Meringue Roulade with Peach-Poached Raspberries and Almond Cream

It's April, several weeks into the beginning of spring and yet mercury refuses to do much to acknowledge the fact. Okay, today reached nearly 20*, but tomorrow it's predicted to be halved. The meteorologists must have gotten some whiff of the dire and desperate mood of the population, as for once they've refused to even hint from whence this persistent rain chill got itself blown in from, and we are left with no-one to blame and an increasingly careless attitude towards bikini season creeping ever closer.

I'm trying to stay cheerful while bundled up in layers of blankets and a cat, (Poppy got a little careless with her choice of napping sites and is currently firmly wrapped and lost somewhere in the region of my lower back - usefully, where that gap between jumper and trouser normally lets in a draft). I keep reminding myself of how thankful I'll be when all those I'm stalking on Facebook out of sun-envy look like leather alligators in 20 years. I may be wracked with rickets by July, but I will be porcelain skinned and wrinkle-free for a century.

And so while the temperatures refuse to budge much beyond 10*, this blog becomes much less about the importance of cloches and manure (does anyone doubt it?) and much more about the beguiling nature of recipes involving the word 'dollop'.

'...of cream?!'

Like this one, based a recipe by my secret BFF Nigel.

 Mr. Slater once again came good, this time with a delicious gooey, crinchy (combination of 'crunchy' and 'crispy', totally applicable where meringue is concerned) fruity roll of temptation. My fiddling with his genius came from over-tart raspberries (strictly seasonal foodies crow in triumph) and a lack of flaked almonds.

Again, I fail you with a total lack of finished product photos. I'd like to say it just didn't last long enough, but in fact it was HUGE and then I'd also have to gloss over the rather impressive warding off of inquisitive fingers with little more than a small wooden spoon and an empty cardboard kitchen roll.
No, it was more down to failing light and the limitations of an early model iphone camera.

Serves 8

You will need:

 for the meringue - 

6 egg whites

280g caster sugar

1 heaped tablespoon cornflour

teaspoon mild white wine vinegar

approx. 33 x 24 cm rectangular tin

 for the filling

handful toasted coconut flakes

juice from a tin of peaches

400g of tart raspberries, tayberries, strawberries or loganberries

300ml double cream

.5 tsp almond extract

Preheat the oven to 220*c/gas mark 7. Line the tin with non-stick kitchen foil moulding the foil up and over the sides. Brush lightly with flavourless cooking oil (I used sunflower) and set aside. 

Place a sheet of baking paper on a flat surface and sprinkle over with caster sugar. You'll tip out the meringue onto this later. 

Beat the egg whites, slowly adding the caster sugar until the meringue becomes light and fluffy. Add the cornflour and vinegar and stir gently till totally Incorporated then pour and spread the meringue mixture into the tin. Bake for ten minutes, using a baking shelf if the top is colouring too quickly, then lower the heat to 160* and bake for about fifteen minutes more, or until the top is a lovely golden brown. 

Once baked, remove from the oven, carefully tip out onto the sugar covered baking paper. Peel off the kitchen foil which came with it and leave to cool. 

While the meringue is baking, prepare the peach-poached raspberries. 

Rinse the raspberries and shake off any excess drips. Pour the peach juice into a shallow frying pan and boil until the juice has thickened

Pour the cream into a cool bowl and whisk until it just holds its shape. Add the almond extract very gently, starting out with just half of the amount above and adding more if you like. Half a teaspoon worked for me, but it's seriously potent stuff, so better too little than too much. 

Spread the almond cream over the meringue, going right out to the edges, then sprinkle over the toasted coconut flakes.

Mine stored in an bowl covered in clingfilm perfectly fine for a day in the fridge and was quickly eroded spoonful by spoonful by furtive fridge raiders.

 

Piggy Post

 

Omm nom nom nom nom nom 

Who doesn't enjoy a post of piggies? These are Berkshires. Black and white and renowned for their flavour, these two are just a few months old but very keen on their grub. 

