Archive for February, 2007

Different beers, different ideas

Wednesday, February 28th, 2007

I have a selection of friends all of whom enjoy the odd beer. It always amazes me to discover just how differently each of us views beer, however. For example, I mostly prefer a lager, but I know several people who laugh at lager drinkers as though they’re an underclass compared with ‘real ale’. I’ve always found the fizziness of lager to be rather attractive as well as the fact that it’s often served cold. A real ale is usually slightly chilled because it’s been kept in the cellar, but not cold enough for me. I must admit, however, that real ales do tend to have rather a lot more different flavours than the inexpensive lagers, but strangely enough, I’m not very interested in that despite my wine preferences.

One of my friends is a member of a drinking society which gets together about once every two months in order to drink fourteen pints of Stella Artois each between about 7pm and 11.30pm. Personally, I rarely want to drink more than one pint of beer at once, if only because of the capacity issue. I also don’t think you can possibly enjoy drinking such a huge quantity of any booze, squashed into the short time. It’s more than three pints per hour! They also have a game which you lose if you must go to the toilet first out of the group.

Sometimes a friend will tell me that a particular real ale is very interesting, in which case I’ll order half a pint to see if they’re right. I remember one from not so long ago, called Old Peculier. That rarely happens with lagers, because there is usually only a selection of four or five different well-known brands in bars and pubs, so I’ve tried them already. But there is a bar called All Bar One which often has an interesting selection of lagers from across Europe, particularly Czech beers (often a favourite). Well worth a visit if you’re a bit bored with Carlsberg or Fosters.

Cambridge each year has a Beer Festival, about which there’s a blog in the archives. The amount of completely unbelievable different types of beers in different styles is astonishing. Some of them are nearly 10% by volume and thick and treacly. Not my cup of tea, as they’re amazingly bitter, too, but some people seem to enjoy it! The strongest beer I’ve found in pubs is Leffe, at 6.6% and most places serve it by the half pint and charge about three quarters of what you’d pay for a normal full pint. It’s quite sweet and very biscuity. Then there’s Hoegaarden, a Dutch white beer, very pale with gentle flavours, sometimes like bubblegum, in which I always insist on a slice of lime to give it a slightly sharp edge.

Native American cornmeal pudding

Wednesday, February 28th, 2007

This recipe, which my friend Cathy spotted in the New York Times and asked me to make, is actually called Indian Cornmeal Pudding. I am not an enthusiastic baker, so was a bit wary of trying my hand at this one, but it was ridiculously easy – especially if you’ve got American cup and spoon measures to hand (which I hope you do).

First, preheat your oven to 300 Fahrenheit or 150 Celsius and grease an 8- or 9-inch square gratin dish or baking dish (a brownie pan would be just about the perfect size, though I’d prefer an enamel or earthenware dish). Then, in a saucepan over medium heat, place 3.5 cups of whole milk. Add half a cup of molasses and three quarters of a cup of sugar to the milk, stirring to incorporate all ingredients. Lower the heat.

Slowly sprinkle half a cup of cornmeal (or dry polenta) over the sweet, warm milk, stirring or whisking while you do so. Take care to break up any lumps (I didn’t have any). The mixture should thicken after ten minutes or so over this low heat – if it doesn’t, increase the heat slightly and wait a couple of minutes to see what happens, being careful not to let anything burn. (Do not let it get to a porridge state; you want more of a thick, grainy soup consistency.) After it has thickened, add one teaspoon of ground cinnamon, half a teaspoon of ground ginger, half a teaspoon of salt, and three tablespoons of butter. Turn off the heat.

Turn the warm, thickened mixture into the buttered dish, then pour another half a cup of whole milk on top of it. Do not stir. Bake for two and a half to three hours, or until the pudding is set – if your oven runs hot, check on proceedings after two hours.

This can be served warm, cold, or at room temperature, and should keep for several days if well-wrapped and refrigerated. But let’s be serious: This will not hang about for several days. Cathy and I, with a help of a friend, finished off the entire dish in one sitting. (The friend, who has been a drummer for decades, also got the task of hand-whipping the cream to go on top of the pudding. He did a better job than either of us could have.)

