Pickled Onions – Tears of joy

Pickled Onions

It was an impulse purchase. I was just in my local supermarket getting some essentials, when I saw a bag of pickling onions. It wasn't a big bag, but its teeny, tiny oniony contents, draped seductively next to their larger, brutish red and white cousins, beckoned me over with a vampish grin (I think I really need to step away from this blog for a bit). Before I knew it I was on my internet phone looking up pickling vinegar, jars and spices, and standing in the queue for eight items or less behind some Doris stocking up on tinned tuna and toffee (I'm also sure she had 10 items, but I let it pass just this once). I realise that along with my Christmas beer and pork pies, pickled onions almost completes the set of British pub classics. All I need is a recipe for pork scratchings and I'm set for a one-man lock-in.

Ingredients:
1kg pickling onions, peeled
4 tsp pickling spices or ½tsp coriander seeds, ½tsp mustard seed, ½tsp black peppercorns, ½tsp dried chilli flakes
27g salt
1 litre malt vinegar
170g sugar

Method:
1. Sprinkle the salt over the peeled onions, stir and leave overnight. Next day (do not leave longer than overnight if you want your onions to be crisp) rinse the onions and dry with kitchen towel.
2. Place the spices, vinegar and sugar into a large stainless-steel pan. Heat to dissolve the sugar, but do not boil.
3. Pack the onions into clean, sterilised jars. Pour over the vinegar and spice liquid to fill the jars, make sure each jar has pickling spices in and check there are no air pockets. Seal the jars and leave to cool. The onions will be ready to eat after about one month or better if kept for two. Once opened store in a refrigerator.

Chocolate Chip Cookies – Slam dunk

Chocolate Chip Cookies

I'm not the greatest fan of biscuits. There, I've said it. I just can't be bothered buying them, and as I'm not a massive tea or coffee drinker I never seem to have an occasion to dunk my custard cream. And without tea or coffee, it just seems wrong munching my way through a pack – they're a bit dry and, well, just too biscuity for my rather refined palate, and is probably the sort of thing that overweight single women with cats might do. While watching Emmerdale. And don't get me started on those huge tins you see at Christmas, with their fit-inducing colours and never-ending supply of sickly pink wafers.
However, there is one exception to this apathy to biscuits, and that's the good ol' chocolate chip cookie. They're just another biscuit-eating experience altogether – doughy, softer and I don't keep on finding crumbs on my cashmere jumper hours later. Easy to make with the kids and a real hit at The Albion Tavern, here's a recipe for Chocolate Chip Cookies (although they call them Chunk Cookies) from The Great British Bake Off. Makes 24.

Ingredients:
125g unsalted butter, softened
50g caster sugar
50g light brown muscovado sugar
1 large free-range egg, at room temperature
1/2 tsp vanilla extract
150g plain flour
good pinch of salt
1/2 tsp baking powder
50g pecan nuts, finely chopped
100g good-quality dark chocolate chips, at least 70% cocoa solids
icing sugar, for dusting

Method:
1. Preheat the oven to 190C/375F/gas 5. Put the soft butter in a bowl and beat with an electric mixer until creamy. Add the sugars and beat well until fluffy. Lightly beat the egg with the vanilla and gradually beat into the mixture.
2. Sift the flour, salt and baking powder into the bowl and mix well with a wooden spoon. Add nuts and chocolate and work in until combined.
3. Put heaped teaspoons of the dough onto greased baking trays, spacing well apart to allow for spreading (do in batches if necessary). Bake for 8-10 minutes or until the biscuits are lightly golden with darker brown edges. Rotate the trays half-way through baking to ensure even cooking.
4. Remove from the over and leave to cool slightly and firm up before transferring to a wire rack. Allow to cool completely, then dust with icing sugar. Store in an air-tight container.

Belgian Christmas Beer – Ale have some of that

Belgian Christmas Beer

My first foray into drink at The Albion Tavern and it's actually something I've done a couple of times before with varying degrees of success. Last Christmas I received the sort of joyous gift that a man of my age had thought had long disappeared since the days of Eagle Eyes Action Man and Tin Can Alley. "What possibly could this heavy box be?" I wondered child-like while tearing at the wrapping. Socks and hankies this was not. No, what this present contained was a heavy-duty plastic cube, a plastic piece of tubing and the ingredients to make 20 pints of strong continental lager, courtesy of Brupak. To paraphrase Her Majesty The Queen later that very day: "Merry fucking Christmas."
I got straight to work brewing my beer, the mouth-watering hoppy and malty smells mingling with turkey, ham and stuffing. Unfortunately, brewing is a patient process and long after the Christmas balloons had deflated to such a degree that they resembled the sort of bosom last seen on Bruce Parry's Tribe, I was still beerless. Six weeks later, however, when most of my friends and colleagues were going through the annual Januray/February detox, I was getting ready to tuck into 20 bottles of Bavarian pilsner. It was good, not as clear as I'd have like and a little heavy, but definitely strong enough to brighten those dark, winter nights.
I've since gone on to make a London bitter, which was truly stupendous, another batch of Bavarian pilsner, which was truly awful (something went wrong, 20 bottles poured down the sink. I cried for hours), and am now embarking on a Belgian Christmas ale, which will hopefully be ready in time for this year's festive blow-out. And if I get socks and hankies again, at least I'll be able to drown my sorrows.
As I say, the brewing process is quite lengthy, but the first stage is outlined below. I'll outline stage two in about 10 days' time.

