Bubble and Squeak
After last night’s roast pork, we found ourselves with various left overs, including roast potatoes, cabbage, runner beans and some of the pork itself. Kerri was rather excited at the prospect of making bubble and squeak which is a favourite of hers, so we kept all the leftovers and set about making it this evening. We steamed an extra potato and some more cabbage because it didn’t look like we had quite enough.
Kerri started by chopping up the leftover roast potatoes into little bits, then adding the new steamed potato, giving them a bit of a rough mash with a fork and then added the chopped up cabbage and beans. This all went into a frying pan and was fried, turning now and then, until it was nicely browned and a little crispy. It didn’t turn out quite as crispy as Kerri wanted, probably because we had added the steamed potato, but it definitely tasted good.
Kerri ate hers with cold roast pork and I ate mine with some reheated roast pork and some left over gravy, which I was assured by Kerri was not done when eating bubble and squeak, but I enjoyed it.
L’Artisan du Chocolat
If we were going to be anywhere in Kent on a nice sunny Saturday afternoon then it would be a safe bet that nine times out of ten we would find ourselves driving down to the seaside or somewhere scenic rather than an industrial estate in Ashford, as we did a week ago. However, there was a very good reason for this otherwise crazy-sounding journey: chocolate. And not just any chocolate, but the particularly fine chocolate of L’Artisan du Chocolat.
We were there to go on a tour of their production facility / atelier and do a bit of chocolate tasting. Arriving a little early, we were led into the tasting room by Anne where we waited for a short while and browsed the catalogue while waiting for other people to arrive. Once everyone who had booked the tour had arrived (there were just under a dozen or so of us), Gerard arrived and gave us a short history of the company while telling us about the atelier tour upon which we were about to embark.
As we were entering a food production facility, we had to dress for the part. Which meant a hair net, overcoat and shoe covers. All very attractive and stylish – they’ll be on the catwalks of the world next year without a doubt.
The first area that we entered was, appropriately enough, the area that ingredients first enter when they arrive. Shelves were stacked high with dry ingredients ranging from the usual bulk sugar, milk powder, etc, to more interesting additions such as rose petals and dried cherries. Organic ingredients are stored to one side. The large walk-in fridge contains ingredients such as cream that needs to be kept cold. Particularly interesting is the small separate fridge compartment where the Marc de Champagne for Champagne truffles is stored, along with Chapel Down English sparkling wine for the truffles that are made from it. When ingredients arrive, they are all inspected and carefully checked for quality and contamination before being allowed into the facility, where they are each marked with a lot number for full traceability.
All very interesting, but all very warehouse. Into a kitchen area next, and we are getting closer to the heart of the operation. Gerard starts opening cupboards and producing strange and wonderful ingredients to show to us. The first was raw sea salt imported from France. We tasted a few crystals and it really did taste of the sea rather than just salt; it includes sea minerals and flavours that just don’t exist in refined salt. This is of course the salt that goes into their acclaimed salted liquid caramels. Next in the curious list of ingredients were sun dried limes. They look like tiny melons and when broken open they reveal blackened remnants of lime which doesn’t look very appetising but tastes really interesting, with a fermented citric acidity coming through and lasting on the tongue for a long time. Also black cardamom, which is larger than the usual green cardamom used in cooking and smells really smoky, almost like a peaty whisky.
From there into the production facility itself. Walking through the door we were met with three tables covered in jasmine scented ganache resting before being used as interiors for truffles. Gerard took us to a table in the centre of the room and started opening containers, taking out some cocoa butter and cocoa powder. Most companies use these two ingredients, he explains, to make their chocolate – a large company will extract them both from the cocoa beans and sell them in bulk for other people to make their chocolate from. At L’Artisan du Chocolat, they use whole cocoa beans themselves, so don’t need to use the separate ingredients. It is interesting to have a look at them though; especially the cocoa butter which is a very strange substance. It is a very stable fat, and tasting it, it doesn’t taste like a lot and has a curiously waxy mouthfeel due to its melting point being slightly under body temperature.
