Harissa chicken with chickpeas, olives and preserved lemons

After 3 months on a cool larder shelf, the long anticipated wait to try my preserved lemons is over. I incorporated them in this suitably North African supper dish, which delivers a nice balance of piquant flavours with a combination of harissa, spices, olives and preserved lemon. I used chicken thighs as I always consider this brown poultry meat to be superior in flavour and more moist than chicken breasts. It is also more economical, an important consideration when using free range chicken. My updates about gardening, fishing and wildlife follow or you can cut straight to the recipe at the bottom of the post.

The Hebridean weather pendulum

The harissa chicken casserole could be eaten at anytime of year.  It has a sunny, refreshing, summery disposition, yet has the depth of flavour and warmth that are reminiscent of casserole comfort required in cold weather. The schizoid personality of the dish then perhaps matches the spring weather here at the moment: wild swings from calm periods with blue skies to short sharp shocks of wild, squally downpours rolling in on weather fronts from the Atlantic.  Then there have been a few days of persistently strong gales of 30-40 mph.  The relentless nature of these days makes dog walking fairly tedious (when facing the prevailing wind, at least) – and as for seed sowing – tricky.  Even the broad beans are likely to be cast out of my hands in the gusts.  Carrots? Forget about it, the seeds would be cast in the wind and likely end up germinating somewhere on the west side of Skye.

Gardening with grit

With another long term forecast for a week of wind and unsettled weather, I have decided to ignore our typically erratic Hebridean spring weather and am determined to make the best of the light nights to get on with planting and sowing. I did, after several attempts, manage to dive out between showers and plant my potatoes, having spent a week of evenings and two weekends digging the soil over in readiness, including removal of 2 huge rocks that had fell into the centre of the old blackhouse from the walls.

The second rock levered out with deer posts – it took us over an hour to remove it

Intact collection of bottles and jars from the blackhouse

Within the walls of the old blackhouse, where there once stood an inn, then a post office (before the war, we think), we gathered quite an inventory: remains of one sheep, 4 broken teapots, countless spoons, bottles and containers, mounds of broken crockery, ink pots and a candlestick!

Planting potatoes is not the most stimulating job, but made that bit more interesting by trying to do so between the showers, looking up, trying to judge when the next one would hit as the black clouds of doom and rain sheets approached from the west. The best indication is always the preceding acceleration in wind speed, the blast serving as a warning that you are most likely to get pounded by heavy rain at any second. Then it is over in minutes, sunshine and fragments of blue sky allowing a window of opportunity for more planting.

Frustrating as this was, I had no excuses to prevent me from getting on with organising the polytunnel for the coming season.  Despite a couple of rips which we patched, the tunnel has stood up remarkably well in what is its 4th season.  We feared the plastic would be shredded during the first winter, so we are delighted that the plastic has almost made the anticipated 5 year lifespan, even out here. My chilli and tomato seedlings, raised in a heated propagator are robust and strong.  Pea and beans in sown root trainers will be ready for planting next week and a plethora of herbs have germinated, including 5 varieties of basil that I will sow successionally across the summer.

Strawberries in planters protected in the tunnel

Chillies- 6 varieties

Robust tomato seedlings

I am as organised as I can be for this time of year – for planting at least.  There is a lot of construction, maintenance and repair work to be done – gates to be repaired and built, fruit cage to be constructed, deer fence ongoing, dry stone walling, ad infinitum….  I don’t want to think about all that too much, best focus on one task at a time or the list becomes overwhelming. To add the ‘to do’ list, we have started thinking seriously about the timeline for extending and renovating the house, a task that will become all-consuming next year.

Adverse angling

The initially cold spring, followed by windy weather has impacted on our fly fishing results too and the brown trout are still fairly deep and inactive. A trip to South Uist for a fly fishing competition last week was a damp squib. The beautiful and productive machair loch, Loch Bornish yielded nothing for the 15 or so anglers present – after 5 hours in the cold and wind.  The highlight was a flock of 90 whooper swans present on the loch in the afternoon.

This week’s outing was arguably even tougher.  40 mph winds whipping the line erratically across the choppy waters of the vast Loch Caravat that nestles within the remote interior of North Uist.  Blanked again.  Still, I did get nice views of black-throated divers.  We walked for miles along the west shore of the loch, the only shore we could fish from with the prevailing wind behind us.  Ironically, at the end of the outing The Man Named Sous caught a fish about 10m from where we started fishing.

BBC Outer Hebrides wildlife spectacular

The week, the mobile cinema of the Highlands and Islands, The Screen Machine was here in Lochmaddy, North Uist.  As part of the programme, they offered a special preview of the a new flagship BBC wildlife documentary series, an episode of which is devoted entirely to the Outer Hebrides. The series is called Hebrides: Islands on the Edge (there’s lots of info in this link) and it is part of the BBC’s up and coming ‘Wild Scotland’ series of programmes. The screening featured episode 3, covering the Outer Hebrides and it was indeed spectacular – and a Screen Machine sell out.

The production team of Maramedia have worked on filming this BBC commissioned series for the last 3 years and I have been lucky to be involved with some of their activities, in a very small way.  There have been many contributions from the numerous knowledgeable naturalists across these islands that have helped to support the production team to obtain the spectacular footage.

