That's right, today's 'I can't believe I never thought of that tiny touch but oh my word I'm so glad you did' tip is courtesy of Gordon Ramsay himself, by way of his quite delightful 'Christmas with Gordon' specials. He can cook! He has a gorgeous set of kids! It's not just all swearing and throwing pots & pans about!
So... Little drummer boy drum roll...
Add a touch of chili flakes to the oil when you make roast potatoes. OH MY WORD it makes you very popular! Plus your taste buds will absolutely tap dance!
At a recent family gathering I made potato and sweet potato wedges, crazy-style:
Wash potatoes (I rationed a 1.5 potatoes:1 person serve) and cut into rough wedge shapes, peel-on. Depending on the size of your spud you may need to go for sixths, eighths or twelfths, as long as the end product is roughly the same width for even cooking.
Chuck wedge cuts into a freezer/microwaveable bag. Microwave for a few minutes. In the meantime wash and chop into wedges your sweet potatoes, and then add to same freezer bag as potatoes. Microwave again holusbolus for a few more minutes. Leave in micro in bag to self steam whilst you deal with the lamb or other vegies.
Then, wearing oven mitts (!) pull the bag out. Pour in some olive oil, grind in some salt and pepper then add half a teaspoon of dried chili flakes. Twist the top of he bag shut and toss the mix to coat the wedges well. Empty out ini a roasting pan/tray then cook in the oven on 180-200 degrees for as long as it takes for them to be done, or at least after you've joined the guests for a glass of wine and some antipasto for starters!
I promise you, the zing of the chili will be just the top note you need to really make your next roast sing! Thanks Gordon!!!
Showing posts with label roast. Show all posts
Showing posts with label roast. Show all posts
21 September 2012
01 June 2012
Fuztastic Fennel
...and a handsome fellow he is too...
So, it's only in recent history that I've discovered how much I like fennel. The first time I cooked it was an absolute disaster. To this day I still have no idea if it was hideously undercooked or a bad specimen. I had had such delicious fennel dishes (or usually as a side salad, often with orange) that I persisted with trial and error.
I now know it is delicious both raw (snap off some of the smaller inner pieces as a pretty and delicious fingerfood addition to an antipasto plate; or shave/slice thinly and dress for a fast and delicious salad) or roasted. You can eat all the parts - the fluffy leafies can be used as a very similar replacement for dill; the stalks and bulbs are crunchalicious and the seeds are (as Simon on The Cook and The Chef reminds us) the cause of the distinctive Italian pork and fennel sausages.
After lots of trial and error, my preferred method for roasting is as follows:
Roasted Fennel / Warm Fennel Salad
Line a large roasting pan with baking paper; and spray some olive oil on. Preheat oven.
Wash two large fennel bulbs (usually sold with about 3 inches of stalks and leaves poking out in a very mohawky style). Tear off the fluffy leaves and place into the roasting pan. Slice off the stalks from the bulb, slice off and discard top dried out portion, then slice stalks thinly and chuck into roasting pan. Cut the bulbs in half and slice very thinly. Try not to nibble on ALL the inner "petals" as chef's privileges whilst doing so, I challenge you! Place slices into roasting pan.
Drain (and -optional- cut in half) a small jar (or half a large jar) of pitted kalamata olives.
Mix fennel, a splash or spray of olive oil and a splash of white wine (or if you're detoxing water will do).
Cut a whole dwarf meyer lemon (or if you don't grow these on your balcony, half a regular lemon) in half lengthways, squeeze juice over contents of roasting pan then very very exquisitely (but don't cut yourself - lemon juice! ouchie!) thinly slice the lemon rind/flesh and put into the roasting pan on top (so people can opt to pick it off if they can't hack it).
Basically I tailor this to whatever else is in the oven. For al dente - if you want a quick cook go for 200° and 30-45 minutes (consider adding aluminium foil cover to prevent burning; if doing a roast or bake at 180° at the same time it will take you 45-75 minutes; slow roasting meat as well at 160°, will take approx 90 minutes - just keep checking back and taste for consistency, and mix occasionally to avoid too many top burnt bits.
Serve as a side dish or a large salad. Goes particularly well with the roast chicken a la Mediterranean that I have previously described.
To be honest, I hadn't blogged sooner about this mainstay of my vegie repertoire because it all seemed too simple. However, the simple things in life are often the most delicious. The other day I had heaps of this dish leftover, and a huge bag of Imperial mandarins - all good things to take advantage of in winter - and I had an epiphany - reheat this dish and top with thin (half a centimetre) slices of mandarin and hey presto - heaven is a place on earth in winter! Enjoy!
