Happy meals - Gordon Ramsay’s pork with peppers

 

There are few things my husband enjoys more than a monster pork chop. And these pork chops, from Swaledale Butchers, were indeed monsters. The layer of fat was truly obscene; these were the Marlon Brando at-the-end-of-his-life of pigs. But the meat itself was incredibly tasty and succulent.

One of our favourite ways to eat pork chops is a Gordon Ramsay recipe, which he published in his Complete Cookery Course. It is also available online - here. It's incredibly simple - peppers and red onion cooked low and slow, olive oil, a splash of vinegar, a pinch of sugar. The sweet and sour veg cut through the meat without overpowering or overwhelming the porcine star of the show. As a carb monster, it is rare that I eat a dish which solely consists of meat and veg but it is really all you need here. Although if someone were to offer me some crusty bread for mopping, I'd never turn it down.

Foodie abroad: a return to Lake Road Kitchen

I have a quote on the tip of my tongue about never going back but I’ve Googled it and apparently Never Go Back is the name of a Jack Reacher film. I don’t think I’ve seen it and it certainly doesn’t sound like the kind of thing I’d usually quote. Anyway. I’ve been musing a bit about nostalgia versus novelty recently. I often wonder if I’m too much governed by the former (familiarity, safety) versus the latter (the new, the unknown) and whether that is a good or bad thing. It’s especially pertinent at the moment; like many of us, I find myself still living in a state of heightened anxiety after the events of the past year and my instinct is to grope for comfort blankets when perhaps what I need is a hefty kick up the arse.

A long winded (and navel gazing) way of saying we found ourselves in the Lakes for a few days as my parents invited us to share their holiday apartment and , to say thank you, we wanted to take them out for dinner. Should we revisit an old favourite or go somewhere new? We opted to return to Lake Road Kitchen, a restaurant we visited and loved back in (shockingly) 2017. We felt fairly certain that we would have a good meal - the lamb that we had five years ago remains, probably, the best I have ever eaten - but there was a slight sense of trepidation that it wouldn’t quite live up to our memories.

Reader, if we loved it in 2017 we were blown away by it in 2021 and we are already plotting when we can return (it will not be another five years). What an absolute gem of a place. We had a twelve course tasting menu and not a dud note - although the rest of the party felt a beef and onion broth was not quite up to the standard of the rest (I rather enjoyed it). While the focus remains on local Cumbrian produce, I definitely felt that the chef’s sphere of influences had widened which made for some seriously impressive, and sometimes surprising, taste combinations. Alongside an absolutely flawless handling of ingredients, there was so much to love that I don’t know what to highlight.

I could wax lyrical about pretty much every course and, interestingly, I think that all four of us had a different favourite. For me, ever a sweet tooth, I adored the dessert end of the menu and am tempted to say that a Brillat-Savarin baked cheesecake with raspberry and liquorice jam and raspberry sorbet was the pinnacle. The cheesecake was so light in texture, not claggy as baked cheesecakes have a tendency to be, and it was almost savoury to taste which worked incredibly well with the sour sweet fruit. Even though I was reaching capacity by the time it was served, the moment it was finished I wanted to eat it again. 

But if the menu ended with a bang, then it has to be said it started on one too with a number of “snack” courses including the crunchiest fried chicken in the history of the world and D’s personal favourite - a deep fried prawn toast with king prawn, prawn mousse and garlic butter. This occupied the space somewhere between a prawn toast and a Kiev, which might sound odd but totally worked. D spent most of the remainder of the evening trying (unsuccessfully) to persuade the waitress to bring him another one.

Also, it would be remiss of me not to mention the main course pork - slow cooked then finished on the barbecue and served with the most amazing wild garlic and caper sauce. Plates may have been licked and bones were certainly gnawed by the gentleman in the party. This is a kitchen that knows how to handle meat.

When you pick an old favourite over something new, there is always a risk of missing out but, to be honest, I can’t envisage any scenario where we missed out here. I cannot praise Lake Road Kitchen enough, and my sentiments were echoed by the whole party. We will be back there soon and if ever you, gentle Reader, should find yourself in the vicinity of Ambleside then I urge you to try and nab a table. 

Lake Road Kitchen

Lake Road

Ambleside 

Cumbria 

LA22 0AD

Easter Sunday lunch - 2019

For the second year in a row, D and I decided to push the boat out a bit for Easter Sunday lunch.  Although we did not eat it at lunchtime.  And we are neither of us practicing Christians (although I still maintain that my Catholicism is lapsed rather than totally extinct.)

Last year, we had duck.  This year, we again blew raspberries in the face of tradition (which demands that one serves lamb on Easter Sunday) and had pork.  Roast belly pork.  Twice cooked.

But first, not so much as a starter as an amuse.  An idea that we blatantly nicked borrowed from the specials board of The Reliance last week.  Little Jersey Royals, parboiled and then tossed in oil and roasted, split and topped with sour cream and caviar (not the real stuff, I hasten to add).  Reader, this is such a simple idea but it is SO effective and would make a marvellous canape, especially during Jersey Royal season.