These properties of cocoa butter make it ideal for use in cosmetics and in fact it has become the most valuable component of the cocoa bean. This led to the chocolate industry discovering a way of making chocolate cheaper: extract the cocoa butter, sell it off to the cosmetics industry and then replace its role in chocolate-making with cheaper (and unfortunately less tasty) vegetable fats. No such dubious practices here at L’Artisan du Chocolat though; in fact as I mentioned above, they use the whole cocoa bean rather than separating it into cocoa powder and cocoa butter anyway.
Next up, we taste some cocoa mass which is what you get if you press the cocoa beans yourself and don’t separate them into cocoa and cocoa powder. It is unsweetened and comes across as being bitter, but you can certainly taste the fact that it would turn into chocolate with a bit of refinement and sugar. That was cocoa mass from one particular variety of cocoa plant grown in Brazil, which is what gives it that particular taste. Then we tasted another, which was from a different variety grown in Java. The Brazilian one was coarsely ground and also had a smoky flavour to it, whereas the Javan one was more finely ground and tasted a little sweeter with fruity notes to it.
From this we went on to taste chocolate bars made from refined chocolate from various sources.
Gerard explained how chocolate is conched, which means that it is mixed over a long period of time to soften it and remove the bitter flavours without having to add anything extra to it. These bars actually tasted like chocolate, but between the four of them there was still a range of flavours, textures and characters depending on where the cocoa beans had been grown. It does give you an insight into the variations that exist in natural products; in the world of wine we celebrate the differences between different varieties grown in different regions of the world, but with chocolate we usually end up buying over-processed, mass-produced chocolate from large corporations that lose the individuality of the chocolate itself. Of course when you are running an artisan operation like this, you can keep each of these individual chocolate characters and pair them with different fillings and flavourings that match them well rather than using homogenised, mass-produced chocolate.
Next, into a room containing a number of machines and moulds. Chocolate needs to be tempered before being used in moulds, etc, which means bringing it down to one degree above its solidification temperature slowly to prevent the fat separating from the rest of it. Then it can be used in moulds to create all manner of shapes and creations.
While Gerard was explaining all of this to us and showing us various moulds including hearts and a rather large chicken, Anne was at the other end of the room, patiently coating hundreds of dried cherries in chocolate. These would then go down a conveyor belt to dry and then join their friends in a box. After that, a quick visit to the walk-in fridge and freezer, then past all the packaging waiting to be filled with delicious chocolate creations:
And then back into the room in which we had started, and time to taste some of these creations. We tasted a number of different chocolate truffles from their range, including the brilliant salted liquid caramels. Gerard ran us quickly through a history of the company – they have been in operation for 10 years, and three years ago they moved to this larger facility to help them increase their production and provide more scope for developing new products. When they started out, he was working in a single room producing wonderfully crafted chocolates – Gordon Ramsay started serving his chocolates in 1999 and he started making tobacco chocolates for Heston Blumenthal’s Fat Duck in 2000. Now that others have started copying their famous salted caramels, they have been coming out with a few new flavoured twists on the theme to keep ahead of the game. They now have a few shops across London – in Chelsea, Notting Hill and in Selfridge’s too.
I was really impressed by the tour and the in-depth explanations that Gerard gave us about every step of the production process. His passion for and knowledge about everything chocolate-related shows through at every point and although they have moved into a larger production facility and employ staff there,
everything still has the impression of being hand made, with a heavy emphasis on using fresh ingredients and experimentation.
Tours cost £35 per person (we didn’t pay for ours though) and are on certain Saturdays
Web site: http://www.artisanduchocolat.com
Chocolate tour and tasting details
Roast Pork
We had an early dinner of roast pork today, with a garlic, bay and sage rub, sage and onion stuffing, crackling and roast potatoes. Roast pork is one of our favourites and it’s been a while since we had it, it was lovely but next time I think we’ll try a larger, bone-in leg as this dried out a little.