Spinach and mushroom soup – the Madsen variation

Wednesday, February 28th, 2007

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That soup of Jackie’s sounded so good I had to make some. For my version I fried the onions and mushrooms in olive oil and then added them to vegetable stock before zapping in the blender. I used frozen leaf spinach, which I separately added to stock before blending. I did them separately because I wanted the spinach pretty creamy, but the mushroom and onions with more texture and small lumps. I mixed them together and brought up to simmer, then added garlic and black pepper. Finally I stirred in half a tub of crème fraiche. I let it simmer for about 5 minutes to let the flavours blend before serving it. Good heavens! It was delicious, and so fresh to smell and taste.

Dumplings revisited

Tuesday, February 27th, 2007

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After a not so successful first attempt at fried dumplings, I gave them another go. This time I decided to buy the small pancakes rather than make them myself, and it made everything a lot easier. I went with my girlfriend to the excellent ‘Oriental City’ in Colindale, north-west London, and we bought 20 small pancakes in the supermarket at a cost of £1.25.

The rest was easy. I sprinkled a little flour on each pancake to prevent them from sticking in the pan. I added a small amount of minced pork to each pancake along with some finely sliced white cabbage, and then sealed at the top using a little bit of water. A couple of minutes in the frying pan, and they were done. I served them with a little soy sauce to moisten them.

To accompany the dumplings I had cucumber mixed with garlic, red chilli and salt. It was certainly more exciting than the rather bland cucumber I have had in the past.

The wine was a Laroche Chablis (2005) which had a bronze medal to its name, but on this occasion the dumplings were the most enjoyable part of the meal.  

Chicken paprika

Tuesday, February 27th, 2007

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It was nice. I put lean, skinless chicken breasts into a greased casserole dish. Into a stove top pan I put chopped onions, then aubergine, red, yellow & green peppers, mushrooms, and courgettes. I added half a pint of chicken stock, a few squeezes of black pepper and cayenne pepper, then a liberal dose of paprika. I’d intended tomato purée, but found an old bottle of date-long-expired ketchup with an inch or so left, so I used that instead. Everything from the pan went to cover the chicken in the casserole dish. On went the lid for an hour in the oven.

It was very good, with the tastes all blended into everything, and a nice tomato sharpness to the chicken. I drank a 2001 Château La Girarde a/c Bordeaux alongside, and finished the meal with some fresh blueberries and crème fraiche. The dish requires little preparation, and is virtually idiot-proof. It makes a nice change from plain casseroles.

Cream of spinach and mushroom soup

Tuesday, February 27th, 2007

The fun of cooking for my friend Cathy in Los Angeles continues. Unfortunately, Cathy is unwell and needs to gain some weight. You know what this means? Cream and butter ahoy!

I made another simple soup which will serve as a starter for our dinner tonight, and this is one which definitely improves with the inclusion of the fatty stuff. It’s a creamy spinach and mushroom soup, and it could not be simpler to make: Fry some onions, garlic, and a pound of chopped mushrooms in olive oil and butter until soft; add one pound of washed baby spinach, cover, and let wilt in steam; pour in two cups of unsalted chicken stock and another four cups of water, and let simmer for about ten minutes. Let cool somewhat, then blitz with a handblender until the soup reaches the consistency you desire (I like to leave some bits of mushroom, but no bits of spinach, which can hang awkwardly off a spoon). Season to taste, then add cream and a bay leaf, stir, and re-heat for serving. More cream at the end will definitely be a good thing.

Leaving party

Monday, February 26th, 2007

My housemate Peter (the recent anotherfoodblog celebrity) will soon be moving to Dublin to start work with Google. In celebration of this fine achievement, he hosted a party on Saturday night to enjoy a final farewell to most of his university friends. It was a great party with lots of fun personalities, probably somewhat helped along by the presence of a few drinks.

