Showing posts with label Sausages. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sausages. Show all posts

Wednesday, 13 January 2016

Wild Mushroom and Sausage Fettuccine

This is a favourite simple supper of mine.  You could leave out the sausages and/or throw in some crème fraiche and parsley if you like – it’s really a fairly flexible feast.  But I generally have a real thing for pasta, especially in the colder, wetter months.  When working late and I cannot be bothered to do a big cook, this is perfect.

This feeds two, but could easily be halved.

Ingredients:

200g mushrooms (see below)
2 sausages
2 cloves of garlic
50g butter
150-200g fettuccini (depending on how hungry you are)


I’ve used some speciality mushrooms here, just because Sainsbury’s had them in when I was shopping.  You can use anything really, but I recommend portabello if there’s nothing particularly exotic about.


It’s probably a good idea to get your pasta water on from the word go.  The dish doesn’t take long to make, and you want everything to be ready at once.

Start by prepping the mushrooms – you want them sliced / separated into ribbons.  How you do this will really turn on what mushrooms you’ve bought.


Next up, get a big frying pan on the heat and glug in a bit of olive oil.  Squeeze the sausage meet out of the sausages, discarding the skins, and fry the sausage meet in little chunks, breaking it up as it cooks.



You want to end up with slightly browned, crispy and fully cooked little chunks.


When done, remove from the pan using a slotted spoon and set aside, leaving as much of the rendered fat behind as possible.

You probably want to get the pasta in the pot now, so that’s ready when your mushrooms are.

Add half the butter to the pan and get your mushrooms cooking, so that they soften and begin to brown.  You may need to add a bit more oil, as mushrooms can really soak the fat up, but don’t overdo it.


When the mushrooms are soft, peel and crack the garlic cloves and add to the pan.  Don’t do this sooner or else the garlic will burn (as it cooks quicker than the mushrooms) and leave a nasty, bitter taste.  Add the rest of the butter with the garlic and reintroduce the sausages.



Cook for 5 minutes, but don’t let the mushrooms get too crispy.  Drain the pasta and throw it into the pan with the mushrooms and sausage mix.  Using tongs, mix the two together so that they are fully combined, then serve up, covered in grated parmesan.


Wednesday, 5 August 2015

Brew By Numbers / Howard's Meat Co.

Craft beer and BBQ, along with quality burgers and kimchi, are perhaps two of the four horsemen of the overdone foodpocalypse currently engulfing London.  Don’t get me wrong, there’s a reason these things are so successful – they’re bloody lovely and everyone wants a mouthful.  But they are everywhere and in some cases that begins to grate, at times.  So when an email chain alerts me to the fact that there is an afternoon craft beer and BBQ-ing going down in Southwark, the initial reaction, if we’re honest, is “Again?”.

Of course, that doesn’t stop me reaching for my wallet, clicking the link and booking my tickets.  Why?  Two reasons:  First, the pedigree here is pretty impressive – this is a partnership of Brew By Numbers (or “BBNo” as the branding has it), one of London’s more successful outlets of small batch, craft brewed beer, and Howard’s Meat Co., a British BBQ vendor with Austin, TX training smoking meat in London.  Second, as I said above, beer and BBQ are pretty bloody lovely and so there’s no way I’m gonna turn this sort of opportunity down.

There’s something almost painfully hipster about the setting.  BBNo’s brewhouse is squeezed into a Bermondsey railway arch, mere spitting distance from Maltby Street Market.  It’s the kind of place you expect to find a lot of beards, thick-rimmed glasses and ironic cartoon t-shirts, and it didn’t disappoint.  They had four beers on tap, each were distinctly delicious, from seasonal brews to their standard IPA. 




We kicked off with a witbeer, a classic white beer made with orange peel, coriander and chamomile flowers. 


On a hot sunny day, as Sunday was, it was perfect refreshment.  In fact, this was a truly brilliant beer.  Much like the Einstok I was raving about when we ate in an Underground train, this is a fantastic way of brewing, and makes a beer that even a non-beer drinker (such as GrubsterGirl) would enjoy. 

Pretty soon, we were being treated to some canapé things.  I say ‘canapé things’ because I don’t really know how else to put it.  I mean, sure, it’s sort of like a canapé in that it’s (a) small, virtually bitesized; (b) served before the meal; and (c) on a cocktail stick.  But surely this is no fancy canapé?  Canapés to me seem to belong at awkward networking events and dreary office parties. 