Onto the pork, and my husband takes roasting belly pork very seriously.  This behemoth of a joint was slow cooked, pressed and then finished under the grill per the method that I've described here.

I, meanwhile, was in charge of side dishes, and I made lightly pickled rhubarb and stem ginger - not quite a chutney - based on Diana Henry's recipe here.  It was absolutely delicious with the rich meat.  She served it with a pork loin that was flavoured with caraway and juniper - I knew that wouldn't fly with the Pig Master, so decided to introduce caraway, at least, into the meal by sauteeing little cubes of potato with caraway seeds until crispy and golden.  Finally, we needed something green and so I made a delicious tangle of kale, blanched and then cooked together with onion, bacon and cream and flavoured with bags of black pepper and nutmeg.  To bring everything together, the splendid pork gravy.  And yes, we did serve the gravy in a miniature gravy boat.  The first rule of Masterchef Presenation is that the sauce should always be on the side.

Having devoured that, we were quite pleased that we had kept the starter light because still to come was dessert and this was another very rich dish, for all that I kept the portion sizes small.  Chocolate ganache, salted caramel sauce and candied salted peanuts.  I already had a pretty good idea of what I wanted to do but used this recipe as a rough guideline.  It tasted like a very posh Snickers which is a Good Thing.

It wasn't till after we had finished that we realised that not only had the starter been a blatant rip off tribute to The Reliance, but the other two dishes were also based on things that we have eaten there in the recent past.  Which tells you that a) we love The Reliance and if you are ever in Leeds, you should go and b) eating out is an important source of culinary inspiration and therefore is entirely justified in all circumstances. 

Happy Easter one and all!

MPM: 24th September 2018

Greetings chickadees and I think it is safe to say that summer is well and truly over after a weekend which saw us a) light our fire every night b) turn the heating on and c) get pounded by hailstones.  Suits me just fine - I am not a big fan of the hot weather although I have no intention of giving up the salads that have characterised my lunches for the past couple of months.  I love salad and don't see that it should be confined to when the weather is sunny.

I've been back on track for nearly a whole week now (four and a half days counts as nearly seven, doesn't it?) and although it has had its tricky moments, altogether it is going pretty well.  It helps, I think, that we were SO over indulgent last weekend, my body was definitely ready to embrace a simpler, leaner diet.  But, as I said in my last post and said to my WW coach at the weigh in, I will never be the type of person to count, or even attempt to count, on holiday.  Food and drink are two of life's very great pleasures.

Talking of great pleasures, and another sign that winter is on its way - the new series of Strictly Come Dancing started on Saturday night which I thoroughly enjoyed.  Saturday nights from now will definitely have to feature a special sort of supper to honour the occasion.  Actually, this Saturday's supper was very special indeed - inspired by a photo on Bundobust's Instagram feed, I contrived a saag paneer pizza.  If two of your favourite foods are saag paneer and pizza, this is a dish not to be missed.  I may well post the recipe at some point.

Anyway, on to this week.  I am supposed to be going out on Friday, so it is blank for now, but may try and wriggle out of it for various reasons, not least that it would be nice to have two straight weeks of tracking under my belt as we go into October AKA D's 50th Birthday Month.  Elsewhere:

Monday: Tuna and onion (tonno e cipolla) pizza - we have pizza dough leftover from Saturday night and, well, it would be rude not to.

Tuesday:  Mussel paella

Wednesday:  Vietnamese braised pork with vegetable egg fried rice

Thursday: Chicken breast stuffed with goats' cheese

Saturday:  Lobster truffled macaroni cheese - a dish inspired by our recent trip to the Star Inn the Harbour.

Sunday:  A freezer dive - beef and fennel stew with mashed potatoes.

Have a fabulous week all!

MPM: 20th August 2018

I meant to do this first thing this morning and then got distracted by, ugh, work.  And I meant to introduce the post by spending a good five minutes moaning about how TIRED I am but, actually, I might save that for tomorrow and just concentrate on meal planning today. 

This week, we have my parents coming for dinner on Saturday, which if D has his way will mean a multi-course, thousand point extravaganza.  I am wondering if everyone would settle for a couple of takeaway pizzas and a few hands of cards.  Other than that, the week is a quiet one which is fine by me.

Monday: Spiced tomato and lentil soup

Tuesday:  Thai spiced turkey patties with rice noodle salad

Wednesday: Crispy lemon sole with brown shrimp butter and cucumber salad

Thursday:  Pork with mushrooms in creamy tarragon sauce, mash

Friday:  Chilli con carne

Sunday:  Trout with horseradish

MPM: 12th March 2018

Happy Monday campers!  Actually, I'm writing this on Friday afternoon so the weekend is still to come.  I hope that it was a good one.  We have plans for a trip into town for brunch and books, the very nicest sort of day.  Although, really, I need to stop buying books.  I've got a tottering TBR (to be read) pile that I really should tackle before adding still more to it.  But I just can't resist - nothing makes me giddier than the prospect of a browse around a bookshop.  Except, possibly, a browse around a lipstick counter.

