Due to Overwhelming Demand

A flood of comment, singular, asking for the recipe for the brisket mentioned in the previous post. As with so much of what I cook it's more method than measurements.

First have one bloody big piece of brisket, ours was just shy of 6lb, ready at room temperature. If I had been confident of my butcher locating flat-rib I'd have used that in place of brisket. Prepare a dry rub with a nice finely ground blend of spices, my own preference the other night being a tsp of peppercorns, a tbsp of coriander seeds,  two tbsp of cumin seeds, two whole star anise (anises?), a tsp of sea salt, three cloves and a tsp of piment de Jamaique as we say in Preston, or allspice if you prefer, and a tbsp of palm sugar. Rub this all over the beef as erotically as possible in the circumstances.

In a chicken brick or similar closed pot big enough (derr) to take the joint put some slices of carrot and onion in the bottom to keep the meet raised slightly, plus a few cloves of garlic. Pour in so as not to wash the meat clean of dry rub (derr again) enough boiling water to touch the bottom of the brisket, put the lid on and put into the oven preheated to about 180C, then immediately turn the temperature down to 120C and leave for about eight hours - it could actually have stood another two at least.

The end result is, or should be, easy to pull apart, the crust beautifully blackened by the spices rather than the heat.

Drain the excess juices off every two or three hours, but leave enough in to maintain the steaming-roast effect. After resting the meat for at least 25 minutes serve pulled into shreds with BBQ sauce or if you have time a reduction (how trendy) of the juices tweaked to your taste.

To be eaten in wraps or flat-breads with sauce, fried onions, dill pickles, red cabbage, friends and beer. Although as Malcolm Bradbury so astutely pointed out eating people is wrong.

One Flame Cooking Super Rapido

Last night a combination of poorly child and electrical work meant I couldn't get to the kitchen till late, or late for us. Something rapid was thus required, and thanks to the rich stock from slow cooking a flat-rib of beef this was no prob. Stock skimmed of fat was heated through in a pan to which I added a drained tin of bamboo shoots, the few remaining bits of beef cut small, and two sheets of noodles (from a pack bought ages ago in local Chinese supermarket - bargain). Flavoured with soy sauce and five-spice powder and a brutally crushed garlic clove to give it a bit of depth it was ready in five minutes.

As the stock was rich and delicious so was the soup, which in a way was posh pot-noodle. If I'd had any in the freezer I'd have added sweetcorn for more fibre, but hadn't so didn't. Don't care, it was still really good.

On Markets and Kicking Myself

Doing a piece for Lancashire Life (with a side one for Bass Guitar Magazine - the life of a freelancer) I was in Blackburn today. We lived in nearby Rishton for a few years, the only place I ever regret living. Blackburn has come up in the world since then, its local authority showing the oomph sadly lacking in my home city of Preston. Maybe Rishton has changed, I hope so.

One very clear sign of progress is the market, now beneath a huge mall, and open six days a week. It was always good for food, and now looks better. Markets can be a boon to bargain hunters, or just those seeking variety not found in many supermarkets. I picked up a huge ham hock for £2.60, which will be used on Saturday in a traditional Lancashire favourite - pea soup made with a packet of dried peas (if I can find them tomorrow). It's a one-pot dish, the lengthily soaked peas added to a big pot in which finely chopped onion has been sweated, hock buried among them, then just water added, the lot simmered gently on the stove-top for a couple of hours or more. With buttered bread to dip in the finished article and the meat broken up and returned to the pan it is a rib-sticking meal well worth the inevitable percussive repercussions later.

That butcher's stall also had bacon ribs, which are just as good in the same role, though the ribs cooked in the soup tend to be eaten separately. Something about them didn't grab me, though.

In my Norfolk childhood I remember my father (cooking runs in the family, my WWI-veteran grandfather did quite a bit too) asking a local butcher for bacon ribs, to be met with a blank stare. They thought he was after bacon scraps and bones for stock, so gave him a pile of them for free, which I don't think went to waste.

As I walked around the market I kicked myself for not shopping at such places more often. I was expecting a box of Aberdeen Angus beef today (now in fridge and freezer), otherwise I'd have bought some of the beef flatrib I saw, another bargain. Next time for sure - steamed slowly in the oven for several hours then finished with a BBQ glaze at a higher temperature. Another cut that fits the rule - long cooking means cheap and delicious.