Pickled Herrings

Once I get an idea in my head, that's it; I can't think of much else. I recently had a conversation with someone about Ikea and the foodstuffs you can purchase there and one thought of those little chunks of herring pickled in those jars, be it in sweet mustard or just dill, got the craving going. I wasn't about to attempt a trip to the Croydon warehouse of hellishness, so I set about making them myself.

I started off with Hugh Fernley-Whittingstall's recipe and went from there. Two different fish counters were scoured before I found the herrings that I needed, and for some unknown reason I even had a little cry when I gutted a pregnant herring, full of roe. Emotional stuff. The herrings were messily filleted - my knife 'skills' need work - and they sat in brine for a couple of hours while the pickling solution was cooling.

Pickled Herring

6 herrings
60gr salt

Gut and fillet the herrings - don't worry too much about bones as they are very fine and will soften when pickled. Dissolve the salt in 500ml water and place the fillets in it to brine for a couple of hours.

Pickle solution:

6 juniper berries
1 tsp mustard seeds
4 bay leaves
12 black peppercorns
600ml cider vinegar
6 tbsp light brown sugar
1 small onion, sliced very thinly
A handful of dill

Place all of it except the dill in a small sauce pan and bring to the boil. Simmer for 5 minutes and then leave to cool. Roll the fillets up and pack into a sterilised 1 litre jar or container. Rip the dill roughly and add it in. Pour the solution over your fillets and seal, storing in the fridge.


Hugh's recipe recommends you leave them for at least 5 days, but you can leave them up to a month. I left mine for 6 days before I tucked in. You may notice in the photo that there are strips of orange rind in the pickle solution too; I didn't find this very successful, it was too... orangey. So I'd leave them out. Otherwise, they were delicious. Slightly sweet, properly pickled and firm of flesh. They went beautifully with this summer salad.

Pickled Herring & Potato Salad

Serves 2

5 or 6 large new potatoes
A large handful of broad beans
150gr asparagus spears
7 or 8 cherry tomatoes, halved
Half a red onion
2 pickled herring fillets

Dressing:

4 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
1 tbsp red wine vinegar
1 clove of garlic, minced
1 tsp Dijon mustard
1 tsp sugar
2 tbsp dill, finely chopped
Salt & pepper to taste

Whisk the dressing ingredients together well. Meanwhile, set the potatoes on to cook in boiling salted water. I used frozen broad beans so I blanched them and then peeled them of their tough skins. Cook the asparagus until al dente. Toss the broad beans into the dressing and when the potatoes are cooked, halve them and add to the dressing while hot so that they soak it up.

To serve, scatter the asparagus on a plate and top with the broad bean and potato mixture. Halve the tomatoes and add on top with thinly sliced red onion. Finally, slice each herring fillet into 3 large chunks and place carefully on top.

Yashin, Kensington

'Without Soy Sauce but if you want to' is Yashin's motto. Their belief is that their chefs season their sushi and sashimi correctly without you needing to dip anything in soy, as is the norm. A fairly odd motto in its non-commital nature, but that was the general feeling I got from the place, further amplified by the very strange weird Euro-electro lift music playing throughout the restaurant.

Having been to the much-lauded Yashin twice now, I can safely say it's hugely expensive. Sure, the dishes look pretty, but £30 for the Omekase 8 selection (8 nigiri and a maki roll) is quite wild.


The sushi was beautifully presented and it very much reminded me of Sushi of Shiori's style with a little dab of toppings. It differs in that the fish is blow torched so that it's lightly scorched and sitting at the bar gives the best vantage point of the chefs at work. In particular, salmon topped with ponzu jelly was a favourite.

The omekase isn't enough for a complete meal so we had starters too. I only tried one of the marinated oysters and the shallot dressing was over-powering. The blue-dyed ice was pretty though.

Speaking of pretty, we ordered a piece of scallop sashimi after the white spheres of flesh looked so delicious in the cabinet. Balanced on a gold globe atop a piece of shiso leaf, the attention to detail was stunning. Similarly, carpaccio of grouper with a spicy dressing lacked any spiciness but was arranged and fanned beautifully.


It wasn't all a success. Seafood salad with potato, vinegar and sweet miso was disappointingly low in seafood. Much like aforementioned carpaccio, the soft shell crab starter came piled high with undressed and superfluous leaves.

