A Posh Egg

29/11 A POSH Egg

I know that an omelette hardly constitutes a recipe. Eggs whisked in pan. Cook. Eat. But this marks my first morning in Paris, and if you can think of a more pretentious way to do so than indulging my love of truffles please do tell. There is something so heady about warm soft egg impregnated with black truffle that hits like a drug. I mean its only once in a blue moon that I found some truffle I could afford - but a spot of Parisian indulgence is mandatory.

If you do make this, be prepared for the truffle spores to strip your social class and for a small moment ascend to royalty. Then come crashing back to earth Cinderella, heads will roll when you realise you can't afford to eat truffles for breakfast. Truffe je t'aime.

Ingredients (all approximate) - 

2 eggs
10ml Milk
Truffle, as many shavings as you can afford
Butter
Salt + Pepper

What I did - 

Making an omelette is hardly the hardest thing, and shouldn't really blew classified as a recipe, but just in case. Crack the eggs into a bowl and whisk the milk in with a fork until pale and fluffy.

Put a frypan on the stove and melt the butter, swirling around until the pan is glossy and butter seething. Tip the eggs in and vigorously shake so that it doesn't stick and forms a tough backside. Then you can crash as much salt and pepper as you desire - I do it not, because if you add it to the raw egg mix it tends to dull and cook grey. This ensures a Peruvian gold omelette.

Turn the heat off early so that the top is still runny, now time for the halucionagenic treat. Shave the truffle over the top, flecking the gold with beads of black. Fold the omelette in half and slide to plate.

Dive into the golden semicircle and the heady truffle will prep you for the day - hopefully you're in Paris too ;)

JG

Drunk Fruit Salad

26/11 DRUNK FRUIT SALAD

It may be the only thing I am evangelical about, but my fruit salad crusade is a never ending battle. Sometimes pushing me to drink, which for those who know me understand that isn't hard. In this case however i combined the two and created an adult fruit salad, stealing it from the realm of disappointed children.

This fruit bowl is heady, a combination of the sweetness of the fruit and the punch of the alcohol. I feel you should be free to experiment here, play with what liqueurs you have around. A favourite which I finished was a sour raspberry liqueur which was fruity perfection, alas I haven't found it again - but that just creates the drive for creation. The true reason this culinary Dr. Frankenstein continues to create, or perhaps the Port had more of an effect than expected. It's alive! Or is it?

Ingredients (all approximate) - 

Mango
Blueberries
Pomegranate
Strawberries
Banana
Blood Orange
Maple Syrup
1/2 shot of port/dark rum

What I did - 

Treat the fruit with the respect a sushi Itamae would give to a prized tuna - not to be overly poetic about this. But I would probably spend more time preparing the fruit for a fruit salad than any other dish. The mango isn't chopped, its filleted then slices into thin fleshy strips. The banana is diced small, the blueberries halved and the strawberries cut into pink shards.

This fruit salad has more bling than an oligarchs wife and is bejewelled by pomegranate rubies. I try to get as many out as possible, then squeeze the remaining pomegranate over, showing the bowl in vermillion juice.

I added a slosh of maple syrup, and this time half a measure of sweet port. This creates a sweet woody dressing, and all the fruit in the bowl is given a deep gloss. My fruit salad is raw, sticky and sweet.

JG

Ca$hew Curry

24/11 CA$HEW CURRY

Cashew nut curry has been such a formative part of my childhood, adolescence and current existence. A family recipe from Jamaica House, our Jamaican restaurant - the birthplace of my love of everything caribbean and culinary. It can be made almost instantly from store cupboard supplies, which I know aren't common to everyone, but once you start making this you will always have a stock off all the tins you need.

It is far to easy, far too good and far too addictive to be made public. But in the spirit of the caribbean it should be celebrated and passed on to those I love and who love it. I find it hard to write anything more, because it just is. Though I will pass on a self-discovered secret, when eaten hot it is amazing with fun company and love. But the next day fridge foraging, cold it is an even better solitary indulgence which will warm the soul regardless. For those trusted with safeguarding the recipe, it is a horcrux, containing part of my soul. Keep it secret. Keep it safe.

If you do want it, please contact me :)

JG

Slutty Spaghetti

21/11 SLUTTY SPAGHETTI

I can't pretend this wasn't a little-big mistake. In the sense that my eyes were bigger than my stomach, and was remedy to a tipsy series of events. I know I am preachy about avoiding tomato-based pastas, I am guilty of contradiction here. There is very little tomato sauce used, and is more of a vegetable ragu which happens to be on top of pasta - tactical answer, avoid the question.

I call it slutty because it takes inspiration from Pasta Puttanesca which translates to tarts spaghetti, and involves few ingredients usually found in the kitchen. This one is more slutty, involving all the ingredients I found and is my remedy to a long best-forgotten weekend. Unabashedly eaten from a big bowl with a glass of wine to match. This pasta is all about anti-shame, for you should never feel guilt for indulging any urge. Take the chance and try to steal a fiery kiss, the next day eat this.

Ingredients (all approximate) - 

300g pasta (dried, this is no fuss)

100ml tomato paste
1 shot Campari/1 glass of wine (I know but trust me)
250g Tuna (in oil)
1 onion
1 garlic clove
1/2 tsp Chilli flakes
1 Tomato
Shreds of cabbage
grated stem of a Cauliflower
Parmesan
Parsley

What I did - Two Pots. One Glass of wine.

Don't over think this at all. Put the pasta into a pot filled with water, salted like the mediterranean sea,  and boil. While its cooking, say 10 minutes, prepare the sauce.

Finely dice and fry the onion and garlic, until browned to remove the acrid burn. Add the chilli flakes and then add the alcohol. Now the Campari i used is only in a small amount and adds sweetness but also a strong bitter hit, which counters the salt of the sauce and pasta - take it as you will or use wine if your eyebrow is raised.

Add the grated cauliflower stem to the sauce and stir in, adding some body to the sauce base. Then fry in the cabbage and chopped tomato. Check the pasta at this point, it should be ready to strain. Return to the pot with a slick of olive oil. Back to the sauce, add the tomato paste and then the can of tuna - avoid the cardboard tuna in brine at all costs. Don't stir too much or the tuna will break up, instead let it heat through then you're ready to be filled.

Put the pasta into an extra-large bowl. Cover with the chunky sauce, this isn't an elegant meal and should be eaten guiltily and solo. Scatter parmesan and parsley and take your glass of wine to the sofa. There's no need to look around you or stand on ceremony, just fork all the golden noodles up from the depths of the bowl, collecting the sauce on their way to the impending doom of your waiting mouth.

Use the wine to help yourself through, originally drunk as a digestive in the middle ages so appropriated here. No matter what your problems are, they will all slowly be replaced with pasta fullness. Food is life, life is theatre - never let the curtain close.

JG

The Thieving Mouse

19/11 THIEVING MOUSE

I have a confession, I have stolen. From someone I love with all my heart - The Town Mouse. This recipe is my version of their genius, for they have created two of my favourite dishes and I had to find a way to find the same satisfaction at home. Morphing into a sneaky mouse, thieving inspiration from their roast cauliflower and cabbage - I suddenly found myself addicted to a match made in vegetable heaven.

I do insist that my version doesn't compare in any respect to Mouse's but in the most scattered moods I find great comfort in its warm embrace. I also recommend a dry gin martini with an olive, but for that you must visit The Town Mouse - nobody does it better. I expect one night to hear Gollum's raspy voice whispering "they stole it from us, our precious" but until then let us hungry mice indulge in stolen inspiration. Bon appetite.

Ingredients (all approximate) - 

1/2 Red Cabbage
1 Cauliflower
1 Avocado
50g almonds
50g Raisins
50g Apricot Chutney
50ml Olive Oil
50ml Balsamic Vinegar
50g Butter
75g Parmesan Cheese
50g Breadcrumbs
Salt + Pepper

What I did - Oven at 160

Somewhat haphazardly divide the cabbage half again and separate each layer so that you can create a bed of purple leaves in a wide baking dish. Next decapitate all the heads from the cauliflower and scatter on top. Chop the almonds into small wood chips and scatter over long with the raisins.

For the dressing you can do one of two things, either use a large glass jar and violently shake it together or use a small hand blender to blitz to smithereens. Either will work the same, one just involves a trained arm. Use a fork to scrape the avocado into the jar, try to make the curls as small as possible. Drown with the oil and vinegar then dollop in the apricot chutney (or any spicy fruit chutney, this is just a family recipe always at hand). Just add a dash of both salt and pepper before blitzing or shaking until the avocado is no longer and you have a thick creamy dressing.

The creamy white and waxy purple leaves are ready for their dressing, so oblige them. Pour the whole mix over then using a touch more oil, rinse the dressing jar into the pan.  Now its time for us thieving mice to get our hands dirty. Mix everything together so that the dressing is muddled in and around the cabbage and cauliflower - the less even the better once its baked. Add the butter in small nibs around the pan, nothing is better than butter.

Now time to snow the breadcrumbs - nothing speaks more of a hungry mouse than breadcrumbs - over the dish so that theres a fine layer over all the vegetables. Then do the same with the parmesan, grate until there is a web of cheese threads on the dish. Bake for about 1 and a half hours until everything has cooked through and the tops of the vegetables are golden, and crisp. Then throw it under a very hot grill for the final five minutes to char the top slightly.

