Cooking the Books

    As I sit in the late night dark of my office; lit only by monitor’s harsh glow, I am stumped.  How, by Marco’s unruly mane or Gordon’s furrowed brow can I even attempt to condense my vast collection of cookbooks into ten that stand above all others?  Those most worn would indicate the most use.  Those like new might have found a place of high esteem, a desire to keep their superior photos in top form or to cement their coffee table status.  However sliced; this list will be in no way definitive, but you can be sure they’ll all be worth a purchase.
    What of cookbooks?  Why is it that a nation not known for its home cooking often finds the culinary arts topping the bestseller charts?  A large part of the answer may be found in the very question.  The popularity of chefs/cooks/celebrities and their glossy offspring are at the very forefront of current British culture and everyone has to have the latest Jamie, Hugh, Gordon or Nigella.  The zippy MTV style programs that often pre-empt the books certainly aid the process along.  Sex sells and riding the rails of just how the lighting hits Nigella as she pours silken chocolate sauce whilst grazing an expectant digit, or the barely contained overload of testosterone a la Ramsey all hit their intended marks.  Whether you fancy the unfussy bish bosh blah of Jamie or the impossible to attain idyllic prose of Hugh, there is a package for everyone to buy.  Every personality type and lifestyle aspiration can find its corresponding chef patron.  I would love to see the great names of this culinary golden age put out books when they have something new to offer, not just linked to a TV program or biannual contractual obligations.  And for the love of foie gras, make sure the recipes work!  
    Don’t take this as cynicism.  I revel in a lot of what’s on show, but I dare say my chef filters are slightly more attuned than the layperson.  I suppose cookbooks are a lot like knives; you only use a few good ones, funny how all the rest stack up over time.  And let’s not forget, I’d bloody love to do one myself!  
And now, in no particular order...ten of my favs.  

Nose to Tail Eating
Fergus Henderson

The importance of this book and its corresponding London restaurant St. John cannot be overestimated.  The seismic shift that occurred within the culinary world due to this Spartan tome still reverberates every time a chef puts roast bone marrow with parsley salad centre stage.  Fergus Henderson reminded everyone it was time for a return to primacy.  Heavy on offal, big on gp’s and wonderfully unique photography; Nose to Tail Eating and to a lesser extent its successor, Beyond Nose to Tail, will stand all tests of time as faffy trends come and go.

Sauces
Michel Roux & Martin Brigdale

A classic. Simple, clear, practical...but what really lifts this book to the top is Brigdale’s masterful photography.  I would go so far as to say that he inspired M&S for that advertising campaign.  Bright, bold and sensual photos inspiring the reader to make the food.  A must have for home and professional cook alike.  An abridged saucier’s handbook.  One can rarely go wrong with a Roux involved.

Week in Week Out
Simon Hopkinson

One of the most used books from my shelf.  A collection of Simon’s work from The Independent Saturday magazine; it goes a lot in saying I am not a fan of Jason Lowe’s food photography, yet I still turn to this book again and again.  That’s how good are the recipes.  I love putting my presentations on Simon's preparations and I deeply respect the effort he puts into ensuring the recipes work and how his cap is so oft doffed to those that have inspired his path.  

White Heat
Marco Pierre White

A book that broke the mould.  The enfant terrible at the cresting of his powers.  Perfectly chronicled in Marco soundbites and Bob Carlos Clarke’s stark canonizing of the man.  Partly to blame for the martyr game us chefs play that is only now starting to wane under the glaring lights of human rights and health and safety.  Difficult reading the recipes; but the ravioli, the lamb en crepinette, the peach Melba version.  Wonderful.
‘At the end of the day it’s just food, isn’t it?  Just food.’  

Keep it Simple
Alastair Little

An old faithful full of love and great recipes.  Add superb photography and stunning illustrations to secure its position.  Hailing from 1997,  Alastair’s food was being called ‘modern British’ and yet bears no resemblance to the molecular jazz or cookie cut out Michelin presentations we witness today.  An interesting footnote into how labelling and pigeonholing creates confusion.  Just eat! 

Thai Food
David Thompson

A bible.  If you own only one book on Thai food, this is your purchase.  A definitive compilation of meticulous research elevated to reference status.  A culinary masterpiece of culture, history and of course, recipes.  Many of Thompson’s dishes have become my ‘go to’ favourites for entertaining or buffets.

The French Laundry
Thomas Keller & Michael Ruhlman

The French Laundry restaurant is a culinary benchmark recorded forever in this sacred book.  A flawless must have made marvelous by the great technician and zen monk of cookery, Thomas Keller, the masterful food writer Michael Ruhlman and ground breaking photographer Deborah Jones.  The detail, format and sheer style of this and Keller’s proceeding books set him apart from the tight pack at the top.  This book presents one with some of the very best food devised, in such a way that much can be recreated with success in the home kitchen by a savvy cook.  Buy it now.

Nico
Nico Ladenis

The first cookbook I ever bought.  My gateway into learning about top chefs and restaurants.  For me, paying heed to trends and culinary politics started with opening this book.  Through it I began a journey of discovery to all the big names and set me off on a cookbook obsession.  I still use the red pepper coulis recipe and I still find the story of Nico Ladenis fascinating.  A beautiful book.  

Au Pied de Cochon
Martin Picard

Cooking as it should be.  Fun, primal, big flavoured and big boned.  A humorous and thorough romp through this stripped back, unpretentious, all embracing Montreal restaurant.  A Canadian St. John with less somber, more fanfare.  Not all the recipes or presentations are to my taste, but it is a unique and joyous shout from the shelf.

Formulas for Flavour
John Campbell

If your forward is scribed by Heston Blumenthal, you must be doing something right.  This is a beautifully shot, technical yet approachable journey through the creative mind of John Campbell, former head chef of The Vineyard at Stockcross.  Incredibly informative and precise, this is a book for an experienced cook wishing to dabble in Michelin territory.  The rabbit saddle recipe is one of my all time favourites.

So, there you have it.  Interestingly, I have chosen seven of the ten from English chefs.  This cannot just be due to these shores becoming my adopted home.  Britain is at the very forefront of global culinary endeavours.  It continues to incorporate foreign- in particular Asian/Oriental cuisines, expanding beyond its own simple past and shrugging off the intimidation of supposed French superiority.  Long may the golden age of British cooking reign and choose your cookbooks wisely!

An edited version of this article can be found in Devon Life September edition 2012
All pictures have been shamefully robbed off the net excluding yours truly and the Nico cover.

The Importance of Tomatoes

   The importance of tomatoes to our cultural and culinary world is so great it nearly goes unrecognised.  The vast myriad of sauces, preparations, signature dishes, home cooked favourites and processed goods which contain this South American fruit are incalculable.  At times, we need to step back from an ingredient and examine it at its very best, raw and untouched state.  The colours, shapes, varying sweetness, acidity and fragrance of heritage, (heirloom across the pond) tomatoes are unsurpassed.  The versatility of beefsteak, the honeyed hit of cherry, the earthy aroma of any fresh tom from the vine.  The varieties are endless.  Green Zebra have a firmness that hold up to breading and frying, Beef Hearts are meaty and robust, Goldens adding a great colour twist and San Marzanos the classic.  The older I get as a chef, the simpler I prefer my cooking.  So; if I can present a stripped down Caprese but use an unusual mix of tomatoes, I’m keeping it real but still giving the diner a unique experience.
    Tomatoes were once regarded with much suspicion in Britain, even poisonous by some.  By the mid-18th century they were a near staple and British tomatoes in season, (possibly not this one) are some of the very best.

The Importance of Caprese

An Italian classic.
The simple combination of fresh tomatoes, basil, buffalo mozzarella, olive oil and seasoning will be with us until the end of time.  The first picture here reflects Caprese at its most base principle, contrasting with the other offering, an altogether posher affair.  In the latter, the very best of heritage tomatoes have been tossed with extra virgin olive oil, freshly ground black pepper and Cornish sea salt flakes.  Arranged carefully and dotted with basil cress from Teign Valley Micro Herbs, fresh buffalo mozzarella and little quenelles of basil pesto.
Take care when buying mozzarella. Price usually dictates quality and buffalo is far superior to cow. Those 80p rubber balls at your local hypermarket aren’t worth the bother, spend a bit more for the real thing and always serve at room temperature.
Pesto shouts of summer and is a great condiment. Easy to make, stores well and flexible for all manner of pasta, bread or salad combinations.

To make:
3 good handfuls of fresh basil leaves
½ garlic clove
3-4tbsp Parmesan cheese
2-3tbsp toasted and cooled pine nuts
Olive oil
Simply blend to a paste, drizzling oil to your desired consistency.
Top Tips
-Seasoning. So important. Tomatoes love sea salt flakes and freshly ground black pepper.
-Room temperature. Always. A tomato served fridge cold is a near crime in my world.

The Importance of Sauce

It would be near ridiculous to include a recipe.  Everyone should be able to whip up either a fresh or cooked tomato sauce to their taste with olive oil, chopped onions, garlic and seasoning.  One of the most effective concoctions and one of the very simplest.  There is no excuse to buy jarred sauces.  Period.  A fresh tomato sauce takes mere minutes.  A cooked, thirty or so.  Tomatoes have a powerful flavour, high liquid content and soft flesh that breaks down easily to aid in the thickening to a superb and unmistakable mouthfeel end.  The key is to use fresh ripe tomatoes or quality canned.  Napolina plum tomatoes would be the only ones I use from the hypermarket.  In the restaurant we use Caesar.  Whether it be puttanesca, arrabbiata, Mama’s secret recipe or ketchup...tomato sauce is the queen of all the mother sauces.
The classic Tomates a la Creme first graced the pages of Edouard de Pomiane’s unique and charming book, Cooking in Ten Minutes, and has been handed down through the ages by Elizabeth David and Simon Hopkinson.  A near sauce itself; here I have utilised the best of heritage tomatoes. The end result just keeps the integrity of the tomato with the added luxury of near caramelisation. The acidity of the tomato cuts the heaviness of the double cream beautifully.

Tomates Heritage a la Creme
For a starter or side dish for 4

Ingredients
8 medium size ripe tomatoes (a nice mix of heritage if you can get them)
2tbsp Butter
Sea salt flakes and freshly ground black pepper
8tbsp double cream
Basil leaves

Method
1) Cut the tomatoes in half through their middles.
2) Season the tomatoes well and let sit for five minutes.
3) Heat a frying pan, melt the butter and lay out the toms, cut side down.
4) Cook for a few minutes, jabbing a few punctures in the upturned bottoms.
5) Turn carefully with a palette knife, (try to avoid tongs for most things) and cook for another    5-10 minutes depending on the thickness of the tomatoes.
6) Turn again and add the cream between the tomatoes. Add the basil to the cream.
7) The cream will bubble and reduce very quickly, mixing well with the leaked tomato juices.
8) Serve immediately.

The Importance of Concasse

The simple act of cross hatching the bottom of a tomato and carefully digging out the root with a sharp knife from the other end is one of the first things one learns in a professional kitchen.  Plum, San Marzano or Roma are best for this due to their supple, tapered shape and the subsequent 30-40 second blanching in boiling water, ice refreshing and skin peeling is a job I have performed countless times.  For a time; top chefs tired of using this technique, but we had to return in the end.  There is no substitute for the silky and acidic hit of tomato concasse.  Its most famous incarnation being heaped on Italian bruschetta, the tomato concasse became somewhat restaurant weary with its uniform inclusion into every sauce and garnish in the chef’s repertoire.  A good long rest from the table and a begrudging nod to its irreplaceable position has brought it back to my daily mis en place.  Here I have tried to do a very simple dish of fried cod with a chervil butter sauce, the classic tomato concasse presented very old school- dotting the sauce, and a uniform petal gracing the crisp top of the cod.  The flaky, buttery fish with silky, just-so-tart peeled tomato is heavenly.

Samphire

Along with wild garlic, I see samphire as the gateway drug to foraging.  Abundant, obvious and full of flavour, samphire is a British seasonal staple that fell from favour but has made a full recovery to feature prominently on top restaurant menus.
Firstly, there are two forms of samphire.  Rock samphire is the broader leafed, fuller flavoured and rather spicy version that was once highly prized and lends itself well to pickling.  Scarcer than in its heyday and moderately difficult to harvest from cliffs and rocks along coastal regions, it is an ingredient well worth seeking when out on a seaside walk.  The more singular flavoured and coral like marsh samphire has taken over in popularity due to abundance and ease.  It has a fantastic colour when blanched in boiling water for a minute or so, a lovely crunch and a sea salty freshness that dictates its pairing with all manner of fish dishes.  It also compliments lamb, salads and a great last minute addition to a chunky seafood chowder.  Marsh samphire was also a very popular source of soda for glassmaking, hence its other name- glasswort.  Collected by hand in the summer months from the edges of tidal creeks, marsh samphire truly is one of those easy, free foods.  Whatever your preference, true samphire and glasswort should be considered two of the real heroes of the South West larder, harvested for nothing and eaten with pride and gusto.

Here we have a few dishes that showcase what a great additive marsh samphire can be as a flavour enhancer similar to a caper or gherkin, a colour booster and an integrity injector to any menu.

Heirloom Tomatoes, Ricotta & Samphire

Getting in with someone that knows their tomatoes and plants a wide variety of old school viners is a must.  It really lifts even the simplest of capreses to have a cross section of shapes and colours to a simple tomato dish.  Some seasoned ricotta is dotted about the tomatoes that have been tossed in sea salt and freshly ground black pepper.  My love affair with celery leaf is well documented and is unsurprising in its inclusion. Mwah.  Note: Bear in mind when working with samphire, it is salty.  The seasoning of the other ingredients may need to lowered somewhat to compensate the overall mouthfeel.

Warm New Potato Salad (But not as you know it)

The usual potato salad is a rather depressing thing. Drenched in poor quality mayonnaise, over cooked watery potatoes and a few scattered onions.
Sweet and earthy new potatoes such as Cornish Earlies or Jersey Royals have a nuttiness that should be accented rather than hidden.  Whether you prefer waxy or floury, give a new potato a bit more love and put your thinking cook’s cap on.  Here, I’ve interspersed the samphire with shaved fennel, ruby grapefruit, radish, orange, goats’ cheese, soft herbs and, (surprise, surprise) celery leaf to bash together a radiant summer melange of colours, flavour bursts and texture contrasts.  Begging to start off a meal with a crisp white or rose.

Salmon ‘Mi Cuit’, Pickled Beetroot & Citrus

This is a dish very dear to our hearts at Southernhay House.  My apprentice Nick Clifford; along with fellow apprentice from our newly opened neighbor, Chapter Magdalen, placed third this year in the UK Young Seafood Chef of the Year this past April.  This was their intermediary course and it really is a winner.  The salmon is cooked sous vide, showcasing the velvet texture of the oily fish and is aptly garnished by lightly pickled candy beets, citrus segments and blanched samphire.  Visually stunning and a real treat to eat.  Well done lads on your first ‘signature’ dish.

Devon Mackerel Teriyaki, Noodle Salad & Samphire

I love teriyaki. It really is such a handy thing to have tucked away in the fridge.  A nice break from the usual condiment, shelf life is near eternal and it just tastes damn good on almost everything. Cold or hot, thick or thin teriyaki is superb with fish or meat, the only trick is to bear in mind when cooking with this sugary sauce, the primary ingredient can easily burn.  Your goal is a nice crusty char but use care.  Here, I’ve brushed the mackerel fillet in the sauce and quickly cooked in a hot pan with a little sunflower oil.  The egg noodles are dressed with lime juice, soy sauce, sesame oil, spring onion and of course, samphire.  The arrangement of the lightly pickled carrot and cucumber beneath is visually effective, yet very tasty and in keeping with the rest of the dish.  A few sesame seeds, a bit of applicable cress, drizzle drizzle...et voila.
Teriyaki   
200ml soy sauce
100gm brown sugar
1 crushed garlic cloves
1 star anise
1 small knob of peeled ginger, roughly chopped
1/2 zest and juice of a large orange
-Combine the ingredients in a saucepan, bring to a boil and and reduce to the desired thickness.
-Gently coat meat or fish before frying or grilling and add more as needed/desired throughout cooking or depending on the size of ingredient.

Artichokes, Broad Beans, Goats’ Cheese & Samphire

This is another one of those, ‘have a look about, see what’s good and colourful, toss it all together and enjoy.’ The only set recipe would be that it looks and tastes fresh and summery. Young globe artichokes have been charred and combined with blanched broad beans, Vulscombe goats’ cheese, oven roasted beefsteak tomatoes, new potatoes and butter beans.  Mixed together in a big bowl with a lemony olive or rapeseed oil, seasoning, soft herbs of choice and, of course the hero of the day...samphire.  Very Mediterranean, tasty and a winner to keep the ever angsty vegetarians at bay.

Note: As with all foraging, care needs to be taken regarding the natural environment. Correct picking; ensuring the crop returns, trod lightly, and ensure you have 'right of way' concerning wild crops. Check with your local authority or nature groups if unsure.


An edited version of this article featured in Devon Life Magazine 2012.

Jubileats

I’m not from around these parts. I’m not a royalist and; at best, I find the class divide of my adopted home rather bemusing, dahling. What I can say for certain is that anyone who has dedicated sixty years of their life to something deserves a bit of a party. If that someone happens to be the monarch of the United Kingdom, countless other Commonwealth realms and Supreme Governor of the Church of England...well, it’s definitely time for top shelf bubbly. Toss in an Olympics and Wimbledon, wrap it all up in reams of pomp and circumstance bunting and you’ve got the making of a cracking British summer. Even that coquettish tease the sun, won’t be putting a dampener on these proceedings.

1953. Tea, sugar and eggs had only just come off rationing, with meat and cheese still regulated until ‘54. Culinary speaking, the UK was largely a no go zone. Food was often scarce and was considered sustenance, period. It is no secret that a nation’s wealth can be judged by the number and occupancy of its decent restaurants and this was not a time for chef frippery. Yet, classic pairings and simple dishes remain throughout all ages. So, let’s cast a jaundiced eye back to the British table of the early 1950’s and see what can be reworked into something fit for a Queen and palatable to the post Master Chef golden age.

Chilled Cucumber Soup with Gin Jelly
Serves 6

Often chilled cucumber soups are watery graves based more upon a gazpacho technique but lacking any punch. This velvety cooked soup served chilled holds its own incorporating two of Britain’s most famous ingredients.

2 cucumbers, sliced and de-seeded
½ cucumber peeled into ribbons with a potato peeler
4tbsp extra virgin olive oil or rapeseed oil
1 onion, diced
1ltr vegetable stock
150ml double cream
2tbsp wild garlic leaves
1tbsp chives
1tbsp chervil
2 gelatine leaves
150ml gin
mint leaves and edible flowers

1) Heat the oil and add the cucumber and onions. Cook until slightly softened, then add the stock. Cook for two minutes then liquidise with the cream and herbs. Taste, season and chill.
2) Soak the gelatine leaves in cold water for 5 minutes until soft. Warm the gin over a low heat without boiling it and add the gelatine leaves. Stir until dissolved but do not let the mixture boil. Let cool to room temperature.

Coronation Chicken
Serves 6
Well, I couldn’t exactly leave this one out could I?
Coronation chicken can be a lovely dish if attended to with a bit of care. Don’t crucify the chicken during the cooking process, don’t cram it between boring sliced bread, season well and just enough mayo to bind.

4 Good sized chicken breasts
Quality mayonnaise
Creme fraiche
Mild curry powder or paste
½tsp Turmeric
2tbsp Reconstituted sultanas
2 tbsp Toasted flaked almonds
½ Green mango
2tbsp Freshly chopped coriander
Juice of one lime
½ stick finely diced celery
Seasoning
Watercress
12 cooked asparagus spears

1) Poach the chicken in stock or water until just cooked 8-10 minutes. Cool and slice into good size chunks. Place in a large bowl.
2) Combine with the desired amount of mayonnaise and creme fraiche. Equal parts. Stir in well the curry powder to taste and the turmeric for colour. Add the celery, lime juice and coriander. Season to taste.
3) Heap a pile of watercress on each plate with two asparagus spears. Pile on the chicken and top with the flaked almonds, sultanas and peeled shavings of mango.
4) Serve with toasted pitas or grilled flat bread.

Spam Fritters & Mushy Peas
Serves 6

Right, I’m using a bit of poetic license here with the description. In the restaurant I will fore go the spam for our own ham hock terrine and of course, true mushy peas are yellow-grey of the marrow fat variety. Whenever you get bright green mushy peas with your fish n’ chips, that’s called E102/E133 colourants. Better to be traditional or go for actual petit pois.
And what do I think of actual spam? There is no denying it has a moreish flavour albeit over salted and cloyingly fatty. It reminds me of my Dad. A go to dish whenever Mom was out.

12 slices of spam (feels quite weird to write that!)
2 beaten eggs
Flour to dust
Panko or fine dry white bread crumbs
400gm petit pois
Small handful of mint leaves
200ml Vegetable stock
Seasoning
Gherkins
Sunflower oil for frying

1) Lightly flour, egg wash and breadcrumb the spam slices. Refrigerate.
2) Liquidise the peas with hot stock, the mint and seasoning. Adjust the consistency with more stock if needed. You want a thick mixture, ripe for dolloping.
3) Heat a large fry pan and add a few tbsp of sunflower oil. Fry the fritters until golden.
4) Divide the mushy peas on dinner plates, and top with the fritters. Garnish with sliced gherkins.

Avocado and Orange Cocktail
Serves 6

Apparently all the rage at the time and a good excuse to go camp as a row of tents.
Avocados are such a silky, subtle foil to all things acidic. This really does taste lovely.

3 Ripe, yet firm avocados, peeled into shavings just before serving
8 Oranges, half segmented, half sliced into rounds
1 Ruby grapefruit, segmented
200gm Marie rose sauce
Picked chervil leaves
Edible flowers (optional)
150ml Orange juice
150ml Cointreau
4 gelatine leaves

1) Make the jelly with the orange juice and Cointreau following the same principle as the gin jellies with the cucumber soup. Divide the orange segments between six martini glasses and top up to equal levels with the jelly mix. Refrigerate.
2) Arrange the orange slices along the rim of the glasses, interspersed with the grapefruit segments.
3) A great dollop of marie rose sauce topped with all the avocado shavings. Artfully dot with flower petals and chervil leaves.

Pimm’s Jelly

I’d hazard a guess that this summer will see record breaking consumption of the classic fruit cup. What could be more festive, more apt for the moment than an elegant and fresh Pimm’s cocktail.  Go upmarket and substitute the usual lemonade for bubbly and you have a ‘Pimm’s Royal Cup’.
Just about any decent charity shop will throw up a classic old Victorian jelly mould. The bigger the better for a bit of theatre. Work on these principles:
-Approx 300ml liquid to 4 leaves of gelatine
-Make the jelly mix to your taste. How boozy/sweet do you want it? Adjust it to you and your guests’ palates.
-Jellies should be wobbly. Fear not, they will take an awful lot of side to side without breaking.
-Build the innards of the jelly uniformly against the edge of the mould for a showy aspect. The classic ingredients are- cucumber, strawberry, mint, orange, lemon and apple. Top with borage flowers for complete authenticity and serve with ice cold pouring cream or clotted cream.
-When warming a tipping a large jelly...a quiet prayer usually helps.

My personal Jubilee celebrations highlight.
Grace Jones at 64

An edited version of this piece was published in Devon Life Magazine, June 2012.

Spears of Aspiration

True lovers of food; whether they be cooks, chefs or rapturous eaters often blur the line between stomach and loins.  A sublime morsel can be a tickle to make one swoon; a great meal, foreplay.  If aphrodisiacs do indeed exist, the lofty asparagus spear is a true royal with its delicate points d’amour.  Elegant, dainty, short-lived and of a hue that evokes fertility, freshness and surely jealousy from lowlier vegetables, asparagus is king right down to its rooty crown.
Like many a splendored thing gone squandered, asparagus is subjected to much abuse.  Let’s run through some rules of respect and points of interest.

1) A foreign spear is not so dear
-No point. Delight in the British asparagus season that runs from April-June. Asparagus should be a treat gorged upon for these three fleeting months.  The key to proper product is the short time from picked to plate.  Look for moistness at the cut, tight buds and a firm stalk.  The sugars quickly turn to flavourless starch when left to sit.  Hypermarket asparagus from Peru or Thailand in December is a cardinal sin.  White asparagus is indeed amazing, but only when at source.  Otherwise an overpriced delicacy travelled too far.

2) A kept woman
-If you acquire some recently picked spears but aren’t able to cook them straight away, the best manner in which to protect is to carefully snip that oft too tight rubber band, stand them in a glass or container with an inch of water and then refrigerate.  Don’t pack them too tightly together and always mind those delicate tips.

3) To peel or not to peel
-A matter of finesse.  Does peeling asparagus make it taste better? Arguably, but then you are losing some of the texture contrast.  Does it make the asparagus more attractive?  Well, we’re talking about the difference between fishnets and ultra sheer.  It’s all in the eye of the beholder.  I would say; peel thick, au naturale for thin.  On the subject of asparagus trimming, I was always told, ‘The more expensive the restaurant, the closer to the tip the asparagus is snipped’.  As long as all those off-cuts are saved for a nice soup, it matters not a whit.

4) The cooking
-Not a lot and very quickly, or not at all.  Find the subtle, yet natural breaking point, snap and trim straight.  Discard the woody bits as they aren’t really fit for anything bar a possible addition to vegetable stock.  In a perfect world you would then boil in a special asparagus steam/boiler that blanches upright whilst saving the delicate tips from actually being submerged in the water.  Us peasants can make do by boiling a large amount of heavily salted water and blanching them for 3-5 minutes, depending on thickness.  Or steaming a little longer.  Serve immediately or refresh in ice water for later warming or grilling.  Raw asparagus can be lovely when sliced ultra thin and married with an acidic emulsion.

5) The pairing
-Well, what doesn’t go with asparagus? A subtle flavour that lifts, augments and adds a touch of class.  Seasonality dictates lightness but the options are endless. Born for butter, quality oils, hollandaise, Parmesan, mayonnaise, mustard dressings, cured ham, crab, eggs, pickled in a Bloody Mary etc. etc. I love Hugh’s idea of using them as soldiers for a butter enriched soft boiled egg.  Add a few drops of truffle oil and phwoar...

     
Here we have a few very simple staples with one of my signature dishes.  A bit involved but well worth the effort and shouting spring/early summer with every step.

Lamb Sweetbreads, Asparagus, Wild Garlic Gnocchi & Morels

Ingredients for 4:

4-500gm Lamb sweetbreads
Milk to cover
1 Bay leaf
2tbsp Water
2tbsp Unsalted butter
5tbsp All purpose flour
1tsp Dijon mustard
1-2tbsp Finely chopped wild garlic
3tbsp Grated gruyere
1 Large egg
12 Medium size morels
8 Asparagus spears
Butter for basting
Capers
Lemon juice
Seasoning
Sunflower oil
Flour to dust
Watercress


Method:

1)   Soak the sweetbreads overnight in a container of cold water.
2)   Drain and place in a saucepan with the bay leaf and cover with milk.  
3)   Bring the saucepan to a boil and simmer gently for five minutes.
4)   Drain and immediately plunge into ice water until completely cooled.
5)   Peel off the membrane and fat from the sweetbreads and lay out on a plate covered with cling film.
6)   Press under a heavy weight, for a couple hours.  Refrigerate.
7)   Set up a mixer with the paddle attachment.
8)   Combine the water, butter and a pinch of salt in a medium saucepan and bring to simmer.
9)   Reduce the heat, add all the flour at once and stir rapidly with a wooden spoon until the dough pulls away from the sides of the pan.  The dough should be glossy, smooth and moist but not sticking to the bottom of the pan.
10) Continue to stir for about five minutes, keeping the heat low to avoid colouring.  When enough moisture has evaporated, steam will rise from the dough.
11) Immediately transfer the dough to the mixing bowl.
12) Add the mustard, wild garlic and a couple pinches of salt.
13) Mix for a few seconds to incorporate the ingredients, then add the cheese.
14) With the mixer on the lowest speed, add the egg and beat until fully incorporated.
15) Place the dough in a piping bag and let it rest for 30 minutes.
16) Bring a large pot of salted water to the boil and keep at a simmer.
17) With one hand, evenly and slowly squeeze out 2cm nuggets of the gnocchi whilst slicing them off with a small knife into the simmering water with the other.  This task should be done rapidly so that the gnocchi all cook at relatively the same time.  Cook for 2-3 minutes, then plunge into ice water.  You should get 40 gnocchi.
18) Drain and reserve.
19) Season and dust the sweetbreads with a little flour.  Fry on a high heat in a little sunflower oil, basting with a knob of frothing butter until browned. Add the gnocchi and morels and toss, toss until browned and cooked, adding more butter and seasoning if needed.
20) Simultaneously in a large saucepan of salted boiling water, blanch the asparagus for 3-4 minutes depending on thickness.
21) Scalding your fingers, rough cut the asparagus and add to the sweetbreads pan.  Crank up the heat and drizzle a little lemon juice as the butter yearns to burn.  A quick beurre noisette.

To serve:

Arrange the sweetbreads, gnocchi, asparagus and morels divided amongst four plates. Top with spoonfuls of hot beurre noisette and a few choice leaves of watercress or chickweed if handy.  A glass of prosecco would not go amiss with such a luxurious dish.  Some finesse required but a rustic presentation devoid of pretension.

“...asparagus, tinged with ultramarine and rosy pink which ran from their heads, finely stippled in mauve and azure...transforms my chamber-pot into a flask of perfume."

-Marcel Proust


An edited version of this article appeared in Devon Life Magazine, May 2012