We digress.  For today, it is Monday, and that means meal planning (although, actually, we did that on Thursday so the meal plan was contrived on Thursday, written on Friday and only published on Monday.  Mind blowing.)

This week, we fast Monday and Thursday - and after a couple of poor weeks we are determined to get two good days under our belts.  On Friday, we are going for dinner at that behemoth of the Harrogate food scene, Norse.  Looking forward to that one.  Elsewhere:

Tuesday: a four cheese risotto.  Yep, that's right - risotto made with FOUR different cheeses.  The recipe is from The Silver Spoon.  I am looking forward to sinking into a cheesy coma afterwards.

Wednesday:  D has selected bangers and mash - there's very much a comfort food theme emerging here, isn't there?

Saturday: a recipe from "Simple" by the wonderful Diana Henry. Devilled mackerel with cucumber and watercress yoghurt.

Sunday:  roast pork.  Tomorrow, we embark upon a vegetarian week so I have promised D a good chunk of meat to see him off and he has challenged me to make better crackling than my mother, who cooked roast pork for us a couple of weeks ago.  It's not something I cook very often, but I will do my best.

MPM: 19th February 2018

Amazing meal at Joro last week (write-up to follow shortly). Less than amazing was my digestive system's reaction to it. Yes, I am having (ahem) ishoos at the moment with what feels like food in general (and, in particular, food) which I'm fairly convinced are linked to the fact that I had a bit of said digestive system lopped out last summer. It appears to be rather pissed off with me and is exacting revenge. I'm fighting back by keeping a detailed food diary complete with colour coded (ahem squared) movement monitoring which, at some point, I may need to go and wave at the doctor. Although I'm terrified that they'll make me FODMAP, or some such thing. Which would not be in keeping with my (shamelessly nicked) life philosophy of everything in moderation, including moderation.

Anyway, the point is that the meal plan unravelled slightly towards the end of last week to accommodate my delicate little self. Although we were back on track by Sunday for a fiendishly good fish finger sarnie. I reckon that I've nearly nailed ciabatta rolls which are the perfect vehicle for any sort of sandwich that has the potential to be messy: robust yet airy with an excellent flavour.

New week, new start and I've stuck to a fast day today (I suppose it's only half six, there's time for it all to go wrong) will hopefully be able to stick, more or less, to the planned meals for the week without needing to resort to gruel.

Monday: fast day - soup

Tuesday: freezer dived turkey curry with rice and cucumber raita. And maybe a flatbread if I can be roused to such dizzy heights.

Wednesday: fast day - soup (and a trip to the cinema to see The Black Panther in an attempt to distract from the hunger pangs)

Thursday: prosciutto capalleti, garlic bread, some sort of salad

Friday: as part of our ongoing quest to cook our books, I'm doing a couple of dishes from Tim Anderson's "Nanban". I think that I've selected Tonkatsu, which is the Japanese equivalent of schnitzel, with sushi rice and mushrooms with spicy miso butter. I'm not entirely sure that it would be considered at all authentic to both things together, but the idea worked in my head, so we'll give it a go.

Saturday: D has requested burgers, so I'll be doing ciabatta rolls take 3 and will leave the filling of them to him.

Sunday: we had a pot of cream in the fridge that needed using up, so I threw together a pommes dauphinois last week and whacked it in the freezer ready for next Sunday lunch. Such a rich dish needs very little else, so probably a small amount of roast meat and something no-nonsenseley green.

Recipe corner: Vietnamese style braised pork with vegetable fried rice

Believe me when I say that you have to make this dish.  I mean, I know that I probably say that about all of them but this one is an absolute must cook.

In the last few years, D and I have made an effort to make more Sunday roasts.  I love a Sunday roast, I really do, but it is one of those things that I didn’t make myself until I was well into my twenties.  And there is no question that it can be a bit of a faff; the individual processes may be easy, but timing everything to be ready together is less so and the whole faffiness is exacerbated when you are working with a tiny kitchen and a distinct lack of dishwasher.   Nevertheless, it is a proud British tradition and one that we have tried to embrace at least a couple of times a month.

What is also a proud British tradition (at least, it certainly was for my grandparents and probably my parents too) is “leftovers day” when the remainder of the joint is served up for supper in cunning disguise. I love leftovers day as much, if not more, than I love the roast.  Sometimes, I’ll just opt for cold meat with a side dish, or even sandwiches (roast beef and horseradish sandwiches are a thing of beauty and joy forever) but I have been trying to get a bit more clever.  That is where this recipe comes in.

In the top five countdown of roasting joints, pork has always scored fairly low for us – there is nothing wrong with pork but it’s not a favourite.  D has now declared that pork must move higher up the rotation of roasts so that we can make this leftovers dish on a regular basis.  And who am I to deny him.