No need to stand on ceremony, dish out hot from the oven and let your hunger take over, no mousetrap to hold you back - unless its a dry martini.

JG

Macaroons for Telstra

18/11 Macaroons for Telstra

Leaving everything to the very last minute, the day before international departure I had to sort out my phone contract. So the arduous call began and i found myself waiting for Telstra. Now I know inspiration didn't hit me from the fridge, or in a shower fan like Kath Day-Knight but I did make something up from scratch and was nice, different and unusual.

These are coconut Macaroons akin to the chewy Italian biscuit, rather than the fluffy French Macaron. I was surprised as Kath when they worked out and my phone was sorted before my flight. Things to see, people to do. Sayonara. Thanks Telstra.

Ingredients (all approximate) - 

500g Desiccated Coconut
300g Castor Sugar
150g Almond Meal
2 eggs

What I did - Oven at 180

Begin long call to Telstra, hands free so you can multitask. Tip the coconut, sugar and almond meal into a large mixing bowl. Mix together until even. Crack the eggs over the top. While the phone provider doesn't explain things properly use your hands and mix everything together with frustrated force.

It will take a little while to make the mix combine evenly. Once you have a large sticky lump try rolling a golf ball sized piece, if it holds its shape its good to go. Roll out balls from the rest of the dough and line in military file on a tray with baking paper. Flatten them slightly with your palm into fat discs. Bake for about 10 minutes, until dangerously golden brown (they do catch and burn quickly).

Take out and dust with icing sugar, leave to cool. They are very weak when hot, but as they cool the biscuits become gnawingly chewy. Telstra fixed my phone and lead me to make these. Are you happy with your service today?

JG

Flakey Fish

15/11 FLAKEY FISH

In stressful times the last thing I want to do it bother with lunch or dinner. Organising departure, last day at work and finally the horrors of the world baring unforgiving, sharp teeth. All this in one week, the only thing I want to do is stay in with friends, and send all the love I have to those I can't be with. This baked fish is meant to comfort, involve no time or effort so you can enjoy being with friends.

Normally done with an onion base and cooked for longer, but alas no onions, so i substituted rocket leaves and don't think i'll go back. Make it, eat with friends and know that we're all little fish in a very big pond. Just keep swimming. With all my love.

Ingredients (all approximate) - 

500g White fish fillets (any, I prefer John Dory)

200g(ish) Cherry Tomatoes
1 Lemon (or if lucky preserved Lemons @parkedart)
300g Rocket Leaves
Salt + Pepper

What I did - Oven at 150

Something literally thrown together in a few minutes. Strew the rocket leaves in the bottom of a shallow baking dish creating a leafy floor. Lay the pale Fish on the bed of leaves. Slice the Lemon into discs and squeeze each one over the fish before adorning on top. Slice the tomatoes in half and scatter around the dish. Cover the baking tray with tin foil and bake in the oven for about 30 minutes.

After 30 minutes the fish will be chalky white, almost cooked through. Take the alien-protective foil off and sear the whole tray under a hot grill. The top of the vegetables should char slightly and the fish should be cooked through, but still soft and flakey. Don't worry about overcooking, the liquid keeps the fillet moist.

The fish fillets will be swimming in their own pond, the rocket looking like underwater tendrils, keeping everything hydrated. A fish out of water won't survive and the same is true for cooked fish, it needs its own habitat - and this one is delicious.

JG

Crabby Croissants

11/11 CANADIAN CRABS

While Canadian Crabs sounds like a disappointing and uncomfortable infection, it is the complete opposite. Due to my Maple Syrup obsession they get their namesake. Hot on a tray from of the oven these croissants resemble a march of crabs with gleaming pastry shells and flakey pincers. 

I only bother making the pastry as a kind of personal mission, stubbornly causing myself stress. But I know it isn't for everyone and does involve a lot a lot a lot of time. The fillings are always made up, these though will become a sticky staple. I reply on professional advice for the dough, rare I know but if they fail in place of a dark pastry you would have a queen, me in a raging stomp.

Ingredients (all approximate) - Paul Hollywood's Danish Pastry Recipe

Croissants

3 eggs

500g Flour

90g Castor Sugar

90ml Tepid Water
125ml Milk

10g Dry Yeast
10g Table Salt
250g Unsalted Butter

*Or any all-butter roll of frozen puff pastry, because frankly my dear I don't always give a damn about making the dough.

