kitchendecanted

There is no love sincerer than the love of food - George Bernard Shaw

Homemade Tantanmen

Is ramen addictive?  I think it maybe is.  There is something about the deeply savoury broth, slippery noodles and fresh toppings that results in me having withdrawal symptoms if I don’t indulge at least once a week.  I’ve had conversations with Weepix along the lines of ‘Well we could move back to the UK, but where will we get decent ramen?’.  Suffice to say I’m a bit of a ramen junky.

Before I even came to Australia I was drooling over blog posts about Sydney ramen shops and noodle bars.  Ryo's Noodles in Crow's Nest became almost like a second home when I lived just round the corner.  It was right between my apartment and the library; not much can compete with the double pleasure of a new book and a deep bowl of miso ramen.  

Alas we've now moved away from Crow's Nest and Ryo's isn't as regular occurrence as it once was.......so it's just as well that my office is five minutes from Ichi Ban Boshi in Galaries Victoria.  I take it as a good sign that both Ryo's and Ich Ban Boshi have long queues outside them every single day without fail.  A restaurant must be doing something right if people are prepared to wait for an undetermined period before being allowed in.  I've got to say it's a master stroke in heightening the anticipation; there we stand waiting for our number to be called, the smell of broth and tapping of chopsticks nearly driving us crazy.  As soon as you're called there is an instantaneous change of mindset from 'hurry the hell up!' to 'I'm going to savour every minute of this and who cares about those still waiting'.  If you want to witness basic human nature then simply observe the queue outside Ichi Ban Boshi. 

Despite the current quality noodle abundance I'm still worried that at some point in the future I may have to do without.  The only solution is to learn how to make some of the best dishes myself.  At Ichi Ban Boshi I'm a freak for the Tantanmen.  A quick Google search results in about a hundred definitions and recipes for tantanmen, but basically it's a spicy pork ramen (often tonkotsu) with sesame, pork mince and various veggies.  It's actually a Szechuan dish but usually served in Japan as ramen.

The recipe I used was a bit of a hybrid of many different sources and I've no idea how authentic it is, but the end result was not too shabby.

The Means

Stock:

  • 900ml of torigara soup stock (or chicken stock)
  • 2 Tablespoons of red miso

The Rest:

  • 1 Tablespoon of sesame oil
  • 1 minced garlic clove
  • 1 minced piece of ginger
  • 1 minced dried chile pepper
  • 1/2 Japanese long onion, minced (substitute scallions)
  • 200grams minced pork
  • 1/2 of a small bamboo shoot, minced (I missed this out)
  • 1 teaspoon tobanjian (Chili bean sauce)
  • 2 teaspoons tenmenjian (Chinese sweet black miso)
  • Noodles

The Method

First cook the noodles, drain, rinse well in cold water and set aside.  Then prepare the stock, add in the red miso, give it all bit of a stir and let simmer for a while.

Next you need to heat up the sesame oil and stir fry the garlic, ginger, chili and scallions.  Give them a minute or two and add the pork mince.  Stir fry until the mince browns and add in the tobanjian and tenmenjian and about 200ml of the stock.  Let it simmer for about ten minutes or so, until the mince is cooked through.  

To serve put the noodles in a deep bowl with your favourite toppings (I like corn, boiled egg, pak choi, bean sprouts, bamboo shoots....not generally all at once though). Pour over enough stock to cover the noodles and then add a few spoons of the pork mince.  

I'm afraid my lack of skill as a photographer is evident with these shots but the final dish was damn tasty.  It didn't have the depth of flavour of the store bought tantanmen but then they actually know what they are doing and simmer stock for hours.  I might try to make some genuine (free range!) pork stock next time and report back how it goes.

 

         
Click here to download:
Homemade_Tantanman_tag_Japanes.zip (3897 KB)

Jamaican Curry Goat

I'm sitting eating one of my all time favourite dishes; left over curry from the night before.  It's one of life's great treats.  I have many happy memories of my later teenage years, waking up with a hangover and finding left over take away Indian food in the fridge.  Take it from me there is no better hangover breakfast.

The curry in question is one prepared using the goat from last weeks meat delivery.   I spent a productive couple of hours last week butchering the whole goat shoulder that had arrived.  As I've never done this before it was a process of trial and error that turned out to be extremely interesting.  Any food related activity that includes the words 'now take your hacksaw' is going to prove a worthy diversion.  Follow the bones with the knife to get as much meat off as possible and then hack up the shoulder and leg bone into decent sized chunks; it's fairly intuitive.  Some of the bony segments didn't have much meat on them, but they's provide loads of flavour.  Well, having gone to the bother of sourcing meat from a goat that had lived a happy life the last thing I wanted to do was waste anything.

After trawling the internet for a few hours there seemed to be about a hundred different 'authentic' recipes for Jamaican Curry Goat.  The common elements seemed to be; scotch bonnets chillies, onions and garlic and Jamaican curry powder.....which itself has about a hundred variations.  This is a bit of a problem.  I'm not shy when it comes to trying out new recipes and seeing what happens, but, as I said above, the entire point of paying more attention to where my meat comes from is lost if I end up making a pile of inedible slop.  To try and prevent this I decided to go with a recipe by Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall.  Now I know that this is likely to result in a non-authentic Jamaican Curry Goat, but I trust that his recipes will at least result in something tasty.  It also means I have a reason to continue scouring for a genuine recipe in obscure cook books and online, which is something I love doing.

I changed a few things from Hugh's recipe to take account of the common elements of other recipes and make use of what I had.

The Means

  • 1.4kg goat shoulder or leg (scrag end, chops and/or shoulder meat) - you could use lamb or mutton, but I'd recommend you try the goat.
  • 3 large tomatoes, skinned and roughly chopped - these seem to be a controversial inclusion 
  • 3 garlic cloves, bashed, then roughly chopped
  • 2 onions, finely chopped
  • 2  birdseye chillies, deseeded and finely chopped - I couldn't find Scotch Bonnets anywhere.  I think their omission may be a Curry Goat cardinal sin!
  • a few good sprigs of thyme (or 1 tsp dried thyme)
  • a good bunch of coriander (leaves and roots)
  • 2 tbsp HP sauce (optional but very authentic) - Can't see how this is authentic, but in it went.
  • Good glug of peanut oil
  • salt
Jamaican curry powder
  • 1 tbsp coriander seeds
  • 1 tbsp black peppercorns
  • 12 cardamom pods
  • tbsp fenugreek seeds
  • 1 cinnamon stick
  • 1 tbsp ground ginger
  • 1 tbsp ground turmeric
  • 1 star anise
  • 1 tsp cayenne pepper
The Method

1. To prepare the curry blend, dry-roast the first 5 spices by tossing them for a couple of minutes in a hot, dry frying pan, then pound in a pestle and mortar or grind in a coffee or spice grinder. Mix with the ginger and turmeric.

2. Cut the goat into good-sized chunks (I prefer 2–3cm thick chunky slices to even cubes; think in terms of 3–4 pieces per person), trimming off only the really excessive fat.

3. In a large bowl (big enough to take the meat), combine 2 level tbsp of the freshly ground spice mix with the tomatoes, garlic, onions and chillies. Strip the thyme leaves off their stalks, bruise with a knife blade and add to the bowl. Finely chop the roots and stalks of the coriander (set aside the leaves for adding to the curry at the end) and add them, too.  Add the HP sauce if you like.

4. Add the meat to the marinade, rubbing the marinade in well with your fingers. You should spend a bit of time over this, working the spices into the meat and enjoying the smell that rises from the bowl. Cover and leave in the fridge for at least 6 hours, or overnight.

5. Remove the meat from the seasoning, knocking off any loose bits of onion or tomato (these will be fried separately later). In a large pan, fry the meat in the butter until it is nicely browned. You’ll need to do this in at least 2 batches.

6. Transfer to a large casserole (in the Caribbean they’d use a cast iron Dutch pot). Then fry the seasoning that you’ve just taken the meat out of – everything that’s left in the bowl – until the onions are softened. Add to the meat in the pot.

7. Deglaze the pan with a little water and add these juices, along with enough extra water just to cover the meat. Add a scant teaspoon of salt. Bring to the boil, then turn it down to the gentlest possible simmer. Transfer to a very low oven (about 120°c/Gas Mark ½), if you like, or cook on the hob, until the meat is very tender.

8. It will need at least 2, more like 3, hours. Serve sprinkled with the chopped coriander leaves, accompanied by plain boiled rice and fried plantains, plus mango chutney or other Jamaican pickles.

This dish is worth cooking for the smell alone.  As soon as those fenugreek seeds hit the pan the whole house smells wonderful.  All in all the whole preparation took about an hour.  It a good dish if you have a few folk coming round as the marinade is best prepared the day before and left over night.

After about an hour of gentle simmering I was getting a bit concerned as it was tasting entirely too watery.  Have faith though.  By the end of hour two the meat was falling off the bone, the sauce had thickened and the flavours were just incredible.  Any bone sections that were still sporting meat were left in while the other sections were discarded prior to serving.  

Served up with Afghan bread, white rice, mango and lime chutney and lime pickle (I could eat this by itself anyway) it had a nice building heat that wasn't overwhelming.  The goat itself is spectacular for curry.  It's not as full flavoured as lamb but absorbs all the spices just as well as lamb does and is incredibly tender.  A couple of cold beers and some good chat with friends rounded things off nicely.  Sorry Mr Goat, but you just became a fixture on the menu.

       
Click here to download:
Jamaican_Curry_Goat_tag_Recipe.zip (18911 KB)

Mushrooms on Toast

You know that mood when you can’t quite place what it is you fancy eating but you know the perfect snack is out there?  It usually means I end up opening and closing the fridge a dozen times as if the answer will suddenly appear, tucked forgotten in the corner wrapped in paper.  Inevitably I’ll end up grabbing something that doesn’t really hit the spot and grumble ‘that wasn’t what I wanted at all!’.  The other day though was one of those times when inspiration struck and the solution was perfect;

 

Mushrooms on toast.

 

It’s the perfect snack; cheap, simple and quick to make and utterly delicious.

 

The Means


  1. Mushrooms – I usually go for the big flat field mushrooms for this. 
  2. Bread – I like sourdough or something wholemeal with loads of seeds.
  3. Extra virgin olive oil
  4. Butter – just a little
  5. Parsley
  6. Garlic
  7. Lemon – optional

The Method


  1. Heat up the oven (about 200°C/ gas mark 6 will do it) and put the mushrooms on a baking tray.
  2. Put a wee bit of butter in each mushroom with some garlic (either microplaned or finely chopped).  Drizzle some oil over.
  3. Bung in the oven for about 10-15 minutes.  They go nice and dark the smell will be great!
  4. Chop up the parsley and mix it with a squeeze of lemon juice.
  5. Put your toast on just before the mushrooms are done.
  6. Put the cooked mushrooms on the toast, spoon over a bit of parsley and lemon and then scoff the lot.

I know, I know, it’s hardly haute cuisine but it’s damn tasty and really easy.  They’re fantastic as a snack, a light dinner or a side for the barbecue.  They can also be done them as a starter but take it easy with the portions or their won’t be….mushroom for anything else…..no?.....ok, I’ll get my coat.

Harira Soup

It’s a grey day in Sydney folks.  A chilly twenty degrees (as a man born and bred in Edinburgh I never thought I’d make that statement), lots of low cloud and the threat of rain.  Perfect.

Perfect?  Let me clarify; I left the UK to get away from the endless grey, but there must be something genetic in me that requires it every so often.  Growing up in Scotland instilled in me an almost panic like response to sunshine ‘Quick!  Sun!  Let’s get out there and use it’.  I brought this to Sydney with me where the frequency of the sunshine means it’s hard to take it easy sometimes.  So a grey day is the perfect excuse to do nothing.  Kick back, watch a movie and, of course, plan an evening meal.

The greyness of the day naturally steers my thoughts toward something hearty and warming for dinner.  This is a bit of a novelty after a long summer of salads, seafood and simple light dishes. 

Deciding is half the fun of course, so the cook books come out and the browsing begins.  Nothing is catching my eye though; don’t fancy Indian, don’t want a roast, can’t be bothered with Bolognese (although it’s a close call). 

Then I remember a recipe for Harira Soup in an old edition of Gourmet Traveller Wine magazine and its case closed; a big steaming bowl of spiced lamb with pulses and vegetables, scooped up onto warm chunks of Afghan bread and eaten with generous dollops of tzatziki ticks all the boxes.

It’s one of those dishes that’s a pleasure to spend some time making.  Lots of chopping and measuring and then a satisfying process of combining ingredients as the smell of spices and lamb mingleA.

I’ve altered a few things in the recipe below and it’s a dish that is fairly robust to tinkering.  This makes enough for six hungry people.

The Means

For the soup:

  • 2 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil
  • 2 onions – finely chopped
  • 2 celery stalks – de-stringed and finely chopped
  • 2 carrots – peeled and finely chopped
  • 3 cloves of garlic – can you guess?  That’s right, finely chopped
  • 500g leg of lamb cut into 1-2cm chunks. 
  • 1 tbsp ground cumin
  • 2 tsp ground turmeric
  • 2 tsp sweet paprika
  • 1 or 2 cinnamon sticks
  • 2 bay leaves
  • 1 tsp tomato paste
  • 1 litre of chicken of veggie stock
  • 1 tin of chopped tomatoes or 4 or 5 chopped fresh tomatoes
  • 1 tin of chickpeas
  • 120g lentils – rinsed
  • Flat leaf parsley, fresh coriander and a lemon to serve.

For the tzatziki:

  • Natural yogurt
  • A cucumber
  • 1 clove of garlic
  • Some salt flakes
  • Optional lemon, dill, mint, parsley….anything else you think might work

It looks like a lot, but if you take out the spices it’s just a bit of lamb, some veggies and a tin of chick peas.  Recipes like this, and a dozen others I can think of off the top of my head, are one reason it’s worthwhile to invest in a decent spice cupboard.  Once you have the spices sorted the rest is easy.

The Method

  • Heat the oil in a large pan.  Add the onions, celery and carrots and sauté for about 5 minutes until soft.
  • Add the garlic and the lamb and sauté for a further 5 minutes until the lamb is browned.
  • Add the cumin, turmeric, paprika, cinnamon, bay leaves and tomato paste and stir well, coating the lamb with the soice mixture.
  • Add the stock, bring to the boil and then cover and simmer over a low heat.

Let it simmer for about an hour.  When the lamb is tender and cooked it’s done.

  • Add the tomatoes, chickpeas and lentils and cook for a further 30 mins.  Add a bit mo re water if it’s getting too thick.

Add the seasoning when it’s done and serve it with chopped parsley and coriander and a lemon quarter.  It’s great with warm fat breads and cool, creamy tzatziki.

To make the tzatziki simply grate the garlic clove into the yogurt, add the chopped chunks of cucumber and some salt.  The other stuff is up to you. 

Wine:

We opened a 2007 House of Straw Shiraz from Piggs Peake in the Hunter Valley with this.  I have a soft spot for Piggs Peake as it was the first place that I ever got to do some barrel tasting.  Luckily they also make cracking wine. 

The House of Straw is a beautiful purple colour and has a nose of blackcurrant and brown sugar with a little bit of liquorice hiding at the back.  The blackcurrant follows through to the palate nicely and there is definitely a bit of stewed plum and rhubarb.  It’s a great bottle for $26.

                 
Click here to download:
Harira_Soup_tag_Recipe_Morocca.zip (5152 KB)

Apple Crumble and Thoughts of Home

It’s strange that after years of complaining about the bleak, Scottish weather, now that we find ourselves in almost perpetual sunshine, it turns out that I miss the cold.  The clocks have gone back here in Sydney and, whereas back home this would mean markedly darker evenings and thoughts turning to casseroles, clementines and Christmas, on this side of the world it happens in April.  There’s no anticipation of the crunch of frost underfoot or the first flurry of snowflakes.  No digging out the winter woollies and adjusting the central heating timer.  It’s still warm enough to go to the beach but it might be a tad cold in the sea.  This Southern-Hemisphere living takes some getting used to…

To allay the sudden feelings of homesickness brought about by reading Nigel Slater’s excellent  ‘The Kitchen Diaries’, I decide to make a crumble.  The aroma of apples baking under a sweet blanket of sugar, butter and flour can do nothing but alleviate the symptoms and soothe the soul.

The last few times I have made crumble, the filling has been dense and sticky but a little lacking in juices for my liking.  This time I decide to mix in a large handful of the blueberries lying hitherto forgotten in the back of the freezer.  Their deep purple oozings mix rather prettily with the pale apple flesh. I am under strict instructions from Pete to make the crumble extra thick (it’s his favourite part), but you may feel you want more of a dusting than a drift.  Ordinarily I would serve this with a dollop of crème fraîche (a steal at only $15 a tub from David Jones food hall), but I settle for good vanilla ice-cream instead. 

5 Granny Smith apples (or any other apple you fancy)

Generous handful of berries, fresh or frozen (optional)

150g unsalted butter (cold)

1 tsp baking powder

170g plain flour

About 5 dessert spoons of caster sugar (if it’s vanilla sugar then all for the better)

1 dessert spoon brown or Demerara sugar for the top (optional)

Vanilla ice-cream or (wickedly) fresh whipped cream to serve

I peel, core and chop the apples before tossing them in a saucepan with about 40g of the butter, and sprinkle a generous 2 tablespoons of the caster sugar over the top.  I’m miffed that I no longer have a jar of vanilla sugar sitting on my counter; it’s so handy whenever vanilla essence is called for in a recipe.  Get one of those large glass jars with the rubber seal, fill it with caster sugar, fling in a slightly bruised vanilla pod or two and you’re away.  Just keep topping up the sugar as you use it – it only takes a couple of days to infuse.  Oh, and you’ll need to shake it from time to time.

Anyway, I cook down the apples in their buttery juices for about 7 minutes (I like them smooshy in crumble) and then fling in the blueberries and give a gentle stir until all is vibrant.  I tip this into an available deep pie dish and set about making the crumble.  The remaining butter is cubed and added to the flour and baking powder in a bowl and then rubbed lightly between thumb and forefingers to create ‘breadcrumbs’.  I vaguely recall doing this in a food processor and it working equally as well, but today it’s therapeutic to stand massaging the ingredients for a while.  Not to mention the fact that the food processor is still back in the UK.  Three scant tablespoons of caster sugar get mixed into the crumbs and then all gets scattered on top of the filling.  The brown sugar can be added to the top to give a final crust, but sometimes I find that it’s sweet enough already.  It’s all a matter of taste.  Bake in the oven at 190 C for about 35 minutes.  The result?  Comfort food extraordinaire! 

           
Click here to download:
Apple_Crumble_and_Thoughts_of_.zip (3494 KB)