Monday, 9 March 2009

Pock-Marked Mother Chen's Beancurd

Snazzy name, no?

Legend has it that this dish, Ma Po Tofu, is named after the wife of a Qing Dynasty restauranteur that was scarred with smallpox. Apparently she prepared this dish for hungry people returning home and as it's so delicious, it thus became popular.

What is fairly strange with it is that it uses minced beef, something not regularly seen in Chinese cookery. My grandmother made a dish with minced beef, tinned tomatoes and spring onions, a sort of bolognese-style dish but this is the only one I really remember. Don't be put off by the tofu - this is a dish that I've known to convert tofu haters. It combines the great almost crunchy texture of the beef with the silky tofu pieces perfectly and is a spicy, rich and warming dish. Many restaurants use minced pork, and also add things like shiitake mushrooms, but I prefer this version; simple, and with the main components shining through.

The recipe I use is adapted from Fuschia Dunlop's 'Sichuan Cookery'. I love this book and I highly admire Dunlop. No simpering or batting the eyelashes at the camera like Ching He-Huang, but instead she's actually lived in the country and writes about authentic and traditional recipes.

Ma Po Tofu (Pock-Marked Mother Chen's Beancurd)

Serves 2

1 block of tofu (I use Mori-Nu Tetrapak Firm Silken, when I can't get fresh)

4 stalks of spring onion, sliced on the diagonal

180gr minced beef

2 1/2 tbsp chilli bean paste

1 tbsp fermented black beans, or black bean sauce

2 tsp ground chilli (if you really love chilli)

250ml vegetable or chicken stock

1 tsp sugar

1 tsp Chinese black vinegar

2 tsp light soy sauce

2 heaped tsp cornflour mixed with a little cold water

1/2 tsp Sichuan pepper, dry-roasted & ground

3 tbsp groundnut oil. Dunlop uses much more, and this is meant to be an oily dish, but I can't bring myself to do it.

Cut your tofu into cubes and steep in hot water. Heat your wok until smoking, then add the oil. When it's shimmering, add the minced beef and fry the beef on a high heat until it's crispy. Add the chilli bean paste, and fry until fragrant. Add the black beans or black bean sauce and the ground chilli if using.

Next, add the stock with the soy sauce, sugar and vinegar. Carefully drain the tofu, then add the tofu to the wok and simmer for 5 or 10 minutes so that the tofu absorbs the flavour. Add the spring onion, stir ever-so-carefully, and then add the slakened cornflour and cook until thickened. Sprinkle the Sichuan pepper over the dish and serve with steamed rice and steamed greens.

Sunday, 8 March 2009

Chinese Steamed Egg with Minced Pork

I've been meaning to make this dish for a while, as it's a favourite I remember from my childhood. This weekend I decided it was time. Minced pork and mushroom were common in the dish, mixed in with the silky savoury custard. It can be quite difficult to get the consistency right and without bubbles on top - I failed on the bubble front but I'm not sure it makes such a difference. It was perfect served with just rice and curly kale, stir-fried with ginger, garlic, chilli and oyster sauce. It makes for a really light and refreshing meal and for me, is great comfort food.

Chinese Steamed Egg with Minced Pork & Mushrooms

For 2

2 eggs
5 dried shiitake mushrooms
160gr minced pork
1" ginger, minced
1 spring onion
1 tbsp light soy sauce
1 tsp white pepper
1 tbsp Shaoxing rice wine
1/2 tsp cornflour
Toasted sesame oil



In a bowl, pour 200mls of boiling water over the shiitake mushrooms. Leave for 1/2 an hour. Meanwhile, add the ginger to the pork with the soy sauce, rice wine, cornflour and white pepper. Chop the white part of the spring onion finely and slice the mushrooms, add to the pork and leave to marinate for 20 minutes. Fry in a non stick pan or wok until just cooked. Add to a bowl to put in the steamer.

In a bowl, whisk the two eggs with the cooled 200ml of the water from the rehydrated mushrooms. Pass the egg mixture through a sieve into the bowl of the pork mince. Cover with a foil lid and steam on the lowest heat until cooked. Mine took about 20 minutes and I had to keep checking to see if it had set.

The mushroom water makes the custard juicy and smooth, as well as giving it a good hit of umami. You can really add what you like to it - salted eggs are common, as well as dried shrimp or carrot.

Saturday, 7 March 2009

Portugese Pork Belly with Clams (Porco a Alentejana)

Yes, that's right; more pork belly. You could accuse me of being stuck in a rut, as this is the 4th pork belly recipe to be posted on here, but it's just so versatile. Braised, steamed, roasted - it all works perfectly.