I'd love to have a pair of pigs someday. Grub and Nosh here are owned by a family friend in Hereford and while they're lovingly tended and turned out into luxury pig-land with lots of room to root and roam, they're destined for the pot. Just as mine will be. 

Dreams of parma hams, black puddings and savoury sausages are never far behind the sight of a well-fed pig, happily smacking his way through what ever treats hes found himself. A happy life and joy-giving food should be a connection we all make when it comes to meat.

Salt Sugar Smoke and truly ah-mazing Russian Caravan Tea Brined Chicken (injected awesomeness optional)

 Firstly, this book. You need it. It's by Diana Henry and it's amazing.

And so packed full of goodies, you just don't know where to start.

 

I was lucky enough to be given it (cheers Aunties Helen & Alice!) and within about five minutes of ripping off the paper I was hooked. When I got home I was a little bit overexcited and may have bashed out half a dozen recipes in the space of an afternoon: tackling everything from pickling sweet cherries and inky black grapes in thick spiced unctuous potions to eagerly rubbing a side of salmon with whisky and brown sugar for homemade gravlax. All worked, all are good, but this. This one with the chicken you have to try. I tweaked it a bit, using smoked tea, reducing the salt a tiny bit and adding another, more perforating side to the brining. 

Secondly, let me explain the awesomeness option. You see, this recipe is excellent and delicious from whatever end you approach it, injection or no, but- should you choose, you can increase the detectability with one of the weirdest and totally worth it pieces of kit available to cooks with the need to push the boundaries. Get ready, it’s the MEAT INJECTOR!!

Dhun, dhun, dhunnnn.

Now, the squeals of those with needle sensitivities need not drown out the natural (and mayyybe slightly morbid) fascination of the giant-sized needle and syringe contraption that I’m promoting here. The thing is so huge, anyone who has or can when called upon apply a dollop of common sense will quickly realise its just too big and cartooney for trypanophobia to really apply. Can you handle kitchen knives? And we acknowledge they carry poking risks of their own? Okay then.

You shall need...

4 tblsp or 6 teabags of Russian caravan, lapsang souchong or other smokey tea. I used Char’s Russian Caravan loose leaf tea.

250g brown sugar
80 g sea salt
Two lots of 3.5 pints water, one for the initial brewing of the brine, the other to add to it to help cover the chicken.
1 orange, juiced and zested
25g butter - I like to smash mine together with chopped herbs and garlic in a mortar and pestle.


1 Chicken or 2 pheasants

Firstly, make your brine. DON’T taste it.*                                    

Juice and zest the orange, adding them to a pot large enough to contain your chook.  You can cheat and use orange juice (1 cup) if, like me, you live for oranges and have snaffled all the real ones.

Simmer 2 cups of water and add the tea straight to the pot once it’s come off the boil (tea dosen’t need boiling water. In fact, it can make it bitter. Green and white teas especially suffer from being scorched and fight back with harsh grassy tannins. Yuck.).

Stir in the salt and sugar and poke it about till they've dissolved. Leave the tea and brine solution to sit and think about itself for around 10 min, which lets the tea fully infuse and make a nice strong brew.

*Told you.

Pour the tea brine through a strainer into the pot (to catch any leaves) and give the orange/tea/salt/sugar brine a good stir round. Add the other lot of water and set aside till completely cold. Why completely cold? We're going to be letting the raw chicken sit in the solution for a day or so and, while thus far I've not even flirted with food poisoning, I'd never advise ever putting a chicken in the fridge in a warm or hot bath. The insulation of the fridge can actually keep the water hotter for longer, increasing the likelihood of bacteria breeding all over our lovely chicken.

Now the fun bit. If you don't want to do the fun bit, then simply plop the chicken in the cold brine, cover and refrigerate for 12-24 hours.

If you want to do the fun bit:

Suck up the cold brine into the syringe, keeping an eye out for needle-clogging orange bits. Poke the needle about 1-2 cm into the breast of the chicken and press down on the plunger until all the juice is injected into the chicken. Repeat 3 more times evenly over different areas of the breast, then repeat on the thighs and legs. The chicken will puff up impressively as you inject more brine into it.