Oyster Masterclass
A few weeks ago, I was contacted by the PR company behind Le Bouchon Breton is Spitalfields and asked if I wanted to attend their latest oyster masterclass; we would be tasting a selection of 10 oysters from France, England, Scotland and the Channel Islands, all paired with a selection of Champagne and fine wine.
I like oysters but tend to stick to Whitstable native oysters, simply because it’s usually in Whitstable that I tend to eat them. I didn’t even know there were 10 varieties so clearly I needed to attend the class to enhance my understanding.
On arrival I was greeted with a glass of Champagne and a trolley full of oysters, I could see the 10 different types but it was difficult to tell the difference between them at this stage. Once I started to taste, it became clear that the complexities of flavour and texture varied hugely between the different varieties.
Before the tasting began, we were introduced to our ‘machine’, the implement we would be using to open our oysters throughout the evening and then take home with us. It was much like an ordinary oyster shucker but it had an extra lever that was used for cracking the shell of the oyster to facilitate easier opening. I felt a bit of a fraud using the ‘machine’ (it reminded me of those hinged, children’s chopsticks), but I was glad to have it since it did make the opening much easier and given that I’m somewhat accident prone, it probably saved me a trip to A&E.
There were about of us at the tasting, seated at tables in the restaurant arranged in a U shape with our oyster maestro Yoann Truwant in the middle demonstrating the shucking and explaining the difference between them. He also talked us through how oysters are grown, which are considered to be the best and how to eat them.
Grown – all oysters are farmed. This is important for the shape, the packaging and the transport. They are turned at least 150 times during their lifetime and generally live to be 2.5-3 years old (Pacific) or 6 years old (native). 85% of the oysters eaten in Europe are from Japan or Canada. The other 15% are the native. The native are twice the price of the Pacific oysters, due to their longer growing time.
The best oysters in the world are considered to be French Fin de Claire and the Special de Claire. Yoann didn’t go into much detail about why these were the best but they weren’t my favourite of those we tasted. Incredibly salty and strongly flavoured with an almost flabby texture, they didn’t come close to the native oysters I’m used to and that we tasted later on.
How to eat them? Not with the shallot vinegar that they’re so often served with. It’s best to dip bread into this in between tasting/eating as it will dilute the saltiness and help your palate to re-adjust to a normal, saline level. The first oysters we tried were accompanied by a glass of Champagne, a classic combination but not the best. The Champagne was slightly too acidic to let the full flavour of the oyster shine and the Muscadet we drank next worked much better. The Poilly Fume worked well too, especially with the sweeter, native oysters.
Aside from the native oysters from Au Pied D’Cheval and Loch Ryan that I liked the best, (due to their perfect balance between saltiness and sweetness, their long finish and the hint of Marmite/olive-like unami), I also really enjoyed the Jersey oysters. They had a very clean taste and a meaty texture with a full flavour and a more subtle hit of saltiness.
At the end of the session, Yoann demonstrated how to cook oysters and serve them with a cream and spinach sauce. At the same time, the chefs in the kitchen were busy replicating the dish for us to sample with a glass of Entres deux Mer. These were very good, the breadcrumbs adding a pleasing texture contrast to the silky, meaty oysters and hit of aniseed from the Pernod they were cooked in.
As the evening drew to a close, I spent some time talking to the other ‘students’ about what we had learnt and their reasons for attending. Many of them were local, loved the restaurant and were keen to come back again; some simply loved oysters and wanted to learn more and others mentioned that they were bored of eating out and wanted to experience something different.
It certainly was a different kind of dining experience: an interesting opportunity to learn more about the food you’re eating and be involved in a more sociable and interactive way of eating in a restaurant. I came away with a much better understanding of ‘bivalve molluscs’ and how to eat them which can only be a good thing.
Future classes will run on the following dates:
Friday 30 October 2009 from 6.30pm
Friday 27 November 2009 from 6.30pm
Friday 29 January 2010 from 6.30pm
Friday 26 February 2010 from 6.30pm
Friday 26 March 2010 from 6.30pm
Classes cost £60. To book, contact reservations at Le Bouchon Breton on 08000 191 704.