The director Nigel Pope engaged with local people and naturalists from the start, meeting with the committee of our natural history society, Curracag, which I chaired until recently, calling upon the expertise of our members and very capable naturalists in the wider community.  I also provided some licensing advice for filming of protected birds during the series in my previous job. Nigel and his crew are extremely experienced and knowledgeable about the ecology of the species they film.

He very kindly provided a talk for Curracag members about his work on the series and that of the world renowned wildlife cameramen who shot it.  Nigel and the crew previously worked on other BBC wildlife spectaculars including Big Cat Diaries and Life in the Freezer. At the time of the talk last summer, Nigel had not decided who may narrate the series and was looking for suggestions.  It turns out they did very well in obtaining the services of a high profile Scottish star, actor Ewan McGregor and his narration worked very well on episode 3.

The series is not about hardcore natural history but is excellent eye candy that provides an insight into the character of these islands and their inhabitants. I think the footage in episode 3 captured the essence of the scenery, weather and wildlife of the Outer Hebrides perfectly. Some of the footage, particularly of divers, is incredible.  I have no doubt it will do wonders for wildlife tourism in the Outer Hebrides, which deserves to be put on the map as a special destination to see a unique combination of species in a spectacular setting.  The wildlife and scenery were, after all, key reasons why we ended up living here in the first place. If you have the chance, do watch the 4 part series on the BBC or the web, I’m sure you won’t be disappointed.

Making preserved lemons

And so to the recipes. I have at least 6 different variations on recipes for preserved lemons and have not tried all of them.   I prepared some as a Christmas present for my mum and they worked so well, I could not resist making more when I saw bumper amounts of lemons in a local shop at 20p for 6. The recipe is very simple.  Once prepared, the lemons are best left for at least 2 months.  I left these for 3 months. Here, I have used Ottolenghi’s recipe.

Ingredients

6 unwaxed lemons

6 tbsp sea salt (I use Maldon Salt)

2 sprigs rosemary

1 large red chilli

Juice of 6 lemons

Olive oil

Method

• Sterilise a jar big enough to hold all of the lemons
• Wash the lemons and make a deep cut all the way from the top to the base so you are left with 4 quarters attached at the top and bottom of each lemon.
• Stuff each lemon with a tablespoon of salt, opening up each of the slits and stuffing it in.
• Push them tightly into the jar and leave in a cool place for a week.
• After a week, remove the lid, press down the lemons hard to squeeze out their juice and add the juice of 6 lemons, rosemary and whole chilli and cover with a thin layer of olive oil.
• Seal the jar and leave it in a cool place for a least a month, but the longer the better

You can swap the rosemary and chilli for any appropriate flavour that you like.  I also prepared a batch with coriander and caraway seeds.

Harissa chicken with chickpeas, olives and preserved lemons

This recipe was inspired in part by the availability of my preserved lemons, but also because I have been reading Paula Wolfert’s tome, ‘The Food of Morocco’ to increase my understanding about the delightful cuisine of the country. Her introduction serves to remind the reader that Moroccan ingredients are fairly simple and that some amazing food can be made from a few well selected cheap cuts of meat, combined with herbs and aromatics and pulses and grains to produce honest dishes with incredible depth of flavour.  I try to incorporate those ingredients that typify this ethos here.  I think I am at the beginning of the process of understanding Moroccan food.  I have a long way to go, but will relish the journey.

Chick peas – try to find time to soak and boil dried chick peas in preference to tinned. They are worth the extra effort as they have a much deeper more intense almost meaty flavour.

Harissa – This is easy to make, but on this occasion I used some authentic Moroccan harissa paste purchased for about £1 for a big tub from a shop on Golbourne Road, London.

Ingredients

8 chicken thighs, bone in (free range if possible)

200g dried chickpeas, soaked and cooked (or 1 400g tin, drained)

2 tbsp Harissa paste

2 garlic cloves, crushed

1 fennel bulb, finely sliced

1 large onion, finely sliced

1 tsp cumin seeds, dry fried and ground

1 tsp coriander seeds, dry fried and ground

1/2 tsp ground cinnamon

pinch of cayenne pepper

1 tsp sweet paprika

1 preserved lemon, pulp removed, skin rinsed and finely chopped

150 g mixed black and green pitted olives

200ml chicken stock

olive oil

salt and pepper

Preheat oven to 170C

Method

• Season the chicken thighs with salt and pepper and sear them in a casserole dish with some olive oil over a medium heat until lightly browned.
• Remove and allow to drain on some kitchen towel.
• Add the onion and fennel to the casserole dish, then the garlic, cook until soft and translucent. Add the harissa and spices, stir gently.
• Return the chicken to the casserole dish, add the chickpeas, olives, chopped preserved lemon and stock.
• Put in the oven for 45 minutes to allow all the flavours to infuse into the meat and chick peas.  Serve with cous cous and flat bread.

Baileys and Malteser Cheesecake – no bake, of course!

When it comes to cheesecake, the question of whether to bake or not to bake, and which is better, will always divide.  I come down firmly in the no bake, no gelatine camp, although I do admit to enjoying a baked key lime pie.