We spied this recipe on the Guardian site (an excellent resource for foodies – so many interesting recipes to browse through) where the author in turn adapted it from a recipe book, and so the recipe Chinese whispers go on.  I reduced it down to two portions (while upping the meat quotient slightly) and served with a lovely stir fried veg and egg rice, which I am expect is entirely non Vietnamese but was just what I fancied and worked terribly well. 

Ingredients

200g cold roast pork, chopped into chunks

Tsp. black peppercorns

Tsp. coarse salt

Tsp. soft brown sugar

2 cloves of garlic

Shallot, finely chopped

Tbsp. fish sauce

2 tsp. soft brown sugar

100ml boiling water

100ml reduced fat coconut milk

90g basmati rice

Selection of stir fry veg (I used spring onions, baby corn and sugar snap peas)

Clove of garlic, crushed

Tbsp vegetable oil
2 eggs

Pinch of chilli flakes

Splash of fish sauce

Serves 2, 14 Smart Points (WW Flex) per portion

In a pestle and mortar, bash together the peppercorns, salt, one teaspoon of the sugar and the garlic until it forms a murky looking paste.   Stir this, along with the shallot, through the pork and set aside while you make the caramel. 

In a heavy bottomed saucepan, place the remaining two teaspoons of sugar over a low heat.  Resist the urge to stir but swirl the pan from time to time to ensure that it is melting evenly.  Meanwhile, stick the kettle on to boil, weigh your rice into the bottom of a steamer pan and slice your veg to suit.  Keep half an eye on the sugar as it will go from caramel to sticky, burnt mess very quickly.

Once the caramel is golden brown and liquid, add the boiling water.  It will bubble up, so exercise a degree of caution.  Allow to bubble frantically for a couple of minutes and then add the coconut milk.  Stir briskly to combine and then throw in the pork and combine everything well.  Reduce

the heat as low as it will go and simmer for around ten minutes.

Cover the rice in water, add a pinch of salt and bring to the boil.  Once it is boiling, turn the heat down and put the veg, in a steamer basket, over the boiling water.  Cover.

After five minutes, remove the vegetables.  Re-cover the rice and turn the heat off.  Allow it to steam for a further five or so minutes until cooked through. 

Heat the oil in a wok or large pan and stir fry the lightly steamed vegetables.  After a couple of minutes, stir through the crushed garlic and cook a little more until the garlic smell has lost its raw edge.  While these are cooking, lightly beat your egg with seasoning and chilli flakes.

Once the veg are beginning to soften but still retain some bite, you can stir through the rice.  Then, make a well in the centre and pour in the egg.  Once it has started to lightly set, mix through the rest of the ingredients.  Add a splash of fish sauce and check the seasoning. 

Check the seasoning of the pork as well – you may need to add more sugar or more fish sauce to get the sweet / salt balance just to your liking (although I found that these measurements worked perfectly).

Serve, and thank goodness for roast dinners and leftovers.

Slow cooker recipe corner: "Pulled” pig cheeks with sherry, saffron and olives

There are certain dishes that are never going to be particularly photogenic.  And, as readers of this blog know, I have a way of making even the photogenic ones look like piles of pallid mush.  So rather than attempt to photograph pulled pork, here is a photograph of a pig ornament.  And my cat. 

So a few weeks ago, a lovely man called Chris emailed me and asked me if I’d like some meat and some alcohol.  I attempted to be cool but my reaction was probably more along the lines of SQUEEEEEEEEEEE.  Chris, bless him, didn’t seem fazed by the over enthusiasm and duly sent along some pig cheeks and a bottle of Fino sherry.  Chris, you see, works for a company called Grey’s Fine Foods.

I’ll fully admit, not a site that was on my radar at all which is extremely sad because I have been missing out on some real treats.  They specialise in all things Spanish – and the charcuterie selection, in particular, is a thing of beauty and absolute joy forever.  Plus it is a Yorkshire based company and I love to bang the drum for all things Yorkshire.  So do, please, go along and have a little look.  Several of my family members may well be getting Spanish foodie treats for Christmas.

We’ve cooked with pig cheeks before but these were a class apart – thick, a nice marbling of fat (obviously very jowly pigs) and full of deep, almost gamey flavour.  After an overnight sojourn in the slow cooker they fell apart as the prod of a fork.  Perfect for a slightly Spanish twist on pulled pork.

I served the below in a boccadillo – which is basically a Spanish sandwich, traditionally served in a sub-type roll.  I made a delicious loaf of rustic Spanish bread from this Hairy Bikers recipe and then smeared it with tomato and aioli and stacked up the warm pork and thin, crispy slices of chorizo.  It was all kinds of messy wonderful.  But this recipe would also be great with mashed potato, or patatas bravas, or a Spanish-ey mac and cheese or (and this has only just occurred to me) a veggie paella-type rice thing. 

One pack of cheeks, at £16.50 made six extremely generous portions.  But obviously this recipe could be scaled up or down to suit.