Le Bouchon Breton
8 Horner Square,
Old Spitalfields Market,
London
E1 6EW
You can see the full set of pictures here.
Nigel Slater’s Thai-inspired Soup
I don’t like this time of year very much. Summer is my favourite season and, when it comes to an end, the prospect of short evenings and dark, cold days fills me with a sense of dread. I do however enjoy winter cooking and the change in the television schedule: just now there is a plethora of food TV to enjoy and I’m not fussy about what I watch, sucking it all up and moaning endlessly about the rubishness of some of it, much to Stephen’s amusement.
Last night, I settled down for a marathon of food viewing, starting with Nigel Slater and his Simple Suppers programme. Of all the shows I’m currently moaning about, this is the worst. I like Nigel Slater’s writing and enjoy his columns in the Saturday Guardian and the Observer but I find watching him on television almost unbearable. The endless repetition (which I know is more to do with the editing that the man himself) of this week’s theme (last night was ‘food that grows together, goes together’, I got it the first time and didn’t need to hear another three times), the over-stylised, Sunday-Supplement style shots of his kitchen, garden and notebook and the generally uncomfortable and at times, wooden posture makes me cringe and shout at the TV.
Still I watch and while I don’t always feel inspired by the ‘recipes’ shown (bubble and squeak and tomato sauce for pasta being just two that most people watching a cookery show will most likely know how to cook already, won’t they?), every now and again something stands out and I feel vindicated for tuning in. Last night, it was this soup. I questioned the use of turmeric in a Thai-style dish but, in fairness, this was only Thai-inspired so I was happy to overlook that and leave it out when it came to cooking it myself. We made a few other changes too: homemade fish stock in place of vegetable, some lime leaves added near the end of the cooking time and a squeeze of lime juice to lift the flavours just before serving.
And the verdict? It was good, very good in fact and something I think we’ll definitely cook again. It didn’t quite hit the hot, sour, salty, sweet notes that Thai dishes are renowned for but the original recipe was only supposed to be Thai-inspired and, I think it did a pretty good job of being just that.
Gallipoli
We were over in North London yesterday and, having not done very much research on places to go for lunch, we ended up at Gallipoli on Upper Street. There are two branches not very far apart but the cafe is less formal and has a menu that reflects that, lots of little dishes and grilled meats rather than the tagines and baked dishes found at Gallipoli Bazaar. We’ve eaten here a couple of times before but not for a long time so this was a good excuse to return.
As there were three of us, we decided on a selection of the small dishes so that we could taste as many things as possible. In retrospect, we probably should have tried some more new dishes rather than sticking mostly to old favourites but that can go on the list of reasons to return.
The sucuk izgara (grilled Turkish sausage) was highly seasoned and generally thought to be good, I found the texture a little off-putting though: a little squeaky and chewy, like over-cooked chorizo.
The halloumi (or hellim as they call it) was just as halloumi should be, salty and squeaky and served on top of some grilled, Turkish bread with some salad alongside. The char-grilled flavour came across really strongly, much more so than when we’ve cooked it on a griddle pan or barbecue at home.
The broad bean dish (Zeytinyagli Bakla) came with a dill-yoghurt sauce which was sharp and fresh, it was good on it’s own but went particularly well the salty halloumi and spiced sausage.
The hummus was much smoother than hummus we’ve eaten before and usually we prefer a coarser texture but this was very good, full of flavour and another great contrast to the spicier foods we ordered – a happy accident really because we just picked a bunch of dishes that we like rather than thinking about what would go with what.
The kisir was the closest dish we could find to tabbouleh on the menu and was a lot like tabbouleh except with the addition of a tomato sauce and hazelnuts. I enjoyed the crunch of the nuts but wasn’t particularly keen on the tomato sauce.
We also had falafel but we don’t seem to have a picture of those. These were excellent and a much better example than those we made earlier in the week. These included carrot and broad beans which ours didn’t, not that I’m claiming that as the difference but I was surprised by the addition of broad beans.
This was the perfect amount for three of us for lunch but I’d like to go back and explore the grill menu, if the smoky halloumi is anything to go by then I imagine it’s all very good.