Perhaps my decision is particularly pertinent this week when I have had a couple of baking disasters in quick succession.  Firstly, a gingerbread misadventure. I didn’t think this was possible, but have now proved myself wrong.  Need to lay off the treacle a bit next time. The second was much more calamitous.  Croissants.  A twelve hour commitment to Michel Roux for nil return.  I know where I went wrong and I will re-visit the subject when I get them right (and when I have the time to try again!).

At the behest of The Man Named Sous, due to the occasion of his birthday, I gave him carte blanche for a menu.  Baileys and Malteser Cheesecake was chosen as dessert, to our unanimous delight.  His favourite cheesecake, and one of the easiest desserts to make – no baking!

Cheesecake has the unfortunate reputation as being something quite ordinary and often synthetic – or maybe that is more from my memory of the shop bought frozen gelatine-set purple topped things that were around in the 1980’s.  Also, despite their long history (reputedly a form of cheesecake was popular in ancient Greece) and varied styles from a diverse array of countries, they still predominate on dessert menus of pubs and chain restaurants much more so than in fine dining establishments.  There is some indication however, that this is changing of late. I noticed vanilla cheesecake has been on the menu at Le Champignon Sauvage in Chelmsford, albeit served with less ordinary salted chicory-root mousse.

The Man Named Sous has been quite literally tied to his workshop bench for the last month, with long days immersed in the world of cello – both making a new cello and restoring an old cello in tandem.  No small undertaking, especially to tight deadlines.

So, it seemed appropriate that the soundtrack for cheesecake-making should be centred around this most divine of all instruments of the violin family (I know, violinists and violists will argue otherwise).  I was reminded of a fantastic concert we attended a few years ago in Selkirk, a friend (and cellist) having invited us to watch Steven Isserlis play with the community orchestra.  We had front row seats, only a few metres from Isserlis who gave a mesmerising performance of the famous Shostakovich Cello Concerto No.1. Isserlis has unfortunately not recorded this concerto, however, we are fortunate to have a recording of the great Rostropovich playing the piece, written for him by Shostakovich and which he premiered for his friend in 1959.  So accomplished and engaging is Slava’s playing of this wonderful concerto, I am listening to it again now.

Of course, that was my memory of what Isserlis played, and I wanted to confirm this with The Man Named Sous.  On asking him what Isserlis played that night he replied “A Strad”.  Typical cello maker!  I suppose it could have been his other cello, a beautiful Montagnana (1740). The Man Named Sous was at that time (as with his current cello) basing his design on this great Italian instrument, so he was very slightly disappointed not to hear the Montagnana played that night.

Ah, there’s few such wonderful memories as music can produce, I digress, so back to the cheesecake.

Baileys and Malteser Cheesecake

I vary the base for cheesecakes. I quite like oaty biscuits instead of digestives and often include a smattering of Grape Nuts for crunch. The ratio of cheese to sugar means this cake isn’t too sweet, so add 20g more icing sugar, if more sweetness is desired.

Ingredients

120g butter, melted

300g digestive biscuits, crushed

600g cream cheese

100g icing sugar

300ml double cream, whipped

A small box of Maltesers – about 3/4 of the contents, crushed lightly

25ml Baileys Irish Cream

Cocoa powder, to dust

Method

• Melt the butter in a pan together with the crushed digestives, mixing well until the biscuits have absorbed the butter.
• Press the biscuit mixture into a springform tin.  I used a 23cm diameter tin, which gives a relatively thin biscuit base, which I was looking for. Allow this to chill in the fridge for an hour or so.
• Beat the cream cheese lightly, add the icing sugar and Baileys.  Whip the cream, although not too stiffly and fold into the cheese with the crushed Maltesers.  Spread across the biscuit base and allow a few hours to set.
• Dust with cocoa powder and serve. Eat any leftover Maltesers. Simple as that.

Wild Hebridean salmon with lemon nasturtium ‘caper’ butter sauce

It was a privilege and proud day indeed when The Man Named Sous caught his first wild salmon on a trip over the Sound of Harris to the Obbe Fishery, Leverburgh, Harris.  This fishery has a number of lochs and pools around the village.  The one which yielded the salmon ‘The Mill Pool’ sits in an incongruous setting, right next to the Co-op car park.  In fact, it is so close to the car park that you have to cast pretty carefully or risk snagging a vehicle, or worse still, the ear of an unwary shopper. Pretty surreal, considering almost all the fishing we do is in wilderness areas of North Uist!

Given the conservation status and fragility of wild salmon populations, good fishery management means at the Obbe, you can only keep one salmon and one sea trout in any outing, all others caught must be safely returned.  So it was that The Man Named Sous carefully landed his 4 lb 5 oz salmon next to inquisitive shoppers and to the whoops and cheers of his Swiss fishing companions.

There were whoops and cheers in our kitchen too when the catch of a salmon was revealed to me – plus a sea trout as well.  The question is how to you honour such a wonderful fish?  It has such delicate flesh and flavour that is unrecognisable from that of farmed Scottish salmon, which I admit I have very mixed feelings about.

No Scottish food blog would be complete without a salmon recipe, would it? Simple is best.  Although a bit decadent for a Monday night, last week we enjoyed the last pair of six fillets from the fish.  It was a moment to reflect on what an honour it was to enjoy eating genuinely wild Scottish salmon these days, especially in the Outer Hebrides where catching one is no mean feat. It was also important to relish the moment.  It will most likely be a very long time before the experience comes round again.