My parents were coming to visit and have a look round the new flat. As they always go all out when cooking for me, I figured it was all I could do to do the same, especially as they gave up their Saturday morning to ferry me back from Ikea. Pork belly always gets rave reviews from my housemate, so my meal was going to be based around this.

Having googled around, I came across this recipe. I haven't cooked any Portugese food before, which is partly why I went for it, although with a few tweaks. As strange as it may seem, shellfish and pork are a great match and this worked very well indeed. Off I went down to Selfridges Food Hall, armed with a gift card from my old colleagues. They were the only place I could think of that would have Palourde clams for me to buy on a Friday night, and they didn't disappoint. At around £8 for half a kilo, they're not cheap but I imagine mussels would work just as well.

The pork belly came from the meat counter, Jack O'Shea. It was very tasty, but I still haven't come across any better than GG Sparks' pork. Anyway, my parents enjoyed the dish immensely (judging but the silence that ensued while we gobbled it up) and I was really pleased with the way it turned out.

Portugese Pork Belly with Clams

Serves 3 hungry people

1 kilo pork belly, skin scored

500gr Palourde clams, or mussels

300mls dry white wine

1 heaped tsp hot smoked paprika

3 cloves garlic, minced

1 onion, diced

1 yellow pepper, chopped roughly

1 tin of cherry tomatoes, drained and tin juices reserved

1 red chilli, deseeded and chopped

1 stick of celery

1 handful of coriander

1 handful of parsley

1/2 a lemon

The night before, add the wine to a large bowl with the paprika and the garlic. Score the flesh side of the pork, and add the pork to the bowl, taking care so that the liquid doesn't touch the skin. Marinade for at least 5 hours (I left it overnight). To cook, preheat your oven to the highest temperature. Remove the pork from the marinade (reserving the marinade) and pat dry. Dry the skin thoroughly, rub with a little oil and sprinkle with salt. Roast in a roasting tin on high for 30 mins, then turn down to 130 degrees and roast further for 3 hours. Remove and rest for at least 30 mins. I find the skin usually needs to be stuck under the grill to puff up properly, but do keep an eye on it as it burns easily.

While the pork is resting, fry the onion and chilli in a little oil. Strain the marinade and add the garlic from the marinade to the pan. Fry slowly until fragrant. Then add the yellow pepper and the reserved marinade and simmer for 5 or so minutes. Add the cherry tomatoes with half the juice (use the other half of the juice for a pasta sauce or something) and simmer for a further 5 minutes. Making sure the liquid is simmering, add the clams and immediately whack a lid on and cook until the clams have just opened, roughly 5 minutes. I kept peeking as I think there's nothing worse than over-cooked clams. Remove from the heat, garnish with the parsley and coriander and a squeeze of lemon juice.

To serve, slice the pork belly into portions, add a ladleful of clams and the sauce, and serve with potato mashed with kale (although I think roasted potatoes or rice would also work well).

Friday, 6 March 2009

Lunching at Hibiscus

Hurrah! Finally I am back online. I've sorely missed having the internet; there's only so much crap TV one can put up with. Yes yes, I could have gone and done something productive, but... well... I'm lazy.

The phrase 'credit crunch' has been bandied around like no-one's business. I am, quite frankly, rather bored by it. It's all doom and gloom; I recently left a job and a month later 40% of the work force got the chop. Lucky escape, but it is upsetting. So now, it's encouraging to see that you can still lunch in decent places for a reasonable amount of money.

With this in mind, my sister told me that she was in town for one lunchtime only and that she wanted to go somewhere good. Hibiscus has been on my list for a while now, and having seen it's £25 three course set lunch deal, a table was duly booked.


On arrival, I was greeted graciously and shown to my table, a large 4 seater (for the two of us) facing the rest of the restaurant. The dining room is pretty plush; my heels sunk into the carpets and I felt rather cosseted. My sister hadn't turned up yet, and I was given a bowl of olives. They were flavoursome and crunchy; so far so good.

The set lunch menu consists of two choices per course. All the choices sounded appealing, so I asked my sister to choose whatever she wanted and then I would take the choices she didn't want. In places like these, I think it's best that you try and sample all you can. We were pleasantly surprised when the above pictured amuse bouche was presented to us. It reminded me of a pre-dessert at Launceston Place, presented in the same way. This one was savoury, with a soft poached quail's egg inside which yielded beautifully under the pressure of the teeny tiny spoon, to mix and enrichen a palm heart velouté. Well, at least that's what I think it was; our server's French accent was really thick. The brioche soldier on top made for a good dipping vehicle. "Do you think I could drink the dregs out of the shell?" We were both impressed with it.

