the cost of one from the shop or half a (decent) takeaway pizza. For us a Thursday night treat eaten in front of the TV - it's Big Bang Theory Night - instead of the usual family gathering round the dining table. It's a particular treat for me as I love making them and my careful side likes thinking about how much Pizza Express versions (which are admittedly good) would have cost.
We love a fishy version, made with a tin of sardines (backbones removed) and half a tin of anchovies, plus lightly fried onions and peppers (back to the Basics range) and a cheap Basics mozarella, so about £1.50 for that one.
Cheaper and still great is a version of Napoletana (I think) with half a tin of toms (JS Basics again, or Lidl's are excellent for all of 33p) cooked down to a paste with a teaspoon of sugar added, spread on the base followed by more of the onions and pepper, the rest of the anchovies, and some halved pitted black olives from a jar in the fridge that lasts a week or more of salads and suchlike.
The third uses slices of salami - I buy the JS £1 Try Me packs as they are enough for a whole pizza, or for a starter with crudites etc - the onions and pepper, sliced garlic and another cheapo mozarella, plus a few Parmesan shavings made with a potato peeler.
It's important to cook them on metal pizza plates or at a pinch a metal griddle sheet so they don't end up soggy (as they would with pot or glass carriers). So three pizzas for about £3.50 worth of ingredients, the cost of one from the shop or half a (decent) takeaway pizza. For us a Thursday night treat eaten in front of the TV - it's Big Bang Theory Night - instead of the usual family gathering round the dining table. It's a particular treat for me as I love making them and my careful side likes thinking about how much Pizza Express versions (which are admittedly good) would have cost.
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