Most people brought a bottle of wine along, some people brought beer and the odd person actually brought some party-snacks. The best deal was sixty half-pint (284ml) bottles of Stella Artois, picked up at the local Sainsbury’s for just £20. That’s two-thirds of a pound per pint, whereas normally in a pub you’d expect to pay at least £3. Reassuringly cheap…

Oscar dinner

Monday, February 26th, 2007

I’m in Los Angeles visiting my friend, the journalist Cathy Seipp, for a few days. We watched the Oscars yesterday (which is still today for me) with some friends, and it was quite bizarre to have them on the television when it was still quite light outside. Actually, it was quite bizarre to have them on the television at all, as I haven’t watched that mess in years.

I’ve been looking forward to visiting Cathy, as I knew she’d let me cook for her. Today I made a cauliflower soup, which we reheated when the Oscars started. It’s a simple soup: Boil an entire head of cauliflower, cut into florets, until tender; fry an onion and a few cloves of garlic until soft and translucent; add the onion and garlic to the cauliflower and its cooking water, along with a large, peeled, cubed potato, salt and a large dollop of Dijon mustard, and simmer 15 minutes before blitzing with a hand blender. Add cream for a richer soup (we did), and serve with freshly ground black pepper and shredded Cheddar cheese stirred in and melting.

After a few more awards, I went back into the kitchen and prepared some trout I’d bought that morning. (You’ll understand how huge these trout fillets were when I say that I got enough fish to feed eight people out of only two of them.) I poached them in a mixture of citrus-infused soy sauce, the juice of one Meyer lemon, the juice of a standard lemon (picked from one of Cathy’s many citrus trees), sweet Thai chilli sauce, minced ginger, and minced garlic. I made some Japanese glass noodles to go with this, and stir-fried some broccoli, snow peas, carrot slices, bok choy, mushrooms, red peppers, and onion in a bit of olive oil and the juice of another of Cathy’s lemons.

For dessert, everyone munched on the Fortnum & Mason selection of Piccadilly biscuits I’d brought from London. I have no idea if these really go with the other two courses, but with lemon curd, stem ginger, chocolate pearls, and macadamia nut cookies, it’s pretty hard to go wrong.

Cocoa on the brain

Sunday, February 25th, 2007

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I was intrigued by last week’s news about cocoa. Apparently hot cocoa is enriched with flavinols which can boost brain power and combat heart disease and cancer. A Nottingham University team found that cocoa increases blood supply to the thinking part of the brain. This suggests it might improve brain function in those suffering some cognitive impairment related to age or fatigue.

I regard cocoa as a night-time drink, a comforting and relaxing drink, something you might have before bed. In a restless, sleep deprived night, I come down, make a mug of cocoa, and spend maybe an hour reading or scanning the internet while I drink it. It usually helps me to sleep.

Although I much prefer dark chocolate, I take my cocoa made with milk, usually semi-skimmed goat’s milk. I don’t add sugar, though I did as a child. I have to say that I’m not aware of it making my brain more active, but I am heartened to read that the Kuna Indians of Panama who drink a type of cocoa rich in flavanols have significantly lower rates of both heart disease and cancer. All that, and it tastes nice, too!

Crocus and smoked bacon

Sunday, February 25th, 2007

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Spring is in the air. The mornings are lighter, and the fields at the back of Trinity College are a purple blaze of crocus plants. I didn’t eat any of them, though I watched a moorhen contentedly nibbling on them. I had something different in mind for lunch. It was a smoked ‘bacon’ I picked up in Normandy last week. It was unlike any other smoked bacon, in that it was not in rashers. It came in slices of about 3.5 inches diameter, and totally lean except for a tiny sliver of white fat at one edge. It had been smoked in beech wood, with a little glucose syrup. The other difference is that you don’t cook it – the smoking has already done that.

I had it with a crunchy salad of lettuce, peppers, tomatoes, mushrooms, spring onions, anchovies, olives, and with a little feta and bleu d”Auvergne cheese. The ‘bacon’ was very delicate, without the heavy aromatic reek you sometimes get with smoked food, and with an agreeably chewy texture. Decidedly different, and a very pleasant change.