Wild Hebridean salmon with lemon nasturtium ‘caper’ butter sauce

Like many people, I always have a super-abundance of nasturtiums at the end of the summer.  The leaves are used to make pesto and are added to salads with the flowers.  Still, there is always more than enough to collect all the seed I need for the next year and lots left over.  The quandary of what to do with the seeds was solved when, while flicking through the River Cottage Handbook No 2: Preserves, I found a novel way to preserve the seeds, and just at the right time of year. It is remarkable how similar preserved nasturtiums taste to the flower buds of the genuine Capparis plant and all but lose their peppery power.

Nasturtium ‘capers’

Take the green seed pods from your nasturtium plants at the end of the growing season, while they are in optimal condition and before they start to yellow.  Some seeds have a reddish tinge and they are fine to use. The recipe in the Handbook calls for 100g, but this is a lot to aim for, so if you have less, cut ingredients proportionately rather than miss out.

Ingredients

15g salt

100g nasturtium seed pods

A few peppercorns

200ml white wine vinegar

A few seasonal herb sprigs (optional)

Method

• Dissolve the salt in 300ml water to make a light brine and leave the seeds in the brine for 24 hours.
• Drain and dry the seeds, pack into small sterilised jars with a few peppercorns and herb sprig of your choice. Leave 1cm at the top for the vinegar.
• Cover the pods with the vinegar and seal with a vinegar-proof jar lid.
• Store for a few weeks before using.

Cooking the salmon

Use farmed if wild is unobtainable – check the quality/credentials of your source for environmental and welfare standards. The fish should be cooked only for a short period and rested to retain a soft, translucent centre.

Ingredients

Salmon fillets  -1 per person

Salt and pepper

ground nut or other flavourless oil

Heat oven to 80C

Method

• Heat a griddle pan until hot, but not smoking – you are aiming for crisp, seared but not burnt skin.
• Put a small splash of oil in the pan, score the skin a few times and season with salt and pepper.
• Add the fillets to the pan, skin side down.  Leave without interference for 3 to 4 minutes until the skin has crisped. Moving them around before this will most likely result in soggy/broken skin.
• Carefully turn the fillets over and cook the flesh side for around 30 seconds then place the pan containing the fillets in the oven at 80oC.
• The fillets will continue to cook through while resting in the pan for a maximum of 5 minutes.  This will give you time to make the sauce.

Nasturtium ‘caper’ lemon butter sauce

This sauce is very simple and is just about instinct and using your palate to balance the few ingredients, to your taste. The butter makes it rich and thick. The lemon adds zing and the nasturtium brings piquancy.  I would normally add a splash of Noilly Prat at the beginning and let the alcohol cook off, but I have ran out at the moment. In this case, I used approximately these amounts:

Ingredients

1 tblsp. nasturtium ‘capers’

juice and zest of 1/2 a lemon

30g unsalted butter, cold, cut into small cubes

generous handful of parsley

salt and pepper

Method

• Add the lemon juice and zest to a small pan, heated to medium/hot.
• Add the capers, as the contents start to fizz slightly, add the cubes of butter a few at a time, whisking them into the sauce.  Season with salt and pepper.
• Throw in the parsley, stir gently and serve immediately over the fish.

I served the salmon with a warm salad of Anya potatoes with caramelised shallots, sherry vinegar and rapeseed oil.  The carrots were shredded and tossed in Dijon mustard, orange juice with a splash of cider vinegar, rapeseed oil and pepper.

Wild thing, I think I love you….

Rosewater delectation: Pistachio and rosewater meringues with Turkish delight ice cream

I adore floral flavourings; elderflower, lavender, orange blossom and jasmine, but my favourite of all is rosewater. Rosewater has a long and illustrious culinary history. It is a stalwart of Middle Eastern and North African cooking, also featuring in Indian cuisine. When used with restraint, rosewater gives a characteristic flavour and alluring fragrance that takes you straight to the edge of the Med.

Rosewater is the leftover liquid or hydrosol remaining when rose petals and water are distilled together for the purpose of making rose oil, so it is a bi-product. It is also relatively cheap and easy to obtain from delis or wholefood shops and has a reasonably long shelf life, so it is always handy to keep in the store cupboard and a little goes a long way.

Bulgaria produces an estimated 85% of the world’s rose oil and hence is also a key producer of rosewater. I was lucky enough to visit this beautiful country a couple of years ago.  It was a conservation trip to look at how the Bulgarian government manages areas of high conservation value in national parks and other protected sites in Bulgaria, focussing on the Stara Planina in the Balkan Mountains, central Bulgaria, particularly the Central Balkan National Park. The beech, oak and hornbeam forests are stunning, as are the high alpine meadows.  These habitats hold impressive numbers of rare species of invertebrates, higher plants and fungi and I was fortunate to see a diverse range of each.

Coincidentally, driving south from the Balkan Mountains, we travelled through the Rose Valley. This valley is world famous for growing roses and for centuries has been the centre for rose oil production in Bulgaria. We stopped near the town of Kazanlak, centre of the rose oil industry and walked through the rose fields at the peak time for harvesting, early in June.

Bulgarian rosefields in full bloom

The intoxicating scent of the beautiful pink damask roses was everywhere. Honeybees covered the flowers, pollen baskets full, contributing to honey production, another industry that had formed a common sense symbiosis with rose oil production.