Ultimately, it seemed a little style over substance. Sure, the fish was expertly prepared with well matched seasonings, but for the money I'd rather go back to Sushi of Shiori for a more homely and comfortable feel. Their omekase, a multicourse affair was far more exciting and stimulating than just a plate of sushi brought to you. I left feeling slightly ripped off and not quite satisfied; both feelings that you never want to leave a restaurant with.

Yashin

1A Argyll Road
Kensington
London W8 7DB

Tel: 020 7938 1536

The New Cross House

Outside

Inside - very Capital Pubs-esque

Buttermilk fried chicken

Decor

Enormous pizza oven

Bar

Beer garden

Inside at the outside beer garden...

Upstairs of the beer garden

Capital Pubs have done it again; in what seems like yesterday since the Meateasy closed, they've transformed the desperately grimy Goldsmith's Tavern into a sleek new outfit. In our sneak preview, we saw that wallpaper to mimic original tiling decorate the walls. Booth seating, seen in many Capital Pubs, line one side of the pub and an enormous pizza oven sizzles thin-based pizzas that I know I'll be stuffing myself with in the future.

But perhaps the best bit (especially for a dirty smoker like me) is outside; plenty of seating on the patio decking and a wood burner to keep people warm. Upstairs in the mezzanine is like being on holiday; ivy frames the window frames and sun spills onto the wooden frames.

Time will tell what the atmosphere will be like; predominantly student-heavy, from nearby Goldsmiths? Yummy mummy Brockleyites? Local young professionals, like me and my friends? An amalgamation, I imagine.

Opens MONDAY 9th MAY 2011.

New Cross House

316 New Cross Road,
New Cross,
London,
SE14 6A

Deptford Dame reports here.

Brockley Central reports here.

No. 67 - Neighbourhood Dining

I recently received an email from Nick, a charming and softly spoken head of the kitchen at No. 67, a cafe housed in the South London Gallery on the Peckham - Camberwell borders. With the frank subject of 'shameless self-promotion', I was drawn to it. Usually a lunching or brunching spot, No. 67 was flinging its doors open to embrace the evening crowd. Would we like to visit? Of course. So off I went with a friend who had previously raved about their brunches.

Walking inside was like being in someone's house. Some seriously cool minimalist light fixtures dangled from the ceiling and flickery candles lent the room atmosphere. On a short but succinct menu that is changed daily, you can tell that seasonality is at the heart of the kitchen. After nibbling on a bowl of olives and dipping some lovely, charred bread in olive oil and balsamic, I opted for purple sprouting broccoli with anchovy and flaked almonds. The anchovy element had been worked into a thick sort of mayonnaise, lubricating the al dente broccoli stems well. A solid dish in its simplicity, it was exactly as I'd hoped.

I stayed fishy for my main, opting for a whole grilled mackerel with rocket salad, rhubarb and cream. Mackerel and rhubarb are classic pairings; the tartness of the fruit gets right through to the oily flesh of the mackerel, while the cream cossetted the palate. I thought the rhubarb needed a touch of sweetness - not much, just enough to take the edge off. The skin of the fish took on the flavour of charring, while the meat flaked away nicely.

I turned rather green with jealousy when my companion's roasted pork belly with fennel and orange turned up. A slab of porky goodness, made appropriate for Spring with the tangy salad. Having tried a gobful only made the food envy worse. A side dish of Jersey royals bathed in olive oil were devoured.

Replete, we could hardly ignore the dessert menu when it had things like orange polenta cake with caramelised oranges on it. It sounds positively healthy (ahem). The cake was gorgeously light, but erred on the bitter side. The dollop of cream counteracted this, but once it ran out I was left wanting for a bit of sweetness. The pear and raspberry tart, however, was a thing of great beauty.

A mere 5 mins on the bus from my house and averaging around £25 per head (I estimate; dinner was on Nick) for a 3 course dinner, No. 67 will get a repeat visitor out of me. It's nothing fancy, but it's cosy and comfortable; the dishes are inventive, done well and with great ingredients.

No. 67

65 Peckham Road
London SE5 8UH

Tel: 020 7252 7649

Dinner isn't served on Sundays or Mondays - check website for opening hours.