Watch out for poking right through the chicken and injecting uselessly into the empty body cavity.  Also, especially when doing the legs and thighs, keep tabs on where the needle is headed and where your other fingers are. It's too big to easily poke you like a normal hypodermic needle would, but safety first. 

Once you've finished, place the chicken into the brine and allow it to wallow, covered and turning every few hours overnight.

Three hours before roasting time, drain the chicken and pat dry before replacing into the fridge to dry even more.

Slip the butter under the skin around the breasts, using your fingers to widge around and loosen the skin first, then roast at 180*C/350*F/gas mark 4 for 20 min per 450g/1 lb. Keep an eye on the it as the sugar in the brine will cause it to brown more quickly than a normal chicken and the skin can quickly burn before the rest of the bird is cooked. Check at least once before the halfway mark and have a piece of pierced tinfoil to hand to make a little tent over the bird(s) once they've reached a nice golden brown.

Carve and serve with tasty winter salad leaves and a gravy made with sage leaves and the dark juices of the bird.

Land Cress makes a delicious addition to winter meals and it's so easy to grow! Sow in March and April for summer crops, then again in September and November for slow and steady growth overwinter.

Salmon ceviche on toast with ricotta and courgette

...or 'zucchini' to those reading state-side.

First off, let me apologise for lack of pictures. I have reasons!
A. my kitchen is literally under ground, so if it isn't reeeally sunny, everything the camera sees looks orange.  B. My cat is the spawn of something extreemly feral and with that amount of hard-to-find-this-fresh, arm-and-a-leg salmon in one place I wasn't going to risk get distracted with fiddling around with the micro settings.
C. You try catching her.

Annnnd there may have been a tiny shallow piece of me that didn't want a fishy smelling camera -but, I will make it in the daytime, put the cat Outside and man up next time. Promise.

Now, what is ceviche? Well, it's essentially raw fish which has been immersed in a lemony/limey/orangey bath with herbs and spices. The citric acid in the lemon/lime/orange/etc juice denatures the proteins in the fish making it appear cooked, which you can see almost immediately when you add the salmon to the marinade. Cool, huh? Food poisoning is still possible which is why, like sushi, you use the absolute freshest fish available and console yourself with dreaming about it otherwise.

1 boneless fillet of spankin' fresh salmon per person.*
Juice of 2 limes and 1 orange
2 tsp sea salt
2 garlic cloves, crushed

1-2 slices of crusty white bread
Enough ricotta cheese to spread over the bread (in a pinch, cream cheese works too)
Few sprigs dill 

1 courgette, cut into thick matchsticks
1 bell pepper, cut into similar sized pieces
1 table spoon butter

*It's really worth chilling the salmon in the fridge or freezer so that its firmer and a lot easier to slice when the time comes. You can also have the fishmonger skin it and give it the once over for pesky bones if you ask nicely. 

Juice the limes and orange into a non-reactive bowl (i.e. enamelled, stoneware, glass or Tupperware), then add the salt and garlic cloves.
Thinly slice the salmon sides, turning the knife parallel when you come to the skin to keep it from coming away with the meat. Be careful and experiment, you'll get the knack. Add the sliced salmon to the salty, garlicky citrus juice and stir to coat. Pop into the fridge for 30 min, then drain.

Get the drained salmon, bread, cheese and stir fry veggies to hand and ready to assemble because a very large part of this dish's detectability depends on that contrast of hot and cold, soft and crunchy.

Put the bread on to toast and immediately after melt the butter in a frying pan and add the bell pepper and courgette. Stir fry for 3-5 min (the smaller the pieces the less cooking time) or until the veggies are hot but still have some crunch.

Take the still-warm toasted bread and spread with ricotta. Sprinkle with the dill, then pile on the hot veggies and top with the salmon ceviche. Serve straight away.

Also works brilliantly with cold avocado and thinly sliced raw fennel in place of the courgettes and maybe chives instead of/with the dill.