But who cares, eh?  Because these were brilliant.  I mean, seriously brilliant.  One of the best sausages I’ve ever had, it was rich, smokey and oh-so-juicy – all of the things I have come to expect not to have in the often over-grilled British Barbequed Banger.  Technically this was a weisswurst, a white sausage made from veal and back bacon – I assume it was the long, long hours of smoking that had tuned its final colour.  The pickles it was served with – pink onions and pickled green beans – were fantastic too.

By this stage we’re on to beer number two – the saison.


‘Saison’ is the French word for season, or seasonal (in this instance).  A Belgian style of beer, this one is made with lime zest and particularly fruity hops, and is a real zinger.  Should be good with rich greasy food.  Like BBQ.  Oh what a coincidence.

By now we’re seated in side, at long trestle tables.  There’s something of a seating plan but it’s pretty much easy come easy go, which is nice and relaxed.  Also, they’ve not made the mistake of overcrowding the tables, so it’s comfortable which is a blessed relief and a big change from the norm.  It kinda feels like you can make as many friends from your neighbours as you like or ignore them altogether, whatever is your fancy.  In fact, generally, the vibe is wonderfully relaxed.  There’s no hassle to get in and get out for the next cover, this is take-your-time style eating, laid-back gluttony.  Perfect. 

Soon the food starts trotting out.  Let’s get started with the sides because, you know, I like to leave the best ‘til last. 

So, we have fresh seasonal fruit slaw and jalapeño potato salad. 



OK, so with the slaw I am not sure where the fruit is.  And I don’t like potato salad (actually, there’s a confession about potatoes somewhere on this blog…).  But, if I’m honest, neither really matter because these two sides are rocking.  Seriously, nailed it.  The slaw is crunchy and tasty, without going the way of so many others and being too cloying.  Same goes for the potato salad, which can be a slick of mayo-based sludge populated by the occasional over-boiled spud.  Not so here: It’s delicious, with a smack of dill and punch of jalapeño, this is wonderfully more-ish and leaves a professed potato-dodger coming back for more and more and more. 

I also ordered up a schooner of BBNo’s Session IPA. 


This was similarly delicious.  As any ‘session’ beer ought to be, it was thoroughly drinkable and very tasty.  Another good drop with food. Actually, I should mention at this stage that these aren’t pints, they’re 2/3rd pint glasses, which makes them more manageable and means you can drink a wider variety of beers.  Which has to be a good thing, right?

Now let’s get serious and talk about the meat.  Because, let’s be honest, that’s why you’re still reading this.



Meat comes on a platter, three different types: pork belly (marinated in the Session IPA), lamb shoulder, and beef brisket.  On the side is a little pot of their own BBQ sauce, made today with a BBNo porter. 

Let’s start with the pork. 


This was beautiful – rich, buttery fat had slowly rendered into the meat leaving smoky, soft belly pork that melted in the mouth.  Devine, but sadly too little of it.

The smokiness of all of the meats was something else, something I have not properly had in the UK before, proper Texan.  The meats are smoked for up to 16 hours (!) over a mix of lime, silver birch and English red oak.  The quality of the cooking process really shows – there are no cheats here, no corners cut.   

Then there was the lamb. 


Now, as a general rule, I tend to avoid lamb when eating out and very rarely cook it.  I have nothing against lamb, honestly, it’s just that it can be so very hit-and-miss.  When it’s done well, it’s divine.  When it’s not, I find it way too fatty to be enjoyed.  Fortunately, this was a case of the former.  In fact, this was a case of hole-in-one, knock-your-socks off lamb.  The outer layers were nicely charged and smoky, and the whole meat was slow cooked so that it came away like pulled lamb.  But the flavouring was intense – a dolloping of chopped herbs and spices that left the meat still very much America BBQ-esque but somehow introduced all the European flavours that offset lamb so well.

And brisket.  Brisket is always, always going to be the star of any Texan BBQ show.  BBQ brisket is like a religion over there, as if it were the one essential component that you can’t really skip out.  It is kind of revered, and that’s a pretty heavy burden to have to carry. 


Here it’s executed to perfection.  Just look at it.  It.  Charred and crusted on the outside, there’s a distinct pink edge all the way around showing where the smoke has permeated the meat.  It’s soft as hell – you could spread this stuff on a saltine cracker without difficulty, which from a tough as originally tough as brisket is invariably impressive.  And it was oh so tasty, beautiful smoky meat, oh so good.  The BBQ sauce was a real winner with this too.  As was the porter we sampled as well – properly dark, rich and bitter, it worked wonders with the rich meat. 