Rosewater is a versatile flavour and can be used in savoury and sweet dishes.  It is more aromatic and flavoursome uncooked, but still retains the essence of its aroma and character if cooked.

I have been including rosewater in numerous recipes recently, experimenting in order to get the flavour balance right.  Having some good quality Turkish delight in the house (rose flavour, of course),  I decided I wanted to make Turkish delight ice cream, one of my favourite flavours, but always such a rare find in all but the most comprehensively stocked gelaterias.

My expectation was that this would need careful addition of a little rosewater to the cream, as the Turkish delight was pretty pungent with rose flavour.  To balance this, and again having a look through Ottolenghi, I found the perfect accompaniment – pistachio meringues, a hint of rosewater included.

This is also a thrifty strategy since ice cream uses copious amounts of egg yolks and meringues egg whites, so the recipes marry economically too. The pairing of a cooked and uncooked rosewater sweet treat commenced.

Pistachio and rosewater meringues

This recipe is from Ottolenghi, his first book.  The Ottolenghi outlets in London are famous for their meringues, so after looking at the images, and anticipating capturing some of my favourite flavours within, there was no point in resisting…

The first thing the recipe states is that a good free-standing mixer is essential.  Following the demise of my 1960’s Kenwood Chef, I was without such a gadget.  I didn’t have much choice but to get on with it using my handheld mixer, which was pretty awkward, but worked.

The recipe suggests dolloping the meringue onto the plate of crushed pistachios and rolling it around.  This sounded like something you would need to be well practised at to master, and I didn’t even attempt it as I could only imagine how inelegant it might look.  I opted for the safer option of sprinkling / throwing the pistachios on / at the meringue after spooning them onto a baking sheet!

I cut the recipe ingredients by half.  I thought the quantities were excessive (10 egg whites) and by halving, I could neatly use almost all of the egg whites left over from making the ice cream. This made about 12 moderately large meringues.

Heat the oven to 200oC initially

Turn down to 110oC for meringues

Ingredients

300g caster sugar

150g egg whites (about 5 large eggs)

1 tsp rosewater

30g finely chopped pistachios

Method

• Place the sugar on a baking sheet lined with parchment and heat in the oven for about 8 minutes until hot and dissolving at the edges.
• When the sugar is almost ready, on high speed,  mix the egg whites until they start to froth, about 1 minute.
• Pour the hot sugar slowly over the egg whites.  Once all the sugar is added, add the rosewater.
• Whisk on high speed for 10 minutes or until the mix is cold.
• The mix should be stiff and silky.  Taste to check flavour and add more rosewater, to taste.
• Turn the oven down to 110oC and line a baking sheet with parchment paper, sticking it in place with a bit of meringue mix.
• Dollop the meringue onto the paper.  Yotam recommends the size of an apple, mine were a bit smaller, about apricot size. They expand a lot during cooking so leave enough space between them.
• Crush the pistachios using a food processor and sprinkle over the meringue.
• Place in the oven for about 2 hours.

The meringues should be firm outside and a bit soft in the middle.  They will keep for a few days in an airtight container.

Pistachio and rosewater meringues

Turkish delight ice cream

After much deliberation, last Christmas we gave a present to selves of an ice cream maker.  The Cuisinart professional model we have has a built-in compressor, so is pretty straightforward to use and no need to freeze the bowl beforehand.  You can make this recipe without an ice cream maker, it just requires regular hand churning of the mix as it sets, which can be a time-consuming commitment.

Cuisinart ice cream maker

The Man Named Sous would not mind me saying that he is pretty obsessed with ice cream. I must admit, I was fairly ambivalent to most and pretty selective about what flavours I consume and from where.  Home made ice cream is a revelation and extremely decadent. It should be accompanied by some sort of portion limiter and health warning as it contains shocking amounts of egg yolks, fat (in the form of cream) and sugar.  Oh well, everything in moderation, you only live once, and other similar excuses for indulging oneself.

For this recipe, I used a basic custard as I would for many other ice creams.  I favour the recipe and methods used in ‘The Perfect Scoop’ by David Lebovitz, so have adapted from that. Surprisingly, this marvellous book does not have a recipe for Turkish delight ice cream or my other all time favourite flavour pistachio (to be visited another time).

Makes about 1 litre.

Ingredients

250 ml whole milk

150g caster sugar

500 ml double cream (!)

pinch of salt

6 large egg yolks

1 tsp rosewater

natural red food dye (optional)

8 pieces of Turkish delight, cut into small chunks

A little icing sugar

Method

• Warm milk, sugar and 250 ml of cream and salt in a pan and remove from heat once sugar has dissolved.
• Pour the remaining 250 ml of cream into a large bowl and set a sieve over the top.
• In a separate bowl, whisk the egg yolks.  Slowly pour the warm mixture onto the egg yolks then scrape back into the pan.
• Stir constantly over a medium heat until the mixture coats the back of a spoon.
• Pour the mix through the sieve onto the cream add the rosewater and a couple of drops of natural red food dye (if using) and leave to cool and refrigerate.
• Once chilled, churn in an ice cream maker for about 45 minutes.
• Meanwhile, chop up the Turkish delight and roll the small pieces in some icing sugar to coat them so they don’t clump as you add them to the ice cream. Fold the pieces into the ice cream when it is ready, just before you freeze it.