Method:
1. In a large saucepan bring 2-3 litres of water to the boil and turn off the heat. Place the unopened can of malt in the hot water and leave for 15-20 minutes for the extract to soften.
2. Place the bags of grains and hops/spices into a jug or bowl and cover with 1 litre of boiling water. Leave for 15 minutes, then pour the liquid into the polythene cube. Cover with water again, leave for 5 minutes, then pour the liquid into the cube.
3. Carefully remove the can of malt and open. Gently squeeze and pour contents into the cube. Rinse can with hot water and pour into cube. Fit the cap to the cube and shake to mix contents.
4. Remove cap and fill cube with cold water. Replace cap and shake. Allow liquid to cool to between 15C-22C, then add the yeast. Shake thoroughly.
5. With the cap uppermost, fit the tubing to the tap. Fill a milk bottle or pint glass with water and place next to tube. Open the tap and immerse the tube into the water. CO2 bubbles will now pass through the water. Leave for 10 days until the bubbles have stopped.

Cottage Pie – A cottage industry

Cottage Pie

Ok, I'm not going to patronise you all about how to make cottage pie (or shepherd's pie for those who favour the lamb version). It's one of the easiest dishes to make and despite there apparently being a traditional recipe, let's be honest, it's one of those dishes that's all the better for our own quirks. Some people swear by the addition of baked beans, while tomatoes, Marmite or a Cheddar topping to the mash are popular variations.
All I'm doing here is taking a classic British dish and trying to make it the best way I can, good enough to serve to customers of my virtual gastropub, The Albion Tavern. I have to say the result was pretty darn good. Try it with shin of beef rather than mince – it really does make a difference to taste and texture.
Most of my research was done for me, thanks to a great article by The Guardian's Felicity Cloake, which examined the recipes of top chefs and came up with the perfect cottage pie. I pretty much went with the final recipe, with a few minor changes: I think cottage pie needs a bit of tomato purée to add depth to the flavour and also enhance the colour; I've extended the initial cooking time, again to enrich the flavours and also to thicken the sauce (making the cornflour, which can give the sauce an anaemic colour, redundant); and I've added grated Cheddar to my mash topping. Sheer madness to leave this out.
Basically, this is comfort food at its best, ideal for a pre- or post-Bonfire Night party.

Ingredients:
600g shin of beef
150g butter
2 onions, diced
2 carrots, diced
2 stick celery, diced
1 tsp dried thyme
350ml good beef stock
1 tbsp tomato purée
4 or 5 splashes Worcestershire sauce
1kg Maris Piper potatoes
salt and pepper
50g Cheddar cheese, grated

Method:
1. Cut the beef into chunks and pulse in a food processor until coarse.
2. Heat a knob of butter in large pan and gently fry the onions, carrots and celery until softened.
3. Stir in the thyme and add the beef. Turn up the heat and stir until browned.
4. Add the stock, purée and Worcestershire sauce, cover and simmer for one hour or until the sauce is thick. Pour into oven-proof dish and allow to cool in the fridge. This will make adding the mash easier later on.
5. Pre-heat the oven to 180C. Peel the potatoes, quarter and place in a pan of cold water.
6. Bring to boil, then simmer until soft. Drain, then allow to steam dry in a colinder.
7. Gently melt the remaining butter in a pan. Mash the potato (you can use a ricer here if you want your mash to be super smooth). Add the melted butter, stir gently to form a creamy mash and season to taste.
8. Spoon on top of the meat mixture and smooth right to edges. Use a fork to make ridges in the mash and top with the grated Cheddar. Cook in the oven for 45 minutes or until the topping is crisp and golden.