Then there was seconds.  SECONDS.  Good stuff. 



(Actually, I think there was way more than seconds – the couple next to us kept asking for more – although we were stuffed by this stage.)

Pudding came too, a millionaire’s brownie – basically a chocolate brownie with a shortbread base and a caramel top – accompanied by bourbon cream and strawberries.


If I’m honest, this wasn’t the highlight.  It was with some relief that it was revealed Howard’s Meat Co. was not responsible for this – it was bought in.  I reckoned it was there because you couldn’t offer lunch to an Englishman without a pudding, but frankly I’d have preferred it if they’d thrown in another beer (the first was free), or shaved a couple of quid off the asking price.  But maybe that’s just me. 

BBNo is running a series of these events – known as Dine Street.  I shall be watch their announcements closely to see what else is on the menu in future.  Provided the quality of food is remains that consistently brilliant, it’s a great thing to do on a Sunday afternoon, a nice break to the same old trip to the pub for roast beef and yorkies.  Similarly, next time I find myself at one of these oh-so-trendy food festivals I shall be keeping my eye out for Howard’s Meat Co. – because there I know I am going to get 100% quality, authentic Texan fare.  Top marks to both.

Monday, 27 April 2015

Jemaa El Fna, Marrakech, Morocco

Just as no tourist trip to Marrakech is complete without a trip to the Jemaa El Fna, the main square at the heart of the Medina, no foodie trip to Marrakech is complete without tucking into the food sold there in prodigious great quantities each night.




By day, the square is a raucous cacophony of snake charmers, Bedouin or Berber dancers, stalls flogging the usual tourist tat – from cheap fez caps (which can be acquired for no more than a couple of quid if you're firm with your haggling) to herbal and mineral remedies to mini tagines and lanterns to false teeth (seriously, get your dentures here on the cheap).  By night its much the same, albeit a touch edgier.  The snake charmers and belly dancers are still there, but they're joined by gambling games and bareknuckle boxers.  But the biggest transformation has to be the food stalls that pop up around dusk and take over a good third of this large public thoroughfare.  The air fills with charcoal smoke and  chaos.  Hundreds of people – mostly local – descend upon the square for an honest, cheap supper.  I read somewhere that this is one of the largest outside eateries in the world.  With 60 to 70 stalls (highly unscientific guesstimate, based on the numbering system, about which I will say more below) I can well believe this. 




The one thing you have to be prepared for is the craziness.  And this is CRAY-CRAY-ZEE.  Seriously.  It's rammed – even in such a big space – and the hustle, bustle and haggle going on is completely on another level.  Even if you've been in Marrakech a few days and made your way through the souks (which are similarly bonkers) I still recommend that you brace yourself before diving into the narrow alleyways between the Jemaa's food stalls. 

It's pretty easy really.  In one sense, despite the huge number of stalls available, you've got actually only got a limited number of options.  Setting aside what I'll describe as 'sweets' (after dinner treats) there's really three options:

1. Snails.



2. Eggs.


3. Mixed Grill (the biggest and most popular offering).






We went for the latter.  Once you've decided on your cuisine for the evening (and honestly, you don’t really need to decide – there's nothing to stop you digging in at lots of different stalls and so trying a bit of everything) you need to decide which eatery you're going to patronise for the evening.  This is where, in the other sense, there's an almost bewildering number of options.

You remember I mentioned the numbering system?  Well, here's where it comes into play.  You see, each stall is numbered.  There's a separate set of numbering for every kind of stall – whether it's grilled meat, eggs, snails, orange juice, fruit and nuts or tea, they all have a set of numbers identifying each stall starting with one.  In the case of the grills, they can go pretty high.  In the case of the snails, there are only four or five.  Here are some examples. 

Knowing where to go is key, I'm told, as some of the stalls are dodgier than others, and some are (apparently) much better than others.  As you wander through the 'alleyways' you'll be accosted by dozens of young men trying to sell their stalls.  Some will claim theirs is "the best in Marrakech!"  Others will, perhaps more honestly, cry out that their stall sells "the same old craps as everyone else!"  How you are supposed to get a handle on this, I don't know – we went with a tip from our riad owner, who's lived in Marrakech for 11 years.  So I guess, if anyone, she's likely to know.  She recommended stalls 1 and 14.  We plumped for Number 1.  

Once you've picked your stall, one of the stall hawkers will usher you to a seat, thrust a greasy menu under your nose and take your order. 