The meringues and ice cream worked well together and would probably have been enhanced by the addition of fruit.  Mango, plum, peaches or strawberries would work, either fresh or in a coulis.

Next aim is to make my own Turkish delight.

Turkish delight ice cream with pistachio and rosewater meringues

Venison steak and pomme fondant (revisited) with bramble and juniper sauce

After my meal at Howie’s in Edinburgh last week involving venison leg steak and very disappointing faux pomme fondant (conglomerate) and bramble and juniper sauce,  the general dissatisfaction made me obliged to cook my own version of the meal at home at the weekend. The hardship!

I was irrationally upset about the denial of the pomme fondant and all week there was a little ‘je ne sais quoi’ missing from my life.  Good to get these things out of your system, so a culinary cure was called for.

I was determined to make this a ‘Uist meal’ as much as I could and to use what I had by the way of stored veg, or growing veg in the raised beds. Over the last month, the raised beds have been left almost  to manage themselves (with the exception of garlic planting and associated rodent management).

Sprout success – exploding buds pending…

This was telling when I saw to my horror that one variety of sprouts (Darkmar 21 – organic seeds), in their apparently exceptional happiness with the growing conditions were at risk of buds exploding forth from their stems.  Dense packing of the buds had kept a lid on the situation, but intervention was urgently needed. It is the first time I’ve grown a mid-season variety so don’t usually check sprouts until at least December. At least I had found one veg for my meal.

So, for stored veg, I recovered some carrots that were layered in sand in the shipping container.  To leave them outside is to risk sustaining the rat population, as I found out to my chagrin last winter.  I pulled up carrot tops, the root removed by stealth using mole-like tunnelling action below ground.  I suppose it could have been a Were-Rabbit. To keep them safe in the ground I would need “Anti-Pesto”, for that coveted Golden Carrot award to be mine….

I grew a mixture of 3 varieties of carrots this year: a standard Nantes orange variety I plant each year (in case other varieties under test fail me), Yellowstone and Purple Dragon (heritage), for colour contrasts. The dry, cold spring meant I had to work very hard to get them to germinate, but I got there in the end with tenacity and successional sowing.

Carrots stored in a fish box found while beach combing, sand left over from a building project. Recycling is part of life in the Hebrides.

I turned to my stored potatoes to select the best variety for the pomme fondant.  I needed a waxy variety that would retain its shape during cooking, so chose Edgecote purple, a heritage variety first listed in 1916. It has  yellow flesh and purple skin.

This was all a great excuse to use my new wooden vegetable trug, a present from my parents, given to me partly in jest.

Comparisons had frequently been drawn between the beautiful portrayal of the whimsical TV world of English gardening and Uist growing.  In dreamland, baskets and trugs feature large on the arms of presentable maidens donning Laura Ashley and Hunter wellies in leafy cottage gardens, heady with mellifluous scents of deep herbaceous borders. My parents decided a trug was what I needed to enhance my Uist gardening experience.  The real image is one of sporting ‘Uist hair’ in a gale, wearing waterproofs and trying to stop the veg flying out of the trug as you shield it from the gusts and run for the house.

Trug – a gardening icon in Uist. Rachel De Thame would be proud.

 

Venison with pomme fondant, sprouts and bramble and juniper sauce

Most of the ingredients are from Uist – North Uist venison and game stock and all veg, and herbs from the garden, brambles foraged locally in September.  Still working on the chicken stock.  Hard to get birds locally. Best start with the potatoes as they take longest. I didn’t measure anything out for this recipe, so quantities are approximations.  Sorry!  All recipes serve 2, so scale up for more people.

Pomme fondant

Not a dish for the health conscious, but a luxurious occasional treat. This can be a wasteful dish as the pieces are cut from the centre of potatoes. The smallest potato will dictate the size of the pieces, if you want them to be of a uniform size. A 4cm cutter will make a portion of 3 fondants per person, for a 6cm, 2 fondants are enough.  I used the leftover potato pieces to add to chicken, potato and leek soup next day. This also stretched the chicken carcass that provided the stock to make another meal.

Pomme fondant with butter, thyme and garlic.

Set the oven to 190oC

Ingredients:

4-6 largish waxy potatoes

60g of butter

250 ml of chicken stock

salt and pepper

sprig of thyme

garlic clove cut in half

Scone cutter (4-6 cm depending on potato size)

Ovenproof frying pan

Method

• Cut out a cylinder of potato about 2.5 cm thick using the scone cutter.  I used 4 cm cutter, as I wanted a uniform size and my potatoes were quite small. Trim the edges to prevent them sticking in the pan – and to make them look neat.

• Put the butter in the ovenproof frying pan on a medium heat with the garlic and thyme, salt and pepper.

• Once it is melted and starts to hiss and bubble gently, add the potatoes. Turn after 3-5 minutes.  They should be golden and the butter will be turning slightly nutty, but take care that it does not burn.

• When both sides are coloured, add the chicken stock.  Add enough to come about 3/4 way up the sides of the potato.

• Bring to a simmer and place in the oven for 15 -20 minutes.  Most of the stock should by then be absorbed into the delectably soft and flavoursome tattie.

• This leaves time to deal with the venison and sprouts.  I start the sauce at the same time with the potatoes as it needs this amount of time to develop depth of flavour.