Ingredients

10-12 (about 1.5 kg) pig cheeks

Flour, for dusting

Tbsp. olive oil

200ml Fino sherry

Hefty pinch of saffron

Tsp. smoked paprika

½ tsp. cayenne pepper

Tbsp. tomato puree

2 onions, roughly quartered

2 carrots, roughly quartered

2 sticks of celery, roughly quartered

4-5 fat garlic cloves (no need to peel)

Several sprigs of fresh thyme

100ml chicken stock

Handful of black olives, chopped

Tbsp. balsamic vinegar

Serves 6, 10 pro points per portion

Measure out your sherry and add the saffron to infuse.

In the bottom of your slow cooker (or in a casserole dish if making in the oven), make a trivet of the roughly chopped vegetables and the fresh thyme.

Heat the oil in a heavy bottomed pan.  Dust the cheeks with flour and a good whack of salt and pepper.  Then cook in the oil for a couple of minutes on each side until they have started to colour.  You may need to do this in batches, depending on the size of your pan.  As they are browned off, transfer them to the slow cooker (or casserole dish).

Turn the heat down and pour the saffron-coloured sherry into the pan to deglaze, using a wooden spoon to make sure you get up all the tasty, crusty bits.  Add the paprika, cayenne, and tomato puree and bubble together for about five minutes to reduce.  Now pour in the chicken stock, and again reduce slightly before transferring to the slow cooker.  Cook, on a low heat, for at least 8 hours – overnight is fine (probably about 120-150 if doing in the oven).

When the cheeks are cooked and cooled, remove from the dish with a slotted spoon and shred.  They should be tender as anything at this stage.  Strain the remaining juices through a sieve over the shredded pork, making sure to squish all the vegetables to get every drop of flavour.

Stir through the balsamic vinegar and the chopped olives, and adjust the seasoning as desired.

Recipe corner: North Carolina style pulled pork

Picture taken from theodysseyonline.com

I don't really know what North Carolina style means.

Let me rephrase that - clearly it means that it originates from a particular state of America.  I just don't know what distinguishes North Carolina style from, say, South Carolina style, or Texas style or...Louisiana style (mines intimate knowledge of Triple D episodes for appropriate state names).

What I do know is that this recipe, from a recent Waitrose "Kitchen" magazine, is incredibly tasty.  The rich pork cut with the sour heat of the "mop" is just sublime.  We had it, shredded and stuffed into bread buns on Sunday evening and enjoyed it so much that we ate the exact same thing on Monday.  We both noted that the Monday version was even better than the original - clearly, a day in the fridge "chilling" (ha ha) with the mop enhanced the flavours still further.

Add slaw to the buns if you so wish.  Make potato salad as a side dish, or mac and cheese (I'm going to try this combo next) or the fabulous slow cooked beans that I will be posting next.  Just make sure you get it made.

Note that the recipe suggests dry brining the pork overnight.  We didn't actually do this - the pork only got a couple of hours in the end, but I'll definitely be doing it for longer next time in the hope that it gets even better.

Ingredients

1.2kg pork shoulder (with skin)
Tbsp salt
1/2 tbsp ground black pepper

150ml cider vinegar
2 tsp soft brown sugar
1/2 tsp cayenne pepper
1/2 tsp chilli flakes
1/2 tsp Tabasco sauce
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp black pepper

Serves 6, 12 pro points per portion

Rub the pork with the salt and pepper, cover with foil and leave to chill - overnight if possible, if not, a couple of hours will do.

Preheat the oven to 160.  Place the pork in a roasting tin and roast for two hours, still covered in the foil tent.  After the two hours is up, uncover, baste with the juices then tuck it back up and roast for a further two hours.

At some point during the pork's long sojourn in the oven, you can make the mop.  Just place all the ingredients in a saucepan over a low heat and warm through until the sugar has melted.

At the end of the second stretch of two hours, uncover the pork and turn your oven up to its highest temperature.  Cook the pork for a further ten minutes during which time the skin should crisp up.  Remove from the oven.  Take off the skin and replace it, on a baking tray, for a further ten minutes or so to continue drying out.  Meanwhile, leave the pork itself to rest for half an hour or so.

Now for the pulling part - just take two forks and shred the beautiful tender meat, incorporating any cooking juices as you do so.  Then pour over the mop and stir through.  Break your crackling into shards and strew over the top.  Salivate.  A lot.

Recipe corner: Sticky pork belly with noodles

Back in November I talked about how to cook perfect pork belly which we tend to serve simply with mashed potato and serious gravy.  This recipe is what we like to do with the leftovers.  Indeed, we always make sure that we buy a bigger piece than we need to ensure that we can cook this.  It is seriously delicious.

 

The original recipe started with raw pork which, being more permeable than cooked, would probably absorb the marinade slightly better, but it works fine with the cooked meat and the marinade ends up giving the pork a lovely, sticky coating (hence the title I suppose!).  The recipe below assumes that you have roasted the pork but not done the final, skin crisping, stage.

 

 

 

Ingredients

 

210g cooked pork belly, cut into squares

 

4 cardamom pods

2 tbsp sweet soy sauce

2 tbsp water

1/2 orange rind, grated, and juice

1/2 tsp ground coriander

2 tsp Chinese five spice

1/2 tsp dried chilli flakes

salt and pepper

 

2 nests of medium egg noodles

2 tsp sunflower oil

2 heads of pak choi, sliced

1 red pepper, sliced

Small handful of fresh coriander, chopped

Heaped tsp grated ginger

2 fat cloves of garlic, crushed

Red chilli pepper, seeded and chopped

Tbsp sesame oil

 

Serves 2, 17 pro points per portion

 

Lightly crush the cardamom pods and combine with the other marinade ingredients.  Add the pork to the marinade, cover and leave to soak up the flavour.  If I remember I do this 24 hours beforehand.  If not then a couple of hours will be fine.

 

When it is time to rock and roll, put the noodles on to cook in boiling salted water according to the packet instructions.

 

Heat a non stick frying pan over a medium heat.  Place the pork belly pieces in the pan, pouring over any remaining marinade and cook gently for 5 or 6 minutes until the sauce reduces and stickily coats the meat.

 

Put the sunflower oil in a larger frying pan or a wok and add the garlic, ginger and chilli and then turn the heat on - allowing them to heat up in the oil will help stop them burning.  When the oil is hot add the pepper and the white, crispy ends of the pak choi.  When these have started to soften add the green leaves and the coriander and allow to wilt in the heat, before adding the noodles and the sesame oil.

 

Serve the noodles topped with the sticky pork belly, garnishing with more chilli and coriander if you wish.

How to cook perfect pork belly

Pork belly is a very serious business.  When cooked properly, I think it is one of the tastiest cuts of meats there is.  I love the contrast of the tender meat, the gently wibbling fat and the crispy, salty skin.  Given that it is very, very pointy (14 points or 513 calories for 100g raw weight) it can only be an occasional treat which means that when I do have it, it has to be done right.  It is for this reason that I have stopped ordering it in restaurants because too many people do it wrong and you end up with something pale and flabby and deeply unappealing.

So here is your guide to perfectly cooked pork belly, with a luscious gravy that will probably cause you to lick the pattern off your best china.  As I said this is a serious business - you will need to start it at least one day before you intend to eat it, subjecting yourself to a whole world of denial induced pain as the house starts to smell like hog roast - but it is worth it, I promise you. When it comes to such matters I cannot tell a lie.

So, the day before you intend to feast.  Preheat your oven to 170 degrees and remove your slab of pig from the fridge to bring it up to room temperature.  Take a large roasting tin and into it place a couple of cooking apples, quartered and cored, two or three onions, peeled and halved, three or four whole, unpeeled cloves of garlic and some sprigs of thyme (you could also add other herbs at this point - some sage leaves perhaps, or some lemon thyme for a hint of citrus zing).  Add a good splash (about 50mls) of dry cider and some salt and pepper.  This is the trivet on which you will rest the pork while it roasts.


Trivet!

Take the pork and, using a very sharp knife, score the skin and massage in about a tablespoon of oil before sprinkling liberally with good sea salt.  Now lay it atop your herby trivet, cover the whole roasting tray with tin foil and place in the oven for 90 minutes.  After this time, remove it, baste with the cidery juices and return to the oven, still within its foil tent for a 60 minutes, then turn the oven off altogether and let it sit for a further 30 minutes.

Take the pork out of the oven, transfer it to a large dish and allow it to cool completely. 

Once it is cool, it is time to press the meat.  This will compress the fat into an even, unctuous layer.  Wrap it in greaseproof paper and sit it skin side up.  Put a second large dish over the top and weigh it down - tins of beans are ideal for this.  It needs to be pressed for at least 12 hours, preferably longer.

You will also want to transfer all the delicious remains of your fruit, veg and herb trivet into a saucepan, as this will form the basis of your gravy.  Anything that has really burnt on to the roasting dish leave to the hands of the washer upper and don't try too hard to scrape it off as it will add a bitter, acrid note to the sauce

One day, this will be gravy.  Honest.

After pressing, your pork should look something like this:

You can now cut it into portions.  You could try and eat the whole thing yourself but it would probably make you sick.  Or fat.  Or both.

Prior to serving you need to do a final cook to get the top seriously crispy and the meat warmed through.  Turn the oven on to a low heat - about 150 degrees, and heat an oven proof pan on the hob.  Place the meat in, skin side down and cook for about twenty minutes before transferring to the oven for a final ten minutes.  You can also finish your gravy while the meat is cooking - to the scrapings from the roasting tray add 250mls of cider and another 250mls of chicken stock.  Reduce briskly by about two thirds and then pass through a sieve.  Next time we make this we intend to experiment with a beure manie (butter and flour paste) to thicken it slightly.

If you go in for very cheffy presentation, you can use chef rings to cut through the meat after its first pressing to end up with an elegant cylinder of meat.  Keeping the pieces in the rings while doing the final cook will not only ensure retention of shape but will also guarantee a thin, almost toffee like crispy layer.