So, it's only in recent history that I've discovered how much I like fennel. The first time I cooked it was an absolute disaster. To this day I still have no idea if it was hideously undercooked or a bad specimen. I had had such delicious fennel dishes (or usually as a side salad, often with orange) that I persisted with trial and error.
I now know it is delicious both raw (snap off some of the smaller inner pieces as a pretty and delicious fingerfood addition to an antipasto plate; or shave/slice thinly and dress for a fast and delicious salad) or roasted. You can eat all the parts - the fluffy leafies can be used as a very similar replacement for dill; the stalks and bulbs are crunchalicious and the seeds are (as Simon on The Cook and The Chef reminds us) the cause of the distinctive Italian pork and fennel sausages.
After lots of trial and error, my preferred method for roasting is as follows:
Roasted Fennel / Warm Fennel Salad
Line a large roasting pan with baking paper; and spray some olive oil on. Preheat oven.
Wash two large fennel bulbs (usually sold with about 3 inches of stalks and leaves poking out in a very mohawky style). Tear off the fluffy leaves and place into the roasting pan. Slice off the stalks from the bulb, slice off and discard top dried out portion, then slice stalks thinly and chuck into roasting pan. Cut the bulbs in half and slice very thinly. Try not to nibble on ALL the inner "petals" as chef's privileges whilst doing so, I challenge you! Place slices into roasting pan.
Drain (and -optional- cut in half) a small jar (or half a large jar) of pitted kalamata olives.
Mix fennel, a splash or spray of olive oil and a splash of white wine (or if you're detoxing water will do).
Cut a whole dwarf meyer lemon (or if you don't grow these on your balcony, half a regular lemon) in half lengthways, squeeze juice over contents of roasting pan then very very exquisitely (but don't cut yourself - lemon juice! ouchie!) thinly slice the lemon rind/flesh and put into the roasting pan on top (so people can opt to pick it off if they can't hack it).
Basically I tailor this to whatever else is in the oven. For al dente - if you want a quick cook go for 200° and 30-45 minutes (consider adding aluminium foil cover to prevent burning; if doing a roast or bake at 180° at the same time it will take you 45-75 minutes; slow roasting meat as well at 160°, will take approx 90 minutes - just keep checking back and taste for consistency, and mix occasionally to avoid too many top burnt bits.
Serve as a side dish or a large salad. Goes particularly well with the roast chicken a la Mediterranean that I have previously described.
To be honest, I hadn't blogged sooner about this mainstay of my vegie repertoire because it all seemed too simple. However, the simple things in life are often the most delicious. The other day I had heaps of this dish leftover, and a huge bag of Imperial mandarins - all good things to take advantage of in winter - and I had an epiphany - reheat this dish and top with thin (half a centimetre) slices of mandarin and hey presto - heaven is a place on earth in winter! Enjoy!
11 January 2012
Making friends with ovens with chicken
It was the turn of the century (sounds classier than "entering the noughties"). I was watching TV and channel surfing ("you're worse than a man!" was one of my ex-boyfriend's exasperated cry once) as I do. My puny ADHD brain managed to pause just long enough on the lovely Stefano's Gondola on the Murray TV show (at least I think that's what it was) to see a lovely family picnic dish of moist, tomatoey chicken with crispy parmesan and oregano crust surrounding by a loving nest of potato wedges. That image has burned itself into the "comfort food" lobe of my brain, and I have made this dish (in many Impressionist brushstrokes incarnations) more times than I can count as a go-to for dinner parties, a nice treat for myself or comfort food in times of disquiet.
As I am currently living in employer-provided accommodation in the desert, and was a teensy bit unwell and homesick, here is the latest version to prove yes, you can make friends with ovens, no matter how basic and crochetty they may be, and even if you are cooking with disposable tinfoil trays for want of an actual roasting pan:
For comparison, here is an earlier study of the same work ("Chicken descending staircase with pyrex frame, real oven method #2" I like to call it):
"Enough painterly analogies!" I hear you cry. So here is the (or my version of a sort-of) recipe (idealised, open to intrepation, and I do):
MEDITERRANEAN ROASTED CHICKEN AND POTATO WEDGES IN ONE PAN
Ingredients:
Ideally 8 skinless chicken thighs (or 500g to a kilo of chicken, depending on shop tray sizes)
6 medium potatoes or equivalent
Tub or sachet of tomato paste
Similar amount of water
Similar amount of white wine
A squeeze of lemon juice
- or, a jar of pre-made tomatoey pasta sauce (as in picture #1)
Olive oil spray or neat
Dried oregano (or marjoram; or twice as much fresh, or a mixture of both)
Parmesan cheese (powdered is fine)
Cracked black pepper
A touch of salt
An optional handful of kalamata olives and/or halved cherry or grape tomatoes.
Method:
Use a generous sized roasting pan (or tinfoil BBQ tray).
Preheat oven to 180-200 degrees.
Cut potatoes into wedges, peeling optional. Microwave or parboil them before or after wedging until just cooked. Coat with a light sheen of olive oil, salt lightly, pepper heavily, generously apply oregano and parmesan. Arrange around the edge of the roasting pan.
Cut the chicken thighs in halves or if using other chicken parts cut into manageable and/or uniform sizes (I prefer thighs, then drumsticks, then wings, less so breast meat for this dish). Place pieces and drained olives in centre of roasting pan surrounded by potato fortress. Apply tomato paste + water + wine/instapastasauce and lemon juice, and mix until chicken is coated well. Some staining of nearby potatoes is encouraged. Over entire pan apply liberal amounts of cracked pepper, oregano and parmesan which will form crispy crust of deliciousness.
Place entire pan into oven. The dish will take roughly 45 minutes to 90 minutes to cook depending on how much you have put in the pan and how crap your (albeit rent free) oven is. Have tinfoil to cover the dish for the first 15-30 minutes of cooking then uncover to allow to crisp up the crust.
Serve with a salad of cos and avocado with lemon/olive oil/thyme dressing; or a roasted fennel salad depending on the season.
Best enjoyed with a big group of friends at a dinner party (chuck it all in the oven, then drink with your friends while the place fills up with the awesome aroma) or picnic (just carry the whole big dish to the rug or table) - who will ooh, aah then say nothing at all as they stuff their faces. Surprisingly, this dish is also good as a simple "keeps well" dish for sectioning off into take-away boxes for a week's worth of work food that you definitely won't get sick of!
As I am currently living in employer-provided accommodation in the desert, and was a teensy bit unwell and homesick, here is the latest version to prove yes, you can make friends with ovens, no matter how basic and crochetty they may be, and even if you are cooking with disposable tinfoil trays for want of an actual roasting pan:
For comparison, here is an earlier study of the same work ("Chicken descending staircase with pyrex frame, real oven method #2" I like to call it):
"Enough painterly analogies!" I hear you cry. So here is the (or my version of a sort-of) recipe (idealised, open to intrepation, and I do):
MEDITERRANEAN ROASTED CHICKEN AND POTATO WEDGES IN ONE PAN
Ingredients:
Ideally 8 skinless chicken thighs (or 500g to a kilo of chicken, depending on shop tray sizes)
6 medium potatoes or equivalent
Tub or sachet of tomato paste
Similar amount of water
Similar amount of white wine
A squeeze of lemon juice
- or, a jar of pre-made tomatoey pasta sauce (as in picture #1)
Olive oil spray or neat
Dried oregano (or marjoram; or twice as much fresh, or a mixture of both)
Parmesan cheese (powdered is fine)
Cracked black pepper
A touch of salt
An optional handful of kalamata olives and/or halved cherry or grape tomatoes.
Method:
Use a generous sized roasting pan (or tinfoil BBQ tray).
Preheat oven to 180-200 degrees.
Cut potatoes into wedges, peeling optional. Microwave or parboil them before or after wedging until just cooked. Coat with a light sheen of olive oil, salt lightly, pepper heavily, generously apply oregano and parmesan. Arrange around the edge of the roasting pan.
Cut the chicken thighs in halves or if using other chicken parts cut into manageable and/or uniform sizes (I prefer thighs, then drumsticks, then wings, less so breast meat for this dish). Place pieces and drained olives in centre of roasting pan surrounded by potato fortress. Apply tomato paste + water + wine/instapastasauce and lemon juice, and mix until chicken is coated well. Some staining of nearby potatoes is encouraged. Over entire pan apply liberal amounts of cracked pepper, oregano and parmesan which will form crispy crust of deliciousness.
Place entire pan into oven. The dish will take roughly 45 minutes to 90 minutes to cook depending on how much you have put in the pan and how crap your (albeit rent free) oven is. Have tinfoil to cover the dish for the first 15-30 minutes of cooking then uncover to allow to crisp up the crust.
Serve with a salad of cos and avocado with lemon/olive oil/thyme dressing; or a roasted fennel salad depending on the season.
Best enjoyed with a big group of friends at a dinner party (chuck it all in the oven, then drink with your friends while the place fills up with the awesome aroma) or picnic (just carry the whole big dish to the rug or table) - who will ooh, aah then say nothing at all as they stuff their faces. Surprisingly, this dish is also good as a simple "keeps well" dish for sectioning off into take-away boxes for a week's worth of work food that you definitely won't get sick of!