More photos HERE.

Aubergine, Coconut & Lime Dhal

One year when 7 of my friends and I took a jaunt down to Cornwall, I cooked up a vat of dhal (very Cornish, yes?) flavoured with gentle spices, coconut and lime to feed the masses and accompany a spicy dry lamb curry. Watching your friends devour something you've made is pretty damn satisfying and since then the recipe has been requested. I couldn't quite think of why it wasn't on the blog until I made it recently; it's quite ugly. Nevertheless, it's delicious and it feels like an enormous hug in a bowl, so here it is anyway. It's fairly adaptable; I've in the past thickened it with slimy okra, or loosened it with stock to make soup but my favourite form is as a dhal, to be scooped up with roti.

The coconut milk cooked with velvety aubergines can be quite rich, so a cooling red onion and cucumber salad freshens it all up a bit and adds a bit of punch.


Aubergine, Coconut & Lime Dhal

Serves 4 as a side or 2 as a main

200gr red lentils
1 can of coconut milk + 2 canfuls of water or stock
1 tsp salt
1 large onion
6 garlic cloves
2" of ginger
A large pinch of asafoetida - not essential, but it keeps the uhm, wind away
1 tsp turmeric
1.5 tbsp ground coriander
1 tsp (or to taste) chilli powder
1 heaped tsp cumin seeds
2 green cardamom pods
1 tsp garam masala
1 large aubergine
3 tbsp oil
Chopped coriander, to serve
1 lime

Chop the onion, garlic and ginger finely, or whack it in a food processor. Heat 1 tbsp of oil in a pan and add the cumin seeds. Cook until they become aromatic, then add in the onion, garlic and ginger mixture. Cook this on a low heat until a deep brown but not burnt; this takes about 20 mins.

Add the chilli powder, asafoetida salt, ground coriander, the cardamom pods (split) and turmeric - stir well to combine. Wash the lentils and add to the pan, coating with the spices and finally add the coconut milk and water / stock. Bring to the boil and simmer merrily for 40 mins, stirring occasionally.

Meanwhile, slice the aubergine into fingers. Heat the rest of the oil in a nonstick pan and fry until browned on both sides. Add the aubergine into the simmering dhal - they need a good 20 mins in there so don't dilly dally.

5 minutes before the dhal is ready, add the garam masala. To serve, squeeze the juice of the lime over the dhal and sprinkle with coriander, chopped.

For your salad:


Red Onion & Cucumber Salad

1 red onion
1 red chilli
1/2 a cucumber
1 clove of garlic
1 stalk of spring onion
1/2 tsp black onion seeds
1 lemon
1.5 tbsp vegetable oil

Slice the red onion finely into half moons and using the juice of half a lemon, soak for 1/2 an hour. Drain, rinse and return to a bowl. Peel and deseed the cucumber, then add to the onion. Add the chilli, chopped finely. Mince the garlic and the spring onion and toss though the onion and cucumber. Finally, add the onion seeds.

Heat up the oil until almost smoking, then carefully pour over the onions and cucumber mix - it should sizzle. The idea is this brings out the aromatics. Leave to cool, and serve with the dhal.

Baked Strawberry Cheesecake

I don't bake often, as with just the two of us we'd have to get through an awful lot of cake to avoid waste but when a gathering is planned, it seems the perfect opportunity to try out a new recipe. This was based on a raspberry cheesecake recipe I'd seen, but as strawberries are just coming into season, I thought it would make a good and seasonal substitute.

The recipe needs a bit of tweaking; as delicious as it was, the base could have been crunchier and the filling a touch more set, so I've added what I think you should alter to achieve this in brackets. Nonetheless, it was devoured. The cooked strawberries are sweet and soft while the fresh fruit on top gives good bite and a touch of tartness.


Baked Strawberry Cheesecake

Serves around 8

600gr cream cheese
8 digestive biscuits (I'd suggest using 10 for a drier, crispier base)
50gr butter
142ml soured cream
2 tbsp plain flour
2 eggs + 1 yolk
175gr caster sugar + 1 tbsp
1/2 tsp vanilla extract
500gr strawberries

Preheat the oven to 180 degrees C. Hull and halve the strawberries. Process the digestives into fine crumbs, and met the butter. Mix the two together well and press into a 20cm springform tin. Bake for 10 minutes, and then leave to cool.