Venison topside steak

Thick steaks (at least 1.5 cm) are recommended  for this quick cook method to ensure it is rare and remains so while being rested.

Set the oven to 100oC

Ingredients:

venison steaks, 1 per person

knob of butter

salt and pepper

Method

• Heat a griddle pan until almost smoking and add some groundnut or olive oil.

• Season the venison steaks, place in the hot pan and add a dollop of butter.

• Turn after 3 minutes and cook on the other side for the same time. They should be nicely caramelised with lines across each from the griddle pan.

• Remove from the pan (if the hot griddle pan is placed in the oven, the steak will continue to cook and will be overcooked) and place in a warmed roasting tray and into the oven to rest for about 5 minutes.

Bramble and juniper sauce

It can tricky to get the balance right between fruit acidity and infusion of just enough juniper.  Taste the sauce frequently throughout and adjust seasoning accordingly.  The recipe is a variation of a Michel Roux recipe for juniper sauce.

Ingredients:

2 shallots, finely chopped

200 ml red wine

300 ml game stock

60 g brambles/blackberries

30g butter, cold, diced

4 juniper berries, crushed

1 tsp rowan and apple or redcurrant jelly

salt and pepper

Method:

• Put the red wine and shallots in a pan, bring to the boil at a medium heat and simmer until the wine has reduced by 1/3.

• Add the stock, crushed juniper berries and brambles and simmer for 15 minutes.  Add the rowan jelly and let it dissolve.

• Strain the sauce through a chinois into a clean pan and whisk in the butter cubes a few at a time. Season and taste.  A bit more rowan jelly can be dissolved in at this stage, if required.

Brussel sprouts with bacon and juniper

This is a Nigel Slater recipe from Tender Volume 1. I use it a lot as it has converted me to the delights of sprout eating.  I have adjusted the volume by half and tweaked the sprout cooking from boiling to steaming and cut the number of berries. Serves 2.

Ingredients:

200g brussel sprouts

125g pancetta or smoked bacon

8 juniper berries, crushed

pepper

Method:

• Remove outer leaves from sprouts and retain for garnish (see below).

• Pierce the bottom of each sprout with a knife and place in a steamer.  This will speed up cooking of the harder base.  Steam for about 7 minutes, until just tender.

• Fry the pancetta until crisp and golden and remove with a slotted spoon. Drain on kitchen paper.

• Half the sprouts and add to the same pan, add the crushed juniper berries.

• As the sprouts soften and colour after a few minutes,  add the bacon back into the pan and season.  They are ready to serve.

Carrots

Juliene then steam for 3-4 minutes and toss in butter and some orange juice, add salt and pepper.

Garnish

Deep fry shredded outer brussel sprout leaves in ground nut oil.  Minimise on waste and add a flavour and texture contrast.

Venison with pomme fondant, bramble and juniper sauce with sprouts. Sprouts married with bacon and juniper hit the spot.

Beef cheeks: An aromatic casserole of great comfort

Ah yes, the vogue for cheap cuts of meat is still current, with many top and ‘celebrity’ chefs featuring cheaper cuts and offal in dishes. Somewhat ironically, this has increased demand for cheap cuts like ox/beef cheeks and hence prices of such cuts have risen.  In fact, most of the big four supermarkets now regularly stock beef cheeks at the butchery counter.

This is indicative of the power of the media-savvy chefs (of which there are many) to highlight cuts of meat that have been forgotten and largely consigned to history. Some of these chefs may have lost their integrity along the way (mentioning no names, well, OK, maybe one – Marco Pierre White flogging Knorr ‘stock’. Shameful), but if promotion by influential chefs results in exposing a few more diners and cooks to these ingredients and encourages use of cheaper or more unusual cuts, that’s no bad thing. Diversification of diet is good.

I don’t recall eating beef cheeks before the current vogue but I have now eaten them three times this year.  The first time was at La Garrigue’s Edinburgh New Town restaurant.  I have eaten in La Garrigue a few times (mainly at their original Jeffrey Street place) and I love the rustic Languedoc food they serve. It is hearty and honest. I also return because of the consistent good service.  Beef cheeks were one course served during a ‘Taste of Languedoc’ evening, slow cooked in a Provençal sauce of red wine, tomatoes and olives. Tender and delicious.

The very next night, we visited The Man Named Sous’s sister and by some bizarre coincidence, beefs cheeks were the main course! Spot the foodie. So, I go from never having knowingly eaten beef cheeks to consuming same two days in a row.  I caveat this with ‘never knowingly’ because I have eaten some pretty unidentifiable meat-based meals abroad, the contents of which were lost in translation (although I vividly remember our French-Portuguese neighbour serving up ‘colhões’ – her description, not mine…).

Beef cheeks second time around were however, quite a different flavour experience from the first. The recipe in question was from Richard Cornish and Frank Camorra ‘s Movida Rustica cookbook.  This called for the best part of a bottle of Pedro Ximenez sherry and an equal quantity of red wine – and half a day in an Aga. I must admit, I was impressed with la Garrigue’s take on cheeks, but the second experience was superior (and I don’t think it was anything to do with the quantities of wine consumed in conjunction!).