The starter was ravioli of scallop, cuttlefish and crab. God knows what was perching on top of it, because for some reason I didn't take a picture of the menu, and I daren't ask the waiter to repeat himself again. This was probably the least favourite of the courses. The filling was rich, the seafood fresh but the pasta wasn't as silky or as light as it could have been.

My main of roasted Cornish silver mullet with turnips, broccoli fricassée and almond sauce was gorgeous. The fish was cooked perfectly and the skin crisp. I'm not a huge fan of almond but it really worked well, lending a richness to the dish. A hit of intense broccoli flavour rounded it off nicely.

Ah, dessert. I'm not particularly bothered with desserts usually, but this one really wowed me and was the best course of the meal.

I ordered the 'Clun Valley Whimberry Clafoutis', wondering what this berry was, but it turns out they're rather like blueberries. They were encased in a light cake, topped with barley malt ice cream and served atop a Earl Grey tea syrup. My god, did this work well. The ice cream was smooth and rich, with just a hint of the barley malt. The syrup was intense and delicious; I found it strange that I liked it so much, as I usually find Earl Grey to be too perfumey for my tastes. On the other side of the table, my sister concurred that her yellow lime tart, topped with a pleasingly crunchy caramel with clove ice cream, was also the star of her meal.

So, for three courses each, a lemonade and service this lunch came to £30 a head. Great value for the quality of the cooking and the attentive (if indecipherable) waiting staff. I'd definitely like to come back for a tasting menu dinner, as the a la carte looked intruiging, but alas, not until I win the lottery. For now, set lunches will do.

Hibiscus

29 Maddox Street

London W1S 2PA

020 7629 2999


Hibiscus on Urbanspoon

Tuesday, 24 February 2009

Intermission

You may (or may not) have noticed that I've gone a bit radio silent - this is due to starting a new job, and also moving house. Apparently these are in the top 5 stressful things to put yourself through, along with organising a wedding and the death of a relative. Thankfully I am not going through the latter two.

So, unfortunately thanks to BT, I will not have an internet connection for a good two weeks or so. Pffft.

Thursday, 19 February 2009

Rabbit in a Cream & Mustard Sauce

I used to have a pet rabbit. Thankfully I can't remember what it was called, and so I wasn't in any way squeamish about cooking this bunny up. I spotted a wild rabbit, already skinned and portioned, for sale in Borough Market for a mere £5. I immediately snapped it up, and set about cooking it. Of course, I didn't have a recipe in mind when I bought it but having a quick squizz around inspired this.

Rabbits need long and slow cooking, especially the wild ones. I wanted some sort of rich and robust stew, but also I wanted flavours suited especially to rabbit; sometimes stew can be a bit generic.

This is a really rich dish - I cooked the usual pasta for two but we were properly stuffed afterwards, so I'd suggest a smaller portion (shock horror). Due to the long cooking times, the overnight rest and the resultant rich stock, this was one seriously tasty pasta sauce; especially given the relatively simple ingredients.

Rabbit in a Cream & Mustard Sauce

Serves 3

1 wild rabbit, jointed

3 carrots, diced

1 large onion, diced

3 cloves of garlic, minced

3 sticks of celery, chopped roughly

1/2 a pint of white wine

1/2 a pint of chicken stock

2 bay leaves

A handful of peppercorns

250gr noodles (dry weight), like fettucine

100ml double cream

2 tbsp wholegrain mustard

Large handful of flat-leaf parsley

1 lemon

In a large saucepan, sweat the onion, garlic, carrot and celery for 20 mins. Dust the rabbit portions in seasoned flour and brown in a non-stick frying pan. Add to the carrot mixture, then add the bay leaves and peppercorns. Add the stock, white wine and a tsp of salt, then bring to a boil. Turn it down to a gentle simmer and cook for a good 3 or 4 hours. Check that it isn't dry - add more chicken stock if it is.

Leave to cool (I left it overnight) and take the rabbit pieces out and take the meat off the bones. Set to one side. Reheat the sauce so that it loosens up a bit, then in a fine sieve, sieve the vegetables off. You should get a rich stock coming through the sieve. Smoosh (yes, technical term) the mixture with a wooden spoon until you're sure you got all the goodness out of it, then discard the vegetable pulp. Add the meat back in and warm gently. Add the double cream and simmer for 10 or 15 minutes until thickened slightly. Slop in the mustard, serve well, and toss with pasta, garnishing with a LOT of chopped parsley and served with a wedge of lemon. Don't forget the black pepper.

