Being a mean beast who cuts things very fine (Ratty in Wind in the Willows) I don't like to use the oven for just one thing, especially as ours is one of those with a double-sized space one side and a mini version (only ever used to warm plates) the other. So I try to remember to include a few unpeeled onions to give the makings of a simple onion with cheese veg dish, some beetroot, or baking potatoes, or most often a gratin.
The one-flame cookery idea easily incorporates such economy, as why should one flame mean on dish only? Saturday's party (very enjoyable thanks) included a 6lb brisket dry rubbed with spices and sugar roasted at about 120C for nearly eight hours. That would have been a profligate use of the oven had it been just for one dish. So I also did a big potato gratin, loads of onions, loads of cheddar, slow cooked for two and a half hours, and a toffee-crumb apple and quince pudding, conscious assuaged.
Gratins are such a simple thing to do as I was explaining to hopefully-soon-to-be student Sternest Critic. What they do need is time and thus patience. It's not something to throw together for a quick snack. And they can be very cheap filler-uppers. That was secondary in my thinking for the bonfire bash for which its forgiving nature was uppermost in my thoughts: it was ready a good half an hour before I took it out, but didn't spoil at all (if anything the cheese got a nicer browning) for being left longer, and could have remained at that heat without damage for another hour. Again it could have been cooked at 180C and been ready in less than half the time.
It's also the sort of cooking I love - no recipe, just a basic idea and method. If you have to weigh the ingredients for a gratin you're trying too hard. Just peeled and sliced spuds and onions (the latter very thin), grated cheese, layered onion-spud-cheese then repeated, a bit of salt and pepper, and cooking liquid (hot) which can be milk, milk and cream, stock or at a real pinch just water. The alchemy of baking turns these basic staples into a meltingly delicious whole. We have lots of celeriac on our allotment, another grateful for the gratin treatment, and parsnip likewise, so I have no excuse for not doing more and bringing in more variations as autumn turns to winter.
Showing posts with label one flame. Show all posts
Showing posts with label one flame. Show all posts
Monday, 4 November 2013
Wednesday, 8 May 2013
One Pot Cooking and Attention Spans
Unlike many old farts I think that attention spans have not changed over the years. There are more things to do maybe, so people flit from one to another, but they pay attention while doing them. I do wonder if the exception is in the kitchen, where if the TV ads are to be believed we all want something that can be reheated in seconds. Or maybe prefer to have something greasy delivered to our doors (is it harsh to believe that in a sensible world those involved in the Just Eat campaign would be disemboweled? maybe a tad).
I did a one pot main course yesterday that did need looking at. It wasn't a one flame jobbie though, as it started on a burner, moved to the oven, then was finished on the hob again. It could not just be forgotten.
In an oval Le Creuset dish I browned three teeny lamb chops. When their fat had run a little I added some quartered mushrooms, then into the 180C oven for 15 minutes. Out of the oven, drop in a handful or two of frozen peas, a splash of boiling water and a few scraps of butter, and onto the hob to simmer until the peas are done. The sauce if such it was with the lamb fat and the liquid that had come out of the mushrooms proved tasty enough that our bread dipped it all up.
As I love cooking (and eating) that was not a chore. Indeed time in the kitchen is for me a pleasure. But it did require attention, and my presence for most of the process.
I did a one pot main course yesterday that did need looking at. It wasn't a one flame jobbie though, as it started on a burner, moved to the oven, then was finished on the hob again. It could not just be forgotten.
In an oval Le Creuset dish I browned three teeny lamb chops. When their fat had run a little I added some quartered mushrooms, then into the 180C oven for 15 minutes. Out of the oven, drop in a handful or two of frozen peas, a splash of boiling water and a few scraps of butter, and onto the hob to simmer until the peas are done. The sauce if such it was with the lamb fat and the liquid that had come out of the mushrooms proved tasty enough that our bread dipped it all up.
As I love cooking (and eating) that was not a chore. Indeed time in the kitchen is for me a pleasure. But it did require attention, and my presence for most of the process.
