Beef Cheeks

Flushed with my recent Pork Cheek success (see what I did there?) I've wasted no time in indulging in some more cheeky goodness…

*Brief pause for a misguided ponder on whether I should illustrate this post with a picture of the cheeky girls. Coming to my senses and recoiling in horror at this image, I decide, thankfully, for all concerned – that it’s a terrible idea*

Cheeky, Cheeky!

Errr, yes – so Cheeks… My next attempt would be of the Ox variety. Waitrose is currently championing ‘forgotten cuts’ and amazingly for a supermarket chain, they don’t appear to be cashing-in on it. Three shiny pound coins bought me two surprisingly hefty Ox cheeks, weighing them in my hand; I slinked away from the counter feeling like I’d just purchased the meat bargain of the century.

Little did I realise what trouble they would cause me, as I squirreled them away in the freezer for some future cheek action.

*Fast-forward two weeks*

Bounding from my pit in an irritatingly good mood and declaring that today of all days would be “cheek day” – I retrieved the meaty parcel from the freezer to defrost. At this point, I had no idea how I’d cook them…. I hadn’t even considered it. I knew that Ox cheek is a cut that needs a long slow cook, and I was thinking a few hours…. as far as I was concerned, I had loads of time….

Later that morning, with the cheeks half defrosted, I finally got around to checking a few recipes and was alarmed to find that nearly all, without exception require the cheeks to be marinated overnight to soften them up and even then they still need some serious cooking.

Dinner at 10pm was looking like a real possibility, until at my wits end I came across a recipe in Gordon Ramsay’s Great British Pub Food. ‘Beef cheeks braised in stout with dumplings’.
The cheeks are cut into chunks and braised in a combination of stout and stock for three and a half hours. I decided this was eminently doable. But, what? Beef or Veal stock needed, having none to hand and deciding that in order to do my cheeks justice only the real deal would do. I decided to make my own stock. Running down to the butchers, and purchasing some veal bones I got the stock on. It took bloody hours, but there’s something very satisfying about making a product so useful from inedible bones and a bit of veg.

So, Six hours later and my Veal stock done, I was ready to begin cooking the Ox cheeks for three and half hours. At this point I was starting to think this better be one of the best things I’ve ever made, because its taken nearly a whole day to prepare.

Here’s the recipe:-

Beef cheeks braised in stout with dumplings

Serves 4

You’ll need:-

2 Beef Cheeks, about 500g each
2 TBSP plain flour
Sea salt and black Pepper
2-3 TBSP Olive Oil
1 Large Carrot peeled and chopped
1 Celery Stick, trimmed and chopped
1 Leek, trimmed and chopped
2 Bay Leaves
Few thyme sprigs
1 TBSP tomato puree
1 TBSP brown sugar
300 ML Guinness or other stout
400 ML Quality Beef or Veal stock

Dumplings
125g self-raising flour
125g suet
½ TSP salt
Small handful of mixed herbs, such as parsley, chives and chervil, chopped.
1 heaped TSP creamed horseradish
4-5 TBSP Water

Trim off any excess fat from the cheeks and cut into bite-sized pieces.
Mix the flour with a little salt and pepper and use to lightly coat the beef pieces. Heat a thin layer of olive oil in a heavy-based flameproof casserole. Brown the beef in batches for 4-6 mins, turning to colour evenly, then remove to a plate.

Drizzle a little more oil into the pan and add the vegetables, along with the bay leaves and thyme. Stir in the tomato puree and sugar.
Cook, stirring frequently, over a high heat for 6-8 mins until the vegetables begin to soften and colour.

Pour in the stout and let bubble for 5-10 mins until reduced by about half. Return the meat to the pan. Add the stock to cover the meat and vegetables. Season well, bring to the boil and put the lid on.
Simmer gently for 3-3 ½ hours until the beef is just tender, stirring every once in a while. Taste and adjust the seasoning.


Meanwhile, to make the dumplings, put the flour, suet, salt and a good pinch of pepper into a large bowl. Mix well, then stir in the chopped herbs. Make a well in the centre and add the creamed horseradish and 4 TBSP of water. Mix to a firm dough that comes away from the sides of the bowl cleanly. If it is a bit dry, add a little more water. Turn the dough out onto a clean board and sprinkle over some flour. Roll the dough out into a sausage shape, then divide into 8 balls.


Carefully drop the dumplings into the stew, spacing them apart to allow for them to double in size during cooking. Replace the lid and cook for a further 20-30 mins until the dumplings have puffed up and are light and fluffy. Serve with seasonal vegetables.