Filling
50ml Dark Maple Syrup (best quality available)
50g Raw (Demerara) Sugar
1 tsp Ground Cinnamon

What I did - Have a lot of time, and patience. Or ditch it and go to the bakery

The pastry takes 13 hours to prepare. Much of that is letting sit, prove, rise - but does involve constant minimal attention. The recipe I've been using is from master-baker Paul (will-find-problems) Hollywood: http://paulhollywood.com/recipes/danish-pastry-dough/

It's pretty flawless, and easy to follow. But I only bother when I have the time to muck about, and the calm not to scream like a banshee if they don't work. As a back up, I have a roll of frozen puff pastry to defrost in a flash. Either way follow the instructions and once the pastry is ready for filling, continue.

Roll out the dough/pastry to a large rectangle 1cm thick (Prepare the filling, which is a easy as a firm whip. Put the sugar, cinnamon and maple syrup in a small bowl and stir together until you have a burnished brown paste. Spread evenly across the pastry, ensuring that the entire surface is covered, but be careful not to puncture the dough. It may involve a little patience, but it does guarantee that the filling will be across the entire croissant.

Now cut long zigzags right through the pastry so you end up with a long triangle, the base about 10cm long tapering to a sharp point. Roll from the base so that it spirals, with the tip bent around the curl. Pinch it to flatten, and let rise for 2 hours (or if frozen pastry jump ahead). Give the finished croissants an egg wash and bake at 200 degrees for about 15 minute. Keep an eye because they catch and can burn in a second if left too long.

While still hot brush them with apricot jam if you fancy. Or just dive in with a big cup of coffee. Most complicated process but at the end you can say "breakfast is served" with a smug buttery grin.

JG

 

Midnight Martian Magic

07/11 MIDNIGHT MARTIAN MAGIC

 

I'm not superstitious, but the endless depth and unfathomable unknown of space has the power to terrify and rapture. I also believe that midnight is the witching hour, a time brining change for better... or worse. On the stroke of midnight between the 17th and 18th of August I was born into the world, proof there is no way to avoid calamity. The fate of this cake was torn by these forces. Baking by the moon at midnight conjured a magic brining the cake back from inevitable disaster.

The fruitcake cauldron method was taught by Prof. Lawson, albeit an improvised recipe which got lost in the space between cake and brownie. I set out to bake a decorated Bundt* cake. But living up to its name, it ended up sticking to the ancient tin and loosing its molding. A frustrated sleep later the cratered top was remedied with a thick buttercream. Supernaturally reborn, this Bundt of a cake resembles interstellar rings but tastes truly magical.

*Bundt: NOUN def. someone/thing that is a bit shit, missing core aspect, frivolous ornamentation, pot-plant holder. A ring-shaped cake made in a fluted tube pan, called a Bundt pan.


Ingredients (all approximate) - 

3 eggs

200g Self-raising Flour

200g Muscovado (Dark) Sugar

200ml Honey
175g Unsalted butter

1 Whiskey Shot

100g Dark Chocolate

200g Raisins

75g Dried Apricots (chopped fine)

Pinch of salt
1 tsp Ground Coffee

2 tbls Orange Marmalade
 

*I haven't found the buttercream recipe yet, but any French one will do so long as it isn't sickly sweet.


What I did - Oven preheated to 160degrees

My midnight cooking usually starts with a cast iron pot. This is no exception and the whole cake mix is made in the one cauldron, a fruitcake secret passed on from Nigella. Tumble the raisins, apricot, honey, sugar, marmalade, salt, coffee and whiskey into the pot and simmer over a low heat. Stir constantly until you have a glistening fruit mixture, when combined turn heat off. Chop the chocolate finely so that it melts with ease. Stir it as it succumbs to the heat creating a gleaming aromatic lacquer.

Leave the mix to cool and prepare the baking tin, I use a 25cm Bundt tin which reduces the depth of the cake and for such a dense mix ensures an even bake. Make sure you line the bottom and flour the sides, avoid all my mistakes. Then measure out the flour, and beat the eggs in a bowl.

Give the mix a stir, if there is any steam rising let sit longer to cool. Add the eggs quickly beating them before they cook. When combined add the flour and beat again. The mix morphs into something much lighter and should be set in the tin immediately. Level the mix and bake for 1.5 hours. Don't be hoodwinked by the subtle rise, it will cook through and have a dark shiny crust.

Unmold the cake and leave to cool until the morning. I wasn't happy with the botched Bundt bits, so I found a French buttercream recipe to landscape the top. I used cocoa and alien black-sugar to blast one side of this Martian fruitcake like a solar flare. Le voyage dans la lune 🌝

JG

Note: Best served in thin slices with coffee or tea, something to manage the intensity. Unless you feel wine-in-the-bath indulgent.