by Lee on January 27, 2009
There’s nothing wrong with breakfast cereal. It’s quick and filling, which are the two biggest boxes to tick Monday to Friday. But that’s all it is. At the weekend, you deserve more – something hot, for a start. For me, often it’s a full English, or a part English if I’m feeling lazy (bacon, beans and a fried egg) or if I’m all porked out, so to speak, I’ll go fishy… so to speak.
What I’m trying to say is, this weekend shun Mr Kellogg and go with me instead.
Hot smoked mackerel with beans and a fried egg
Like the Full English, it doesn’t really warrant a recipe. Buy mackerel, buy beans, buy eggs – make hot. You might want to remove the packaging first, and in the case of the egg – crack it into some sort of pan – but that’s the only real guidance I can give you. And if you need that sort of help then presumably you’re reading a crumpled print out of this page, which somehow found its way under the stairs in your gran’s house, where you live. The thought of which leaves me with mixed feelings.
1. Happiness – that someone liked this post enough to print it.
2. Disappointment – that this Judas then decided, not only to crumple it up, but to ‘lose’ it in a weird place.
3. Pity – for you, because you actually live underneath the stairs at your gran’s house, and what’s more, think it’s perfectly acceptable to put a bag full of shopping directly into a hot oven.
There is of course a small chance that you’re a normal person, and you’re thinking, ‘they don’t look like ordinary baked beans’.
Actually, you’re right. I made those from a can of butter beans, a can of tomatoes, a clove of garlic, a teaspoon of mild curry power (always great with smoked fish, think kedgeree) and a splodge (13ml) of Reggae Reggae sauce – all cooked together until very thick.
Which is something, my eagled eyed reader, you quite plainly are not.
by Lee on January 24, 2009
I remember the day I fell in love with curry. It was Monday 22nd September 1997 – my first day at University in Bradford. I’d had English Mum Curry before, that 1980s sultana-ed creation of leftover chicken and curry powder but this, thankfully, was something quite different.
It was a chicken dhansak from the Shezan restaurant on Great Horton Road. I remember the waiter asking whether I wanted rice or something he called ‘chapattis’. I plumped for the latter. He could have brought me a pile of judges’ wigs and I wouldn’t have questioned it. Thankfully he didn’t, as that wouldn’t have worked with the cumin in the sauce.
Looking back, that dhansak was about as authentic as a shoddily blacked-up Uri Geller, miming to I Shot The Sheriff (the Eric Clapton version) with a broken tennis racket for a guitar. That’s right: it had pineapple in it. Nonetheless, at the time it was a stuff of wonderment. Sour, sweet, spicy and thick with lentils, that meal changed my life. From that day to this, I have had an unhealthy obsession with eating and making curry.
Karahi Lamb with Chickpeas and Roasted Cumin
If you’ve ever been to one of the quality Pakistani eateries in the UK (places like Tayyabs and Lahore Kebab House in London) you’ll be familiar with the joys of karahi lamb: a dry, rich, dark curry cooked in a wok. I have eaten more than a few of these in my time, and over the years have developed my own version. Here it is.
You’ll need:
700 grams of boneless lamb shoulder cut into chunks.
3 tablespoons of vegetable oil.
1 small bulb of garlic, pureed.
1 tin of tomatoes, drained of juice and pureed.
2 teaspoons of whole cumin seeds.
2 teaspoons of ground coriander seeds.
1/4 of a teaspoon of turmeric.
1 teaspoon ground black pepper.
1 teaspoon of sea salt or 1/2 a teaspoon of table salt.
1/2 teaspoon of chilli power.
2 bay leaves.
1 tin of chickpeas, drained.
2 tablespoons of finely chopped coriander leaf.
First, roast your cumin seeds in a hot, dry pan until they smell like spicy toast. Shake into a pestle and mortar, grind and set aside.
Fry the garlic paste in hot vegetable oil for two minutes and then add the lamb pieces. Stir-fry over high heat until the lamb is brown.
Now drop in the ground coriander, turmeric, pepper, salt, chilli and bay leaves and mix. Keep mixing and frying for two minutes, then add the drained, pureed tomatoes, the chickpeas, and a pint of water.
Simmer on a low heat until the lamb is tender, which could be up to an hour. If within that time it looks like it might catch on the pan, add more water. Once the lamb is soft keep simmering until you have quite a dry sauce – one that just coats the lamb and chickpeas.
Take the wok off the heat, stir in the roasted cumin power, sprinkle with the chopped coriander leaves and serve with a stack of warmed shop-bought chapattis. Or if you prefer – a pile of judges’ wigs.
by Lee on January 19, 2009
I love word facts nearly as much as I love food and I was very happy to see them deftly combined by Radio’s John Humphrys recently. He described tautology, the fashionable and pointless act of saying the same thing over again in different words, (safe haven, temper tantrum, past history) as:
The equivalent of having chips with rice
Brilliant!
Reminds me of my dad. He thinks a bowl of pasta is incomplete unless accompanied by chips and bread. The holy carb-umvirate.
He’s currently bordering on clinical obesity right now at this moment.
by Lee on January 18, 2009
This is Forkface. A blog about nice things you can eat. Massive hello to you.
This is my first post. I have no idea what to say. Maybe I’ll say “nipple”. Maybe not. How exciting: the unknown.
I know, I’ll start off with a recipe.
Chorizo noodles with lettuce and egg
I’m a big fan of busting open a sausage and frying the insides to a crunchy gravel. I’m also a big fan of stir fried lettuce. Trust me; it’s good. Put the two together, add some noodles and a few other bobs and you’ve got yourself a hearty and intensely savoury dinner.
To make this you’ll need:
2 fresh chorizo sausages, skins removed.
Half a large carrot, cut into thin strips.
Half an onion, sliced.
6 leaves of cos lettuce, snapped up.
1 egg, beaten with a pinch of black pepper and a few dashes of sesame oil.
150 grams of cooked and cooled egg noodles.
2 tablespoons light soy mixed with 1 teaspoon of dark soy and a pinch of sugar.
1 teaspoon sesame oil and a handful roasted peanuts to serve.
Add the skinned chorizo to a smoking hot wok with a splash of vegetable oil to stop it sticking. Stir-fry on a high heat until it starts to crisp up, three minutes or so. Add the onion and keep everything moving.
When the onion is soft and the sausage looks nice and crunchy add the carrot and lettuce and mix. Now push the contents of the wok up to one side and add the beaten egg into the space you’ve made. Let it sit for ten seconds. Then scramble it. Once the egg is cooked mix it with everything else. If your carrot and lettuce char a bit while they’re waiting on the side of the wok, all the better.
Throw in the cooked noodles along with the soy sauce mixture. Keep stirring and frying until everything is evenly combined. Now turn off the heat and smatter your noodles with the sesame oil and peanuts.
Give one last stir and apply enthusiastically to the lower face.