Mussels with Chorizo

I cannot take credit for the cooking of this, nor really the recipe (see Anthony Bourdain's Les Halles cookbook), but it was just so good, that it needed a mention. Everyone has those tired days, when you arrive home soaked through by rain, cold, shivering and fed up with life. Cooking is a far away dream but you think you might just be able to summon the energy to order takeout, though even deciding what you want to eat is a little beyond you.

I arrived home in just such a state a few nights ago and A. happily sat me down in the kitchen and cooked me this. The smell of the shallots and chorizo cooking was heavenly, and then the white whine bubbling away, and then a big bowl full of steaming mussels, with the chorizo and herbs jostling for space. It was really a wonderful meal.

1 cooking chorizo
a handful of shallots
1 1/2 kilos of mussels (well bearded)
a handful of parsley
two handfuls of coriander
a glass of dry white wine (and the rest of the bottle for drinking)
lots of crusty bread for dipping

Chop the onions and chorizo finely and fry in a little olive oil until the onions are translucent and the fat is coming out of the chorizo. Add a glass of wine and bring to the boil. Check through the mussels one last time discarding any that are open and do not close when tapped. When the pot is boiling add the mussels and pop the lid on. Chop the herbs. After about 8-10 minutes the mussels should have opened wide. Now chuck in the herbs, and serve in bowls with bread for mopping up the juices.

A note of caution. Buy mussels on the day you want to eat them, and don't store them in the fridge (most fridges are to cold and they will die), but wrapped in newspaper and covered in damp cloths. A few hours before you want to eat them empty them all into the sink and scrub (no soap!) off any barnacles and pull off any beard. Any mussels that are open and do not close when tapped are dead and should be thrown out.

Carrot Soup

I spent the last two weeks in France, attempting to do some work and with A cooking me up all kinds of delicious things in the kitchen to fuel the study. The weather was crisp and clear, and the countryside around us as beautiful as ever.





It all seems a distant memory now that we are home, on this bleak Oxford day. I have that overtired feeling where I just want to wrap up warm and cook cosseting food thats gentle and cosy. A little carrot soup seems in order.

2 large Onions
6 large carrots
thyme
olive oil
4 garlic bulbs
salt and pepper
chicken stock

Slice the onions finely and then cook them long and slow with the olive oil and thyme, adding the garlic. When you have a rich colour add the chopped carrots and cover with the chicken stock. Bring to the boil and then simmer until the carrots are tender. Use a hand blender to get a thick puree, and season with salt and pepper.
This is best served with thick hunks of good bread spread with generous quantities of butter.

Brioche

The light has definatly changed in Oxford: a warm autumnal glow in the evening and crisp, crisp blue skies in the morning. The air has changed too, its sharper somehow, and no matter how warm the late afternoon sun might be, it would be silly to venture out without a cardigan and scarf.

Sunday found me holed up at home, jumper and socks on and heating full blast to beat the chill, playing with yeast. Our new breadmaker whirred away as I type, knocking up a little brioche dough for me to play with.


Brioche

250g of strong white bread flour
75g of butter
3 eggs
1 tablespoon of sugar
1 teaspoon of salt
1 teaspoon of fast acting yeast

All mixed together in the bread maker on the dough setting. My bread maker requires liquids to be added first, but some start with dry ingrediants. The dough was then shaped into pairs of large and small balls, popped small on top of large in greased moulds and left to rise for half an hour. It was then glazed with an egg wash before being baked at 200 oc until golden brown.

Few things beat the smell of baking bread on a cold sunday afternoon...and brioche only makes it better.

I had meant to take photos, but in the end ate most of the brioche before I got my camera out. The photo above is of the last lingering one, while below are the moulds I've just washed up, a little knackered, and not quite brioche moulds, but fitting the bill.

Months lost...

Good intentions do not write blogs. August and September have been a blur, moving house being probably the most major upheavel. It sounds kind of lame when written down, but it meant that most of my kitchen spent its life in boxes for several weeks, and is only just emerging into my nice new kitchen. But on the plus side it now means I have an electric convection oven instead of the hateful gas one which plotted against me to ruin my baking at every opportunity. Not only that, but my kitchen is actually big enough to house a kitchen table, which is the fulfillment of what had become a surprisingly heartfelt desire (seperate dining rooms several doors away do not make for domestic bliss).

So, down to the cooking. In truth, I have been slaving away about 60 hours a week in a local deli, which has honed my chopping skills somewhat, but has meant that when I come home I tend to demand food rather than cook it. A has consequently been doing a lot of the cooking. So, although I pretty much missed the joys of redcurrents, blackcurrents, and the last of the raspberries, I'm looking forward to the figs, beautiful greengages and damsons which spell this time of year. Not only that but the winter veggies are beginning to appear, and s

Lemon Icecream with Strawberries and Raspberries

I've been thinking of making something like this for a while now, but somehow never got around to it. I find I have far more recipes lingering in my head than I'll ever have time to cook, or people to cook for. A friend of mine is having us over for dinner tommorrow night though, and I offered to cook dessert. He's making pea and mint soup to start with, and then (weather dependent) some home made burgers and wedges, so this throwback to british childhood birthday parties seemed perfect, plus it fits in nicely with the fact that I'll be running around like a maniac tommorrow and so need something do-ahead.