Here the meat is served with skordalia - a lemony, garlicky potato puree made with milk and olive oil.  Good old mash would be glorious, of course, but the sharpness of the skordalia works really well with the richness of the meat.

Pork belly is emphatically NOT diet food.  That piece pictured above came in at an eye watering 26 pro points - that is most of a day's allowance.  However, for an occasional treat it is hard to beat, and if a day or so abstinence is required to enjoy it guilt free then so be it (although feel free to remind me of that sentiment if the scales spit in my face next Wednesday and I come on here to moan at you).

Bon appetit!

Out to Dinner

So, last Saturday D and I, along with my brother (D2) and his wife (V) kept a longstanding date with one Mr Heston Blumenthal. Or rather, Heston Blumenthal’s former right-hand man at The Fat Duck and now head chef at Dinner. Not that we saw either of them. But to be fair, if Heston had happened to pop in for lunch that day he would have probably have popped right out again when presented with a squealing fan girl (I have a tendency to get as excited around famous chefs as pre-pubescent girls get around JLS).

The outing didn’t get off to the very best of starts; D2 and V got stuck on the Underground which meant they were late meeting us which meant that we were late getting to our table. Both D and I, but especially D, are pathologically punctual. Well, actually, I’d say that I am punctual, D is early. He started getting agitated at about quarter to twelve (admittedly, we had made tentative plans to meet them in the hotel bar at half past eleven, but equally, they had to convey a six month old baby and all the luggage that said small child generates to his grandparents’ house before setting off, and so I was unsurprised that they were running slightly behind schedule). By five to twelve I was also getting a little twitchy, although getting stuck into an appletini of mammoth proportions was taking the edge off. D had stopped hoovering up the Kettle Chips at this point – when D stops eating snacks then you know that the balance of his mind is seriously disturbed.

But they arrived and disaster was averted and the very charming staff, with nary a reference to the fact that we were nearly quarter of an hour late sitting down, offered us a seat on the terrace, with pashminas for the ladies if the slightly brisk July (!) weather became uncomfortable. And D calmed down and we all had a glass of champagne, at which point he probably regretted not smuggling the bar snacks in with him.

The menu at Dinner is rather exciting. The dishes are all “inspired by historic British gastronomy” and so often peculiarly named with unexpected ingredients, with the sources of origin listed on the back of the menu (which we snaffled). Personally, I felt a little adrift. Usually when I go to a fancy restaurant, I order a tasting menu. Not only because I am extraordinarily bad at decision making but because I want to get a feel for the restaurant and the cooking. Actually, the second half of that sentence makes me sound terribly poncey…let’s face it, it’s probably because I had a deep seated need to be told what to do rather than have to decide for myself. Here, not only did I have to decide for myself, but the language of the food was not what I was used to. There was a starter on there called “Rice and Flesh” for goodness sake (of which more in a second).

We kicked off with a pre starter, the “Meat fruit” which was a chicken liver parfait presented like an orange. Look at the picture – you’ll see what I mean. We got two of these for the table so as not to ruin our appetites. I wish we had ordered one each. This was amazing. Seriously, the best chicken liver parfait I have ever eaten and probably ever will eat. Silky, rich, that deeply savoury tang of iron that you get from liver, but overlaid with a delicate sweetness and the fragrance of citrus. We were back in plate licking territory here.

Best.  Chicken liver.  Ever.

I must credit my photographer at this point.  I had (for once) remembered to bring along my nifty little pink Nikon but unfortunately had not remembered to check that the battery was charged.  So these pictures come to you courtesy of D's mobile phone and with his apologies if they are not as clear as they could be (he informs me that the camera on his current phone is not as good as the one on his previous handset).  Considering I manage to make everything I photograph look awful, I don't think he has anything to worry about.

Both the boys, being boys, had ordered Rice and Flesh for their starters. The name put me off – I’ll hold my hands up to that. But lordy. This was probably the best risotto I’d ever eaten (on the basis of the spoonful D allowed me to try). D and D2 suggested that larger lumps of meat would have improved the dish. I think serving it up in a bucket big enough to stick your head in is the only way it could have been bettered. I mean, wow. My salamagundy was fine, don’t get me wrong, but I think I mainly ordered it because I like the word and it didn’t cause rampaging flavour fireworks to go off in my mouth – if anything I would have liked more of a horseradish kick. And I think V was a wee bit underwhelmed by her scallops.

Best.  Risotto.  Ever.

Onto the mains – and again one stand out dish. The pork chop, served with pointy cabbage (I ate it and I’m still not sure what the difference between pointy and normal cabbage really is) was the best. Pork. Chop. Ever. That’s three best evers in one meal! I don’t know what the hell this pig had been doing throughout its life (perhaps strumming a celestial harp on a cloud?) or how the kitchen had coaxed such extraordinary flavour out of the meat (fairy dust???) but it was amazing. Amazing. I will never eat a piece of pork again without thinking, a little sadly, it’s not the angel-fairy pig that I had at Dinner. On the other side of the table, the powdered duck (no, we couldn’t work out what the powdered bit referred to) was not provoking similar raptures. I mean it was fine, it tasted good and gamey. The accompanying pomme puree had more butter in it than pommes, which is always a good thing, but it was not…special enough.