Great British Food Revival – Beef and Shellfish

Great British Food Revival

How many shots of a cow's shitty arse can you fit into one half-hour TV programme? That was the question posed by John Torode, restaurateur, Masterchef judge and lover of all things beef, on last night's British Food Revival on BBC2. Sorry, what do you mean that wasn't the question? Look, there's a shitty arse over there. Hold on, if you look behind that posh bloke in wellies there's another...
Ok, so the real question posed by Torode in series two of this excellent show into the promotion of British ingredients (Mr Oliver, take note), was how can we preserve the UK's dwindling rare-breed cattle? The answer, somewhat ironically, is to eat more of the shitty-arsed buggers. And after watching Torode expertly and lovingly create three very different dishes from three different cuts of beef, including a delicious-looking shin of beef stew with star anise, I can't argue with that. Although, god knows how much his fore-rib of beef set him back...
The second-half of the programme saw the very likable Valentine Warner wax lyrical about mussels and cockles. Warner is certainly not a TV natural, coming across as slightly uncomfortable in front of the camera, as if he's just as much surprised to be there as we are to see him. But his passion for ingredients and skill in the kitchen are evident and made me realise I don't eat enough shellfish, especially mussels, which I suppose, is the point of the programme.
He's also a very good actor and seemed very reluctant at one point to tuck into a cockle dish cooked by a female fishmonger, which looked like it contained rather undercooked bacon and onion. "I'll just try some of the cockles," he diplomatically said before shoveling a forkload of the shellfish into his gob.
I have one complaint, however – the sound of Warner slurping almost sexually at a juicy, plump mussel in its shell had me almost reaching for the sick bag. I think I'd rather stare at the crap-encrusted behind of a Longhorn than hear that noise again, thank you very much.

Halloween Pumpkin Cakes – treat or treat

Halloween Pumpkin Cakes

I have to say I love Halloween and get seriously pissed off by these miserable killjoys, of the type that only seem to be found in England, who bemoan its Americanisation in this country. An egg through the letterbox for these idiots. For a start, I can think of three things that we all should be worshipping at the cloven hooves of satan for when it comes to Halloween and America: Jamie. Lee. Curtis. Halloween's great and my kids, especially my oldest, are little bundles of excitement at least a month before the big night. I mean, what's not to love about kids dressed as skeletons, zombies and vampires (and their mums invariably dressed as rather devilish, er, devils – but that's another story) and ignoring decades of Government-sponsored safety advice by knocking on strangers' doors and asking for sweets?
In our household we also carve Jack o'Lanterns (my best effort pictured above) and use the scooped out pumpkin flesh to make soup. However, this year I found a recipe for Halloween pumpkin cake courtesy of BBC Good Food and thought I could adapt it to make fairy cakes (the batter made 18). Basically the recipe is a carrot cake one, but with pumpkin instead, and was a great success. The cakes were light and airy, with a delicious orange-scented butter cream topping. Will not be waiting a whole year to make these again. Woooooooooo!!!!

Ingredients:
For the cakes:
300g self-raising flour
300g light muscovado sugar
3 tsp mixed spice
2 tsp bicarbonate of soda
175g sultanas
1/2 tsp salt
4 eggs, beaten
200g butter, melted
zest 1 orange
1 tbsp orange juice
500g pumpkin flesh, grated

For the drenching and frosting:
200g soft cheese
85g butter, softened
100g icing sugar, sifted
zest and juice 1 orange

Method:
1.  Pre-heat oven to 180C/gas 4. Like 2 muffin trays with fairy cake cases. Put the flour, sugar, spice, bicarbonate of soda, sultanas and salt into a large bowl and stir to combine. Beat the eggs into the melted butter, stir in the orange zest and juice, then mix with the dry ingredients till combined. Stir in the pumpkin. Spoon the batter into the cases and bake until golden and springy to the touch. It should take between 20-30 minutes but keep your eye on it.

Just out the oven

2. To make the frosting, beat together the cheese, butter, icing sugar, orange zest and 1 tsp of the juice till smooth and creamy, then set aside in the fridge. When the cakes are done, cool for 5 mins then turn it onto a cooling rack. Prick it all over with a skewer and drizzle with the rest of the orange juice while still warm. Leave to cool completely. 
3. Give the frosting a quick beat to loosen, then, using a palette knife, spread over the top of the cake in peaks and swirls.

Rye Bread – Dough, rye, me

Rye Bread

The final component of my great salt beef experiment is the rye bread and I've followed a recipe from David Sax's Save the Deli. I've never really used caraway seed before and I have to say I was nervous by the amount being added, and by the aroma that wasn't that pleasant. Even when the bread came out of the oven (mine needed another 10 minutes cooking time, but I think my dough was originally maybe a bit too moist), the caraway smell was strong, but much more mellow. The taste, however, was divine.

Ingredients:
500g rye flour
500g strong white bread flour
1/2 sachet instant yeast
20g salt
700g warm water
25g caraway seed, lightly cracked

Method:
1. Combine all the ingredients in a bowl with a fork and mix at top speed in a mixer for 7 minutes.
2. Shape into a ball, coat with flour and cover in a bowl in a warm place for 1-2 hours until it is 1 1/2 times its size.

3. Half an hour before cooking, put a baking sheet in the oven and turn up to full. Five minutes before baking, put a small ovenproof dish filled with hot water from a kettle in the bottom of the oven.
4. Turn the dough onto the hot baking sheet and re-shape. I slashed the top a few times with a knife and sprinkled with more rye flour.
5. After 10 minutes drop the oven temperature to 180C and open the door for 20 seconds. Close the door and cook for a further 20 minutes or until the bottom of the bread sounds hollow.
6. Allow to cool before slicing. Or, if you're an impatient little git like me, cut off the end and have a taste.