Of course, obtaining beef cheeks on North Uist is almost impossible. There is no butcher on North Uist or Benbecula and to seek out these cuts would likely involve considerable enquiry and strategic planning akin to The Battle of Britain.  Although it pains me, I admit to taking the easier option and acquired the cheeks from a quality butcher while on a trip to the mainland.

Beef cheeks: two prepared and ready for marinating

Last weekend, the weather was pretty minging and any work outdoors was written off.  What better excuse to spend the day indulging in slow-cooking the beef cheeks? The dish is all about comfort.  I served the beef cheeks with celeriac puree, pastis-braised fennel, carrots with cumin and orange and baby baked potatoes.  I haven’t included the carrot recipe below but it simply oven-roasted carrot slices with a coating of rapeseed oil, a splash of orange juice and a big pinch of roasted cumin seeds, cooked for 25 minutes at 180oC. Potatoes were the wonderful Red King Edward, superb as mini-bakers.

The presentation of this dish is perhaps a bit uncouth, but flavours hit the spot. So, here is my take on beef cheeks et al.

Aromatic beef cheeks with celeriac puree, braised fennel with pastis and seasonal vegetables 

The beef cheeks were cut in half and marinated overnight.  The casserole recipe couldn’t be simpler and requires very little attention during cooking. The beef is so tender after 4 hours that it is hard to lift out of the pot without it falling apart.

Ingredients

Marinade for beef cheeks:

Beef cheeks, about 750 g = 2, feeds 4 people

200 ml red wine

2 tblsp olive oil

2 garlic cloves, peeled and sliced

1 onion, chopped

1 celery stalk, sliced

1 carrot, sliced

1 spring of thyme

2 bay leaves

1 star anise

zest and juice of an orange

a few grinds of pepper

For the beef cheek casserole:

2 tblsp olive oil

500 ml red wine

1 tblsp tomato puree

750 ml beef stock

salt and pepper

Method – Aromatic beef cheek casserole

Set oven to 170oC

Beef cheeks should be ready for cooking after being marinated overnight. Put the olive oil in an overproof heavy-based casserole dish (Le Creuset are ideal).  Remove the beef cheeks from the marinade, brushing off any veg and pat dry with kitchen towel. On a medium to high heat, sear the cheeks on all sides in the oil until browned.  Remove with a slotted spoon, turn heat to medium.

Strain the veg, herbs and spices from the marinade, reserving the liquid and place marinated veg into the pan, cook until soft but not browned.  Place the beef cheeks back in the pot, add the reserved marinade liquid, the beef stock (I used game stock as I had no beef stock), 500 ml of red wine, tomato puree, salt and pepper.

Bring to a simmer, cover with a lid, stick in the oven and leave for about 4 hours until the beef is almost falling apart.

Do check after about 2 hours to make sure that there is enough liquid in the casserole and add a bit of water if it is drying out.  The beef cheeks should remain immersed throughout cooking. They will happily sit on a low heat in the oven while you prepare the rest of the side dishes.

Celeriac puree

Unfortunately, I haven’t successfully grown this faux root so far.  It needs a long time in the ground and I need more growing space first in order to let it luxuriate in the soil long enough to get bigger than the size of a golf ball. The root description is really a misnomer because it is a bulbous hypocotyl, the area of a plant between its stem and roots. The true roots of celeriac are the surface ‘hairs’ that give it a distinctively untidy appearance. Don’t be put of by its looks, it is one of our most delightful root veg.

Ingredients

1 celeriac’root’

500ml chicken stock

100 ml double cream

salt and pepper

Method

Remove the outer surface of the celeriac and cut remainder into cubes about 1cm. Place in a pan with the stock and simmer until tender (about 20-30 minutes).  The stock will reduce down significantly. Add the double cream and simmer for a further 5 minutes.  If it is very liquidy, strain off the excess.  Whizz with a hand blender or in a liquidiser until very smooth and pass through a sieve to get the puree extra smooth.  Check and adjust seasoning, keep warm.

Braised fennel with pastis

The mild aniseed flavour of the fennel is boosted with a splash of pastis and  complements the subtle background flavour of star anise in the casserole.

Ingredients

1-2 fennel bulbs, sliced

30g butter

200 ml chicken stock

1 tsp sugar

1 tblsp pastis (e.g. Pernod, Ricard)

Zest of half an orange

salt and pepper

Method

Slice the bulbs, ensuring you do so along the root (usually the longer axis) so that the slices hold together.  Slices should be about 5mm thick.

Melt the butter in a frying pan on a medium heat and place the slices in as the butter, sprinkle over the sugar to assist in caramelising the slices.

Cook for a few minutes each side until coloured.  Don’t overcrowd the pan, do this stage in batches if need be. They will need to be in a single layer to colour.

Once all slices are coloured, return all to the pan and add the pastis and orange zest.  Let the alcohol cook off for a minute or two then add the stock and season.

Simmer gently for about 10 minutes until tender and serve.

Plating up

I served each half beef cheek on the celeriac puree with lots of casserole gravy and the veg.  I didn’t bother to strain the gravy before serving as it is after all a rustic casserole.  The gravy was thick, rich and intense thanks to protracted slow cooking and should not require reduction or thickening agents.

Aromatic beef cheek casserole with celeriac puree, braised fennel with pastis and seasonal vegetables. Comfort food for a wintery Sunday.