Chorizo and Butter Bean Stew
This was based on a recipe given to me by a friend and entitled “Tuscan Bean Stew”, we used chorizo instead of the suggested pancetta though which probably makes it less Tuscan and more Spanish, hence the renaming.
It was really good, much better than other versions of this we’ve attempted in the past. The small amount of chorizo adds lots of flavour and makes it a very economical dish. Quick too and versatile as I imagine you could add lots of different vegetables if you wanted to.
Chorizo and Butter Bean Stew
125g chorizo, sliced
1 onion, finely diced
1 stick celery, finely diced
1 carrot, finely diced
2 cloves garlic, crushed
1 small red chilli, finely chopped
1/2 inch ginger, finely chopped
Celery tops
1 tin tomatoes
300ml chicken stock
400g beans (we used dried beans, soaked overnight and boiled for 1.5 hours)
Salt and pepper
Bay leaf
Start by browning the chorizo and then removing from the pan. Add the onion, carrot and celery and sweat for about 15 minutes, or until everything is very soft.
Add the garlic, chilli and ginger and allow to brown briefly. Stir in the rest of the ingredients, bring to the boil, reduce and simmer for 30 minutes.
Home Grown Tomatoes!
A couple of years ago, we tried to grow various sorts of vegetables in our garden but a freak hailstorm killed almost all of them except for a handful of tiny carrots. So, disheartened, last year we didn’t try to grow much in the way of edible plants. This year we weren’t planning to try much either, but the nice people at grownforyou.co.uk sent us six tomato plants earlier in the year in return for us letting them use a picture of the aforementioned tiny carrots on their web site.
However, we weren’t very good parents to the baby plants and only a few survived to be planted outside. Then they grew too big and we hadn’t staked them and they fell over and broke when it was very windy one day. One of the plants was particularly hardy though and even though most of it was horizontal, it still grew some little tomatoes. Today was the day that five of them looked ripe enough to pick, so that is our first tomato harvest in the picture above. There are still fourteen left on the plant, hopefully we’ll be nice enough to it for them all to ripen too. Just think how many tomatoes we would have had had we managed to be better plant parents!
Falafel Failure
We’ve tried to make falafel before. Only once. They came out a rather nasty shade of green, fell apart when we tried to cook them and eventually ended up in the bin. This recipe was recommended to us and, at a bit of a loss as to what to cook this evening, we thought we’d have another go.
These worked well until we came to cook them. They held together better than our previous attempts but were too soft and fell apart when we tried to eat them. They tasted quite good though and we both feel they’re worth another try. More flour, dried beans and less blending of the chickpeas are all things that might improve them.
The original recipe is here, we doubled the spicing and used fresh chilli rather than dried.
Keith Floyd’s Jambalaya
In honour of Keith Floyd, who sadly passed away this week, we thought we would cook something from his repertoire for tonight’s dinner. Not a lot of his recipes seem to exist online and many of those we found called for huge amounts of seafood which isn’t particularly in keeping with our current budget. We eventually found a recipe for jambalaya on the BBC website so that’s what we had this evening.
The recipe was sketchy and some ingredients where listed in the method but not the ingredients list so we weren’t entirely sure of the exact amounts required. We did a quick search of other recipes to find out what was needed and, during our research, we found that Keith’s recipe wasn’t particularly authentic or as appealing as some of the others. Still, that wasn’t really the point so we stuck to his recipe as closely as we could.
The end result? A bit random, not particularly cohesive and somewhat thrown-together, just like I recall most of his recipes being when I watched him on television as a child. I think we probably did him proud, even if it wasn’t the best example of this dish. Here’s to you, Mr Floyd.
I’ll leave you with our favourite quote on Keith Floyd so far, from the Telegraph obituary, kindly pointed out to us by a very dear friend:
“On one occasion he gleefully recalled serving a serially ungrateful diner a carefully cooked beer mat disguised as a breaded escalope of veal. The man ate it without comment but criticised the topping on his crème brûlée.”