Tuesday, 20 November 2012
One Flame Flambeing - Flash in the Pan
The recent post about pancakes set me thinking about the flambe (how do you do accents on this thing?). I was tempted when cooking crepes the other night to get showy and squeeze some more flavour in by using rum or brandy on a couple of them. As the late great Kenneth Williams sang "Ah, ma Crepe Suzette."
It's a good skill to have in your locker, especially if you are cooking on one burner and you want to do something special. But this is one to practice with very great care - 20 years back I nearly fire-bombed our neighbours' newly decorated kitchen when cooking pud for them - a foolish combination of too much alcohol in me and too much in the ladle I was using to warm the spirit. Flames a good four feet up. Happily they were out of the room and when they came back everything was under control.
For bedsit sophistication it is worth learning, though. On a single pancake I'd only use a tbsp of cognac, my method being to pour it in a metal ladle, warm that over the hob or flame, then either tip it to use that flame to light it, or use one of those lighters you have to ignite gas flames, or a long match (take care! do it from the side not above!). You get a nice blue flame on the liquid, which when you tip it in the pan - I guess suddenly increasing the surface area thus the oxygen - whooshes rather alarmingly and burns itself out after sending flames a foot or so up. Alternatively, and generally less dramatically, pour the spirit on the food in the medium-hot pan and ignite it in there. The benefits in culinary terms are some caramelization of the food's surface, and a residue of the spirit's flavour.
A pork steak lends itself to this method, and whisky, cognac or ideally Calvados all do nicely. Gin is great with seafood, but so more surprisingly is whisky. Steak Diane was a Seventies classic, beef fillet that was finished at the table by flambeing it in brandy. The waiter always had a moustache, and knew that to keep it the head needed to be well away from the flames.
If you want to try this, my suggestion is get someone who has it off pat to teach you in person, or at the very least study a few YouTube videos on how to do it. And on your own head be it by the way.
A few rules: you need a steady hand; never try it if you would not be fit to drive in blood-alcohol terms; you need less alcohol than you think; for goodness' sake never try to be clever and contain the flames in a covered pan - think about it; and don't use spirits that don't suit the food. Fun though the technique is, you need to be serious when doing this, otherwise you are literally playing with fire.
It's a good skill to have in your locker, especially if you are cooking on one burner and you want to do something special. But this is one to practice with very great care - 20 years back I nearly fire-bombed our neighbours' newly decorated kitchen when cooking pud for them - a foolish combination of too much alcohol in me and too much in the ladle I was using to warm the spirit. Flames a good four feet up. Happily they were out of the room and when they came back everything was under control.
For bedsit sophistication it is worth learning, though. On a single pancake I'd only use a tbsp of cognac, my method being to pour it in a metal ladle, warm that over the hob or flame, then either tip it to use that flame to light it, or use one of those lighters you have to ignite gas flames, or a long match (take care! do it from the side not above!). You get a nice blue flame on the liquid, which when you tip it in the pan - I guess suddenly increasing the surface area thus the oxygen - whooshes rather alarmingly and burns itself out after sending flames a foot or so up. Alternatively, and generally less dramatically, pour the spirit on the food in the medium-hot pan and ignite it in there. The benefits in culinary terms are some caramelization of the food's surface, and a residue of the spirit's flavour.
A pork steak lends itself to this method, and whisky, cognac or ideally Calvados all do nicely. Gin is great with seafood, but so more surprisingly is whisky. Steak Diane was a Seventies classic, beef fillet that was finished at the table by flambeing it in brandy. The waiter always had a moustache, and knew that to keep it the head needed to be well away from the flames.
A few rules: you need a steady hand; never try it if you would not be fit to drive in blood-alcohol terms; you need less alcohol than you think; for goodness' sake never try to be clever and contain the flames in a covered pan - think about it; and don't use spirits that don't suit the food. Fun though the technique is, you need to be serious when doing this, otherwise you are literally playing with fire.