Best.  Pork.  Ever.

We moved onto puddings and the two Ds went for the dish which is apparently becoming a bit of a Dinner signature – the roasted pineapple with tipsy cake. It was good – cake and cream and brandy cannot fail but to be good. The two girls, on the other hand, went for a dessert called a Chocolate Bar (I think I’ve mentioned my feelings on desserts before; if it isn’t chocolatey then I am generally a little disappointed, no matter how lovely it is). Which was scrummy – accompanied by a tangy layer of passion fruit (chocolate and passion fruit – a revelatory combination for me and one I must experiment with at home) and a scoop of ginger ice cream which worked very well, bringing a spicy note to the dish. No best evers in this course though. Nice puddings, great puddings in fact, but they didn’t reach the lofty bar set by some of their savoury compatriots. I was rather impressed by a complimentary little post dessert though – a white chocolate and Earl Grey ganache with a caraway biscuit. Again, a very interesting new chocolate/flavour combination which made me wonder about experimenting with some sort of white chocolate studded tea loaf.

So, great food including three best evers, friendly staff, good location – what’s the final verdict?  I actually think I liked it more than the others.  My brother said (while leaning back sipping his dessert wine – if he had a moustache he probably would have been twiddling it) that he didn’t feel that he had been taken on a “journey”.  I told him he was a pompous git, but I kind of get what he means.  Because the menu takes dishes from a variety of eras it overall lacks a little cohesion and, to be brutally honest, some of the dishes are a little humdrum (sometimes there is a reason as to why a dish has gone out of fashion).  Others are superlative.  But when you’re paying that sort of money for a meal you expect consistency.  Overall, it’s a solid seven. 

Meal Planning Monday 9

The last menu planning post I did was two weeks ago, and I still haven’t managed to cook all of the dishes from it. It seems to have had some sort of magical, bottomless property – like a pot of soup in a fairytale.

Actually, I think it more likely it has something to do with the relentless, muggy heat we have been experiencing recently. It turns me into something akin to a Victorian Miss – all languid and droopy and not inclined to cook. A good job I live in a country that tends towards the chilly end of the scale really, or else I’d actually start to look like a piece of toast.

So, what’s on the menu this week? Well, I still want to cook the three cheese and bacon pasta I mentioned a couple of weeks ago (think we’ll have this tonight) and a yummy looking fish stew with fennel which was also first mooted a while back (that takes care of tomorrow).

Saturday, I’m thinking curry – something seriously spicy with naan breads, carrot salad and some sort of pulse accompaniment – I’ve got some yellow split peas in the cupboard which might make a tasty dhal (dahl? Daal?)

We’ve also got a couple of spice packs to use up that we were given as a gift from this website a while back (NB: the particular ones we have don’t appear to be on there any longer). This means at some point we shall be having jerk pork with rice and peas and mango salsa, and also a Portuguese layered fish and potato dish called Caldeirada, which sounds rather intriguing.

As ever, if you are looking for meal planning inspiration, pop over to Mrs M’s blog.

Cheek to Cheek

It may not really be the weather for it (yes, there has been sunshine in the North, Peridot!), but we had a delicious stew for tea last night from a recipe by Mark Hix. Pork cheeks, slow cooked with chorizo until they were on the verge of disintegrating entirely into the port enriched gravy, then served with a glossy sprinkle of broad beans which had been tossed in a little butter. The original recipe is here if you are interested; I tinkered with it a little to make it a little more WW friendly and more suitable for the slow cooker I was planning to use.

The point of the post is, though, have you cooked pork cheeks yet? And if not, why not? Once you finished reading this, get yourself down to the Waitrose meat counter, or indeed, your local butcher (should you be so fortunate as to have one) and acquire some. And yes, I am being bossy – but I promise you’ll thank me for it. Unlike other cuts of meat which have been proclaimed cheap by “sleb” chefs (which causes everyone goes out and buys them so that the price rockets), pork cheeks are genuinely, rock bottomely cheap. A couple of your English pounds will get you plenty enough for four portions.

Pork cheeks benefit from long, slow cooking - treat them with a bit of care and languor and the meat will be gloriously tender. As I mentioned, I used my slow cooker – eightish hours on the low setting and they were perfect. But equally, we have cooked them in the oven for a few hours which worked perfectly well. And in terms of Weight Watchers, I reckon (from information garnered on t’Internet) they are about 3 pro points per 100g raw meat – which is roughly the same as pork shoulder. Not at all bad. I’m currently thinking they would work well in a curry (vindaloo is, I believe, traditionally made with pork) or perhaps with some Chinese style spicing…yep, I definitely feel a trip to Waitrose coming on…