17 August 2011
Last night's Lamb dinner
We've been watching a lot of The Hairy Bikers' Food Tour of Britain DVDs lately. Yesterday, we watched them in Wales(?) and they did a delicious trio of lamb, one of which was herb-crusted rack of lamb. I've never done a rack of lamb (I usually just do a mini-roast or leg roast), so here's what they inspired me to do...
Herb-crust Rack of Lamb
Sautéed Brussel Sprouts
Roast Potatoes
& a simple side of Cauliflower
Herb-crust Rack of Lamb:
The herb-crust I made in my trusty blender and it consisted of: a big handful of chopped up baguette to make the breadcrumbs; then a handful each of fresh rosemary & mint, a generous handful of flat/continental parsley; a dozen pistachios; a pinch each of salt, pepper; a small mound of grated parmesan and a splash of olive oil when my blender started making noises like it was about to blow up. I think next time I will need a higher breadcrumb to herb ratio. And remind me to add more salt.
I bought a supermarket frenched rack of lamb, let it rest at room temp then browned all the surfaces on a frying pan with some heated olive oil. Once browned I popped it on a board and made diagonal scores across the fatty surface on top, then smeared with some (mild) Australian-blend mustard.
I then spooned and hand-smooshed the crumby crust mixture all over and around the lamb rack, and it stuck to the mustard quite easily. Then a bit of foil around the bones and I put it in the oven at 190 degrees for 20 minutes. Whilst Mme Fulton's Encyclopaedia of Food assured me this was the perfect way to do a rack, this brought it to "blue", and fuelled suspicions that my oven is a tad under-calibrated, so a turn-up to 200 degrees, and another 10-15 minutes and it was then perfectly medium-rare.
Roast potatoes:
I started this well before the rack of lamb - just put three whole potatoes in the microwave and set "jacket potato x3", once cooked chopped into quarters, put them in a freezer bag and poured in some olive oil and seasoned with salt and pepper and then "bashed" them around for a bit to make rough surfaces for better browning. That went into the 190 degree oven just after the making of the herb crust but before the handling of the lamb.
Brussel sprouts:
I boiled these in very salted water until soft. Whilst boiling I put the lamb-browning pan back on the heat and added a knob of butter then whatever was left of the breadcrumb/herb-crust mix from the blender and a handful of thinly sliced ham (didn't have any bacon, apparently) until these had browned, then tossed in the drained brussel sprouts until they were coated and golden.
The cauliflower was just boiled in the brussel sprout pot.
Et voila! A delicious lamb dinner, inspired by those cheeky Hairy Bikers. Wa-hey!
Herb-crust Rack of Lamb
Sautéed Brussel Sprouts
Roast Potatoes
& a simple side of Cauliflower
Herb-crust Rack of Lamb:
The herb-crust I made in my trusty blender and it consisted of: a big handful of chopped up baguette to make the breadcrumbs; then a handful each of fresh rosemary & mint, a generous handful of flat/continental parsley; a dozen pistachios; a pinch each of salt, pepper; a small mound of grated parmesan and a splash of olive oil when my blender started making noises like it was about to blow up. I think next time I will need a higher breadcrumb to herb ratio. And remind me to add more salt.
I bought a supermarket frenched rack of lamb, let it rest at room temp then browned all the surfaces on a frying pan with some heated olive oil. Once browned I popped it on a board and made diagonal scores across the fatty surface on top, then smeared with some (mild) Australian-blend mustard.
I then spooned and hand-smooshed the crumby crust mixture all over and around the lamb rack, and it stuck to the mustard quite easily. Then a bit of foil around the bones and I put it in the oven at 190 degrees for 20 minutes. Whilst Mme Fulton's Encyclopaedia of Food assured me this was the perfect way to do a rack, this brought it to "blue", and fuelled suspicions that my oven is a tad under-calibrated, so a turn-up to 200 degrees, and another 10-15 minutes and it was then perfectly medium-rare.
Roast potatoes:
I started this well before the rack of lamb - just put three whole potatoes in the microwave and set "jacket potato x3", once cooked chopped into quarters, put them in a freezer bag and poured in some olive oil and seasoned with salt and pepper and then "bashed" them around for a bit to make rough surfaces for better browning. That went into the 190 degree oven just after the making of the herb crust but before the handling of the lamb.
Brussel sprouts:
I boiled these in very salted water until soft. Whilst boiling I put the lamb-browning pan back on the heat and added a knob of butter then whatever was left of the breadcrumb/herb-crust mix from the blender and a handful of thinly sliced ham (didn't have any bacon, apparently) until these had browned, then tossed in the drained brussel sprouts until they were coated and golden.
The cauliflower was just boiled in the brussel sprout pot.
Et voila! A delicious lamb dinner, inspired by those cheeky Hairy Bikers. Wa-hey!
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