Friday, 16 November 2012
One Flame Chinese - Take-out Made in
Chinese food is one of my favourite cuisines, or several of them - there is, after all, not one single style of Chinese cookery. What I have eaten as Chinese food has changed over time and geography. In the Seventies when the first Chinese takeaways opened in my hometown there was a preponderence of really gloopy stuff, like sweet and sour sauce in which a spoon would stand. Today the dishes available from such places are - often - subtler. In the Gorleston of 1975 Peking Duck never featured on the menu.
I was lucky enough to visit mainland China about a dozen times and Taiwan far more often when I worked in industry, so had the opportunity to try authentic Chinese food. On the mainland I ate in Hong Kong, Shenzhen, and Shanghai, the food in the latter - especially in the countryside beyond the city - very different from the first two. Taiwanese food was different again, perhaps for economic reasons then with meatier dishes to the fore, and fantastic seafood (barbecued chilli whelks one of the best things I ever tried).
Travels in the USA meant trying their version, again with its own characteristics. I still don't get the point of fortune cookies.
All of which is a long-winded way of saying that I love food made in a Chinese style. So I make my own attempts at it. One of my favourites, and something that qualifies as austerity cooking and one flame cookery, is fried rice, which was the core of last night's meal, and we would not have been deprived had it been all of the meal.
White rice carefully and lengthily washed in a fine sieve to ensure the grains keep separate later was boiled quickly (boiling water covering it and a half inch more, slow simmer in covered pan for five or six minutes, then taken off the heat and left to steam for another ten minutes). While it steamed finely chopped carrot, red onion, yellow pepper, and a red chilli seeds-and-all were fried gently in rapeseed oil, then the boiled rice was added with about three tablespoons of soy sauce, the mixture stirred together and allowed to fry again very gently for five minutes. Defrosted sweetcorn and peas, and a handful of basics prawns were thrown in, and two brutally crushed garlic cloves to max their impact. A shake of 5-Spice powder completed the flavour enhancement.
I did enough for six, and the three of us ate it. Which when you think about the millions who have to survive on a bowl or two of plain boiled rice a day gives pause for thought.
Another no-flame dish complemented this, a way of using a bit of leftover (uncooked) white cabbage - the Chinese love their brassicas. The thick stalky bits were removed, leaves rolled together like a cigar and chopped very finely, then with a few spoons of boiling water and another of soy added to their bowl along with another smashed garlic clove it was cling-filmed and cooked on medium-high in the microwave for a couple of minutes or so to steam it. Virtuous and delicious.
I did enough for six, and the three of us ate it. Which when you think about the millions who have to survive on a bowl or two of plain boiled rice a day gives pause for thought.
Another no-flame dish complemented this, a way of using a bit of leftover (uncooked) white cabbage - the Chinese love their brassicas. The thick stalky bits were removed, leaves rolled together like a cigar and chopped very finely, then with a few spoons of boiling water and another of soy added to their bowl along with another smashed garlic clove it was cling-filmed and cooked on medium-high in the microwave for a couple of minutes or so to steam it. Virtuous and delicious.
Labels:
chilli,
Chinese food,
fortune cookies,
fried rice,
garlic,
Gorleston,
homemade Chinese,
Hong Kong,
one flame,
one flame cookery,
one flame cooking,
rice,
Shanghai,
Shenzhen,
soy sauce,
steamed cabbage,
Taiwan,
whelks
Thursday, 15 November 2012
The Juice on Jus - Maxing One Flame Flavour
An aspect of the post yesterday about cooking a steak or a lamb chop set me to thinking about how much flavour can be won or lost after the meat has been lifted from the pan. Unless you have cooked it too long you are likely to have some of the juices glistening in the skillet in front of you, and maybe some scraps adhering to the surface where the flesh caught briefly. The austerity cook, or any decent cook really, wants to make the most of these, and with just a tiny effort you can capture them in a simple sauce to accompany the meat. My apologies to anyone for whom this is second nature.