Friday, 13 February 2009

Guilty Pleasures Dinner Party

One blustery night after a wine tasting meet-up, myself and some food and wine bloggers got talking about our guilty pleasures. The sort of things that you're shame-faced to admit, but absolutely insist that they're delicious. Crisp sandwiches were mentioned, and when I volunteered Spam ramen noodles, I got a chorus of "bleeeuuuurrgghh!" Well! Hmmppf.

So, we decided to have a Guilty Pleasures dinner party. Myself, Niamh, Chris, Helen and Dan from Bibendum met up at Denise's lovely flat (I got massive flat envy). On the menu: Cheesy sausage biscuits (picture above, Denise), Marmite and cucumber sandwiches (Helen), Spam ramen noodles by my good self, Bovril on toast (Chris), macaroni cheese (Niamh), and a blind tasting from Dan with wines from Bibendum - the theme being 'everyday wines you’ll probably like’ vs. ‘posher wines you should like but might not’.

So, after starting the evening off with gin martinis, we kicked off with the cheesy sausage biscuits. They were delicious - slightly herby and warm. Once I get my hands on some Bisquick I am making me some of these. Helen's Marmite and cucumber sandwiches, specifically on white bread, were next and were great, with no hint of sogginess.

Next: Spam Ramen Noodles. Everyone loved them! (No, really, they did). It was quite a common dish when I was growing up; in fact, much of Hong Kong and South East Asia (as well as Hawaii) still love their Spam without shame. I promised a recipe, so here it is...

Spam Ramen Noodles

Serves 6

1 block of instant noodles per person
1 large tin of Spam, sliced into 1/2 inch pieces
3 spring onions, sliced on the diagonal
Light soy sauce
Toasted sesame oil

In a non-stick pan, add the slices of Spam. There's no need to add any oil, Spam is quite fatty enough. Fry until crispy on both sides, and leave to drain on kitchen paper. Add the noodles to a pot of boiling water and stir with a fork or chopsticks to loosen the noodles. Cook for 2 - 3 minutes. Add a few splashes of soy sauce and a drizzle of sesame oil to each bowl, then divide up the noodles with a few tablespoons of the cooking water to moisten. Toss the noodles, then lay the Spam slices on top, garnish with the spring onions. Eat with gusto, then cry a little about how guilty you feel. Or not - as you can see from the photo, the dishes were polished off.


Next, came the macaroni cheese. It was impressive - a huge baking tray filled with the stuff. It was seriously tasty too, due to an inclusion of bacon, and topped with panko breadcrumbs for added crunch. I like to eat mine with ketchup, which I suppose may be another guilty pleasure of mine.

By this time, there was some bloating occuring. It's not easy eating all this stodge, but we soldiered on gamely. Bovril on toast surprised us by being on rather artisan toasted sourdough, slathered with butter. Delicious, and really comforting. It must've been a night of revelation as Dan had never tried Marmite, Spam or Bovril.

So what about the wines? I get a bit lost when it comes to tastings. I can get the flavours once someone mentions them, but conjuring them up on my own is difficult for me. The first were two whites - #1 was Katnook Founders Block ‘07 Chardonnay, which I vastly preferred to #2 - a 1er cru ‘03 Meursault. Incidentally, most of the wines tasted better when eaten with a sliver of the extremely delicious Tomme de Savoire cheese Dan had brought.

Next up we had rosés. The first one I could barely drink; it was sweet and sickly, much too much so for my palate. The second, a salmon pink colour was much more palatable and I loved it, possibly my favourite of the night; I remember drinking rosé similar to this when I was in Provence briefly last year. Anyway, they were revealed as California Zinfandel ‘07 Delicato for the first - eurgh! - and the second as Chateau des Sarrins Cotes de Provence ‘07 Rose. Lovely stuff.

Lastly, the reds, and an Old World vs. New. I much prefered the Los Alamos '06 Cabernet Sauvignon to the Les Tourelles de Longueville 2003, Pauillac.

So what did I learn? I have common taste in wine, unless it's a rosé. But then I knew that anyway.

All in all, a great night, rounded off by a selection of ales, some seriously tasty Eis Wein and... er... some penny sweets. It was pleasurable, and I sure felt guilty by how much cheese I'd consumed.