Lemon Icecream

My icecream maker is out of action at the moment, so instead of a usual custard base icecream I made a pate a bombe with lightly whipped cream folded in. Pate a bombe is egg yolks whipped until they are light and frothy, and tripled in volume, with a hot sugar syrup beaten in so that the yolks cook. The heat of the sugar syrup cooks the egg yolks, while also trapping the air. Into this is then folded lightly whipped cream. As both of these mixtures contain a lot of air the resulting icecream acheives a lightness without the constant stirring a usual custard requires.

100g of sugar
50ml of water
250ml of double cream
6 egg yolks
zest of 3 lemons

Whisk the egg yolks until light and fluffy and at least tripled in volume. Meanwhile heat the sugar and water until the sugar has dissolved and the mixture reaches the boil. At this point pour it slowly into the egg yolks, continuing to whisk the mixture all the while, and keep whisking until it is cool.

Whip the cream lightly, and zest the lemons. Fold the zest and cream into the egg yolk mixture. Put in a covered container in the freezer overnight, folding occasionally. To serve, slightly thaw the icecream in the refridgerator for 20 minutes before serving.

I usually like to drizzle a little triple sec over strawberries before serving them, but with this icecream they really don't need it. A little lemon zest and sugar is perfect.

Madelines with Cherries

These are inspired by Clafoutis, with a cherry imbedded in each tiny madeline, the stalk poking out as a handle ready to pop each one into your mouth.

I love madelines simple and plain, but a little fruit complements the light cake wonderfully, and, with the almonds, cherries are an easy choice. I played with a Gordon Ramsey recipe for madelines from his Just Desserts cookbook, increasing the ground almonds, reducing the flour, and using a little vanilla to flavour rather than the lemon zest he suggests. if you wanted to make them more dessert like, then we all agreed that a dash of kirsh in the madeline batter would go a long way.

Just warm from the oven these made scrumptious little bites.

75g of unsalted butter
80g of sugar
3 medium eggs
60g of ground almonds
60g of plain flour
a few drops of vanilla extract

Heat the butter in a little pan over a low heat until the solids seperate and then brown. Strain the butter to remove the browned solids, and set aside to cool. In another bowl whisk the sugar with the eggs until they are light in colour, and leave a trail when drizzled over the surface of the mixture. An electric beater is a godsend for this job. If you don't have one don't be tempted to give up at an early stage as this is what gives the madelines their lightness. Fold the flour and almonds gently into the egg mixture, being very careful not to knock out the air. Lastly fold in the cooled, but still runny, butter. Leave to sit for two hours. Meanwhile heat the oven to 190oc, and butter the madeline moulds. I used half the mixture to make plain madelines, and with the other half I made cherry madelines, but in little cake moulds rather than the traditional madeline mould.



For the plain madeline simply spoon the mixture into the moulds until they are two thirds full and bake untl golden brown. For the cherry madelines also fill the moulds until two-thirds full, but then pop in a whole, unpitted cherry with the stalk attached. There is no need to push it down more than half-way into the mixture: as the madeline bakes the mixture wil rise around it. Bake until golden brown. Remove from the oven and leave to cool for a few minutes in the moulds, then turn out onto a rack to cool more. They are best eaten warm, with a mug of tea or coffee, but can also be kept in an airtight container, in which case I like to just warm them slightly in a very low oven before serving them to take the chill off them.

Clafoutis with Plums

I spent the last couple of weeks in france, recuperating from the stress of finishing my thesis.

Unfortunatly I missed the cherries by a couple of weeks, but there was a lovely bush of little yellow plums, a lot like greengages except for their colour. A little Clafoutis seemed like the best way to use the huge amount of fruit. Clafoutis is half way between a cake and a custard, with a golden top but a moist interior.



Traditionally clafoutis is made with cherries, but any fruit is very good with it, particularly stone fruit like plums, greengages and damsons, though I've made it with apples and pears before too. Fruit with big stones is worth de-stoning and slicing in half, but these plums were only slightly larger than cherries, so stoning them seemed a little labour intensive, plus my father always insists the stones add to the flavour when cooked.



Heat the oven to 210oc. Melt 60g of butter. In a bowl mix 80g of sugar, and 3 medium eggs. Add 300ml of milk, and 200ml of creme fraiche, and fold in 90g of flour and a teaspoon of baking powder, and last but not least the melted butter. Place the fruit in a shallow ovenproof dish and spoon the mixture on top. Bake for about 30 minutes (depending on the size of the pan) until the top is lightly risen and golden, still leaving the bottom moist and custard-like. Serve hot, either plain or with a dollop of icecream, cream, creme fraiche or yoghurt.