The first method is deglazing: add a good dash of alcohol to the hot pan, scrape the bits up and stir in the juices, then reduce for a second and pour over the chop. Wine is ideal, white or red, if you have some on the go, or the dregs of a bottle saved with a Vacuvin. Cider is good, and suits say thin pork escalopes done this way. From reviewing I have loads of brandies and rums that I find useful for this, though only a small amount is needed, the flavour being powerful - and take care you don't inadvertently flambe yourself. Best of all is dry vermouth with the bonus of herby notes. The resulting liquid can be thickened with butter, a dab of French mustard, a slurp of ketchup - tomato or mushroom - or a slurp of cream (not creme fraiche for me). If no suitable alcohol is to hand water's ok, but you gain no taste.
Alternatively a pat of butter or some cream will mix with the juices, but be conservative as otherwise you'll not taste anything else, and here the pan must not be too hot or you'll waste juice and all.
It doesn't have to be just meat. During a press trip on Islay chef Francois Bernier seered locally dived scallops in a dry pan, then used Bunnahabhain whisky to stretch the juices, and in that case to flambe the scallops, with if memory serves a spoon of butter to bind the results together. This was one of the best things I have ever eaten, and with all due respect to Francois, so simple. He, by the way, was using a single Calor Gas burner to cook at the distillery.
The first method is deglazing: add a good dash of alcohol to the hot pan, scrape the bits up and stir in the juices, then reduce for a second and pour over the chop. Wine is ideal, white or red, if you have some on the go, or the dregs of a bottle saved with a Vacuvin. Cider is good, and suits say thin pork escalopes done this way. From reviewing I have loads of brandies and rums that I find useful for this, though only a small amount is needed, the flavour being powerful - and take care you don't inadvertently flambe yourself. Best of all is dry vermouth with the bonus of herby notes. The resulting liquid can be thickened with butter, a dab of French mustard, a slurp of ketchup - tomato or mushroom - or a slurp of cream (not creme fraiche for me). If no suitable alcohol is to hand water's ok, but you gain no taste.
Bunnahabhain Distillery |
It doesn't have to be just meat. During a press trip on Islay chef Francois Bernier seered locally dived scallops in a dry pan, then used Bunnahabhain whisky to stretch the juices, and in that case to flambe the scallops, with if memory serves a spoon of butter to bind the results together. This was one of the best things I have ever eaten, and with all due respect to Francois, so simple. He, by the way, was using a single Calor Gas burner to cook at the distillery.
Labels:
brandy,
Bunnahabhain,
calor gas,
cider,
deglazing,
distillery,
escalope,
Francois Bernier,
Islay,
lamb chop,
mushroom ketchup,
one flame,
pork,
rum,
steak,
vacuvin,
vermouth,
whisky,
wine
Tuesday, 13 November 2012
Starter, Side, or Supper? (and Inadvertent One Flame Cookery)
I had some kale from our allotment to use yesterday, so fell back on something mentioned on a previous post - remove the stems, wash (very carefully in salted water, it often harbours scale insects and the occasional tiny slug, though supermarket stuff almost certainly just needs a quick rinse) and steam the leaves, then cut them fine and add a boiled egg or two, a tin of anchovies and their oil, some crushed garlic, and a good grating of parmesan. All this chopped together and mixed up is put still warm on hot buttered toast. The flavours are not exactly subtle, but on a damp November evening robust is good.
When I was planning our evening meal I had this in mind, and tried to think of how to turn it from what is a good starter or maybe a side dish, into a main course. Potatoes, rice or pasta would be inappropriate. Another veg in it would be too much, even finely diced onion. A vegetable with it seems weird. The only thing that tempted me was adding a fried mushroom or two (with hindsight perhaps steaming one or two briefly would be better), but even that didn't get my vote. The only way I can think of (any ideas gratefully received) to make this a main course would be to do lots of it, but good though it is...
So some things are perhaps not meant to be a full supper, or dinner, or tea, depending on how you style your main meal. Pity, as it is cheap, tasty, nutritious, and just takes ten minutes to knock up. I ended up making a small amount of spaghetti with meat balls (three sausages to use up) and mushrooms and a simple tomato sauce to follow it.
Though it was not what I had in mind when actually making it, if you boil the egg first this is another one flame cooking thing (provided you have a toaster, though good crunchy bread would be equally good), and a very healthy one too. And there is a minimum of washing up, always a plus.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)