Combine the eggs, cream cheese, soured cream, vanilla essence and flour in a bowl. Add the 175gr sugar and whisk until light and fluffy. Stir in half of the strawberries, and then spoon into your tin. Bake for 50 - 55 minutes. The middle should have a slight wobble when you remove it from the oven. Leave to cool in the tin.

Halve the remaining strawberries and put in a small saucepan with the 1tbsp sugar and a tablespoon of water. Heat gently until the strawberries are very soft. Squeeze through a sieve to get the juice. When serving, pile the fresh strawberries on top and drizzle with the strawberry sauce.

The Drapers Arms Invasion

When the day came for The Drapers Arms Invasion, I was weirdly nervous. Nick, the owner, emailed us to let us know that a mammoth 1080 eggs had arrived for us from Clarence Court. We'd asked for 60. I could sense an eggy future. The were Cotswold Legbars; gorgeous pale blue shells and vivid orange yolks. I pushed a box on everyone leaving that evening.

The sunshine blazing, we got to work in the cellar, separating out the fruit and veg boxes kindly donated by Riverford. It was a flurry of fruit flying around, a frenzy of activity.

The very first thing we did was to give the 6 shoulders of hogget, from the hugely generous Donald Russell a good 4 hour bathing in red wine, leeks, onions and carrots. They then went into a low oven to be braised until it was tender enough for the meat to fall off the bone. Then, we got to work making the super rich, super fudgy chocolate brownies, melting huge vats of chocolate from Green & Blacks.

Helen and I spent a good 2 or 3 hours boiling, peeling and halving quails eggs for canapes. Poor Helen spent a further hour stuffing them with the mixture I'd made using the yolks, creme fraiche, smoked salmon from Donald Russell, spring onions, lemon and parsley. There were millions of them and I didn't even manage to get a photo of the final product.

Bread from Kindred in Herne Hill arrived still warm and smelling gorgeous. The walnut bread was sliced thinly and dill sour cream was smeared on, to be topped with flakes of soused mackerel and herring. Lumpfish caviar pepped it up some.

A last minute panic ensued when the supplier of our ham hocks and trotters for us to make the starter simply forgot to send them to us. Luckily, Polpo stepped up to the plate and donated us enough terrine for 55 - superstars. Perhaps a bit of a cheat on our part, but we were in some dire straits. We fancied up the plates with a fennel and orange salad - it is HARD dividing a bowl of salad into 55.

The meat from the hogget shoulders were removed, the sauce reduced. Loins of hogget were also sent to us and these were started in a hot pan, then roasted in the oven until they could be sliced nice and pink. The platters were then sprinkled with gremolata for a bit of freshness. Sides of purple sprouting broccoli and swiss chard were steamed and tossed in garlic butter. Jersey royals got the same treatment, plus a sprinkling of parsley and mint.

A truckle of Stichelton donated by Welbeck Farm Shop was enormous and well received with Peter's Yard Crispbreads and onion chutney from Tracklements.


Rhubarb pavlova was perhaps not the prettiest, but dolloped with whipped cream, the chewy meringue made by Ollie and James sweetened up the tart rhubarb and orange sauce. Brownies followed swiftly with bowls of Rodda's clotted cream to really finish our guests off.

Wines donated by Bibendum Wine, Berkmann Wine Cellars, and wines from Rioja and Germany were gulped down. Beer from Meantime, Innes & Gunn, Duvel, and Westons cider were, presumably devoured, given the happy faces I caught a glimpse of.

We raised £2000.35 in total for Action Against Hunger, a pretty damn good achievement. Thanks, of course, go to The Drapers Arms but also to their lovely chef James who lent us a helping hand and made everything look easy (it wasn't). Also, their brilliant KP who saw us in a sticky time-pressured situation and scrubbed about a million potatoes for us as well as all the washing up. Thanks also goes to We Got Tickets who agreed to donate 20% of the booking fee to Action Against Hunger.

Gone midnight that evening, I fell into my front door and headed straight for the shower, a sweaty, smelly mess. I realised we'd eaten nothing but scraps all day. I had always wondered how it was possible there were so many slim chefs.