We dived in.  it's very easy to over order, by the way.  Honest.  It's cheap as chips – so cheap, for example, that we assumed that an order of chicken brochette contained just one brochette.  It actually contained six. 


So here we go:

First up, fried aubergine.  Delicious, end of.  The produce in Morocco is (largely) very fresh and tasty, and this was no exception.  Aubergine takes well to being fried and this stuff was clearly grilled a little as well afterwards, as it had a smoky tinge.  Aubergine and smoke works well together – think of baba ghanoush.  


There was also some spinach topped with marinated olives.  Avoid this.  GrubsterGirl said it tasted like grass.  I thought it looked suspiciously like the stuff that comes out of my Dad's mulch mower and tasted pretty much what I imagine that mulch tastes like.  A rare miss.


We also had fritters, described on the French menu as beignet.  Nothing like the beignet of New Orleans (in hindsight, what on earth was I honestly expecting?) these were sort of vegetable and dough fritters.  Again, could have left out, but not offensive.  GrubsterGirl enjoyed them. 



On to the MEAT.  This is what we're here for, right?  

First up, chicken brochettes, which I have already mentioned.  These were yums.  The chicken was smoky and charry, as one would expect having been cooked over hot coals.  It was also highly spiced and highly tasty, with the chicken remaining good and moist, despite the searing. 



Next up, koftas.  Lamb or beef?  No idea – seriously.  You might think it’s easy to tell the difference between them, but that aint always true, especially when they're spiced and grilled to perfection the way these were.  I ere on the side of lamb, but I won’t be placing any cash on that.  But, importantly, they were great.  Not even the slightest hint of gristle, which so often accompanies cheap minced meats. 



Then there were the merguez.  Or mini sausages to you and me.  Merguez in fact are more commonly spiced beef sausages, but our batch seemed to be mixed – no bad thing, seeing how they were all equally tasty.  Being an Englishman through and through, I love a barbequed sausage – the only thing missing was the perpetual drizzle of any English summer day that inspires a BBQ.  These were, needless to say, a far cry from your English barbequed banger, but they were very yummy too.  Fresh off the grill they oozed sausagey goodness.


And finally, a pastilla.    



This is a Moroccan staple, a filo pie stuffed with pigeon and alsmonds (and, in this case, peanuts too), flavoured with cinnamon and dusted with icing sugar.  It's the kind of dish that doesn’t know whether it’s coming of going, whether it's a savoury snack or a sweet pudding.  And it's neither, in a way.  It's nice, sure, but confusing – and I like the whole sweet and savoury thing, honestly – but this is just too confused.  And it’s also a bit dry.  And, paradoxically (given its eclectic range of ingredients), a little bit dull.  I could take it or leave it, if I'm honest – but definitely worth a try given it's status in Moroccan cuisine. 



So you've had your fill, what's next?  Well, pudding of course.  You've now got two choices – fruit and nuts, from the stalls piled high around the south end of the market (towards Café de France)...



...or the abundant handcarts overladen with pastry treats.  Much like baklava, these morsels of filo pastry, nuts and honey are a sweet and satisfying end to a meal.





The of course you just have to wash it all down with a glass of the ubiquitous orange juice that's dotted around the square.  Once again, head for a stall that's being patronised by locals, as that way you're more likely to get pure juice rather than watered down mix.  Some locals go for it with a spoonful of sugar in, which... I just can't... Also, most stalls will flog you grapefruit or lemon juice as an alternative, but at 28p a glass of OJ, you can't really go wrong with the original stuff.




And to finish the night?  Well, there's a large number of stalls along the western side of the market selling khoudenjal from huge copper samovars.  We thought it might be mint tea.  But instead we got a tea of cinnamon, mace, galangal, ginger, cloves, nutmeg, black pepper and star anise.  There is also plenty of sugar in there (no surprises). 



It was delicious, but quite a potent mixture to get through.  It was only on returning to the UK and looking it up that I discovered that this drink is colloquially known as 'Morrocan Viagra' and is said to be a potent aphrodisiac.  Oh well.  No harm done.



The Jemaa El Fna is a food experience like no other I have ever experienced.  It's bonkers, literally, but the food is good, cheap and hugely varied.  I expect many travellers take one look and see nothing but endless bouts of food poisoning, but frankly everything seemed clean and well ordered.  It was a great evening and I recommend it to anyone travelling to Marrakech.

 - GrubsterBoy -