So, after Ten hours of faffing about making veal stock and then slow cooking the ox cheeks in stout…. was it any good?


Although I ended up eating dinner at 9pm, It was bloody gorgeous. Stupendously good. In fact, one of the best things I’ve ever cooked. The meat was melt in the mouth tender, falling to pieces at merest touch of the fork. It tasted incredible. The surrounding stout stew was dark, rich and tasty, and the herb and horseradish dumplings were a revelation. So light, and so distinctly flavoured, they were the perfect accompaniment to the Ox cheeks. I’ll definitely be making these again to use in other stews.

So, my verdict on ox cheeks, if you’ve never tried them then you’re missing out. £3 for two cheeks to cook a dinner for four is making out like a bandit! Seriously good value for money, and seriously tasty. So, if you see them - snap them up!

Buen Ayre - London

If I were asked what would be my choice for my last meal on Earth (errr…. as I recently was by Qype – see here). My answer would be, a really good medium rare steak, charred on the outside, beautifully soft and bloody on the inside, with perfectly crisp, salty frites on the side and a ridiculous amount of thick, tarragon heavy Béarnaise sauce for dipping. It’s without a doubt my favourite meal. Although to be honest, I don’t get to eat it that often. Good steak is expensive and knowing my own voracious capability for consuming copious amounts of the distinctly unhealthy yet, totally essential béarnaise sauce. I try and limit myself to eating it as a treat every now and again.

Luckily for me, Sunday lunch was treat time, and you can imagine my excitement as I wound my way from Bethnal Green tube to Broadway Market in Hackney and the rather fabulous Argentinean ‘Parilla’, Buen Ayre. Specialising in grilled steak and meat, rampant carnivores would do well to make the pilgrimage to eat here.

The rather unassuming frontage belies what lies behind, and my eyes were instantly drawn to the fantastic, rather rustic looking charcoal grill behind the counter where a chef was nonchalantly cooking beautiful huge steaks

Ordering some Argentinean Quilmes beer (I’d never tried the brand before, it was pretty good), and some red wine, as a group (Seven us were eating, 6 meat eaters and 1 poor misguided veggie), we tried to work our way through the menu, deciding what exactly to order.

Older Buen Ayre hands among us insisted that, the ‘Parrillada Deluxe’ was the way to go. Consisting of a Brazier placed on the table loaded with 14oz of Argentine Sirloin steak, 11oz of Argentine Rib Eye, 2 ‘Argentine style pork sausages’, black pudding and provolone cheese. This selection was for a minimum of 2 people and priced at £23 each. We ordered two of these for six people to share with a selection of salads and chips on the side.

In the meantime, whilst our food was cooked on the incredible looking grill two metres from our table, some bread and Stilton butter was placed on the table. The bread was ok, nothing special - but in conjunction with the Sirloin butter it was bloody delicious, and I couldn’t get enough of it, inspired.

Two smoking braziers were deposited on the table, heaped with some impressively large pieces of steak – (the piece of Rib eye in particular was gargantuan), the sausages, the black pudding and a slowly melting slab of provolone cheese.
Sides of chips with garlic and parsley quickly followed, along with pots of chimicurri dipping sauce (recipe here).

The table fell upon the braziers like a hoard of vultures; steak and sausages were cut into slices for sharing. (As specified, the steaks were cooked exactly medium rare), and plates around the table were soon heaped with food. The Argentinean steaks are bloody delicious, really very good, superbly cooked, the crisp charred exteriors giving way to moist bloody goodness when sliced into.

The chips…well…not too fat, not too thin – perfectly crisp on the outside and fluffy and soft in the middle…they were seriously good. I’ve since found out that they’re bought in – which is surprising, considering how good they were, and leaves me wondering... what the hell do I know?

Anyone who doubted that the two Parillada Deluxe, shared amongst the 6 meat eaters at the table might not be enough to assuage appetites would be happy to note that even the most ardent carnivores were beginning to slacken the pace…in fact, even I was struggling and I’m a greedy bastard of some considerable renown. To underline this fact, once the plates were cleared the whole table declined dessert, and opted for the bill, which considering the quality and quantity of the food we’d just consumed was incredibly inexpensive.

If you like steaks, I can’t recommend Buen Ayre enough. Avoid the footballers wives style bling and naffness of Gaucho Grill. Buen Ayre is where you should be headed for Argentinean steaks.


Buen Ayre
50 Broadway Market
Hackney
London
E8 4QJ

Telephone: 020 7275 9900

http://www.buenayre.co.uk/

Interview for Qype does London.

I was recently interviewed for Qype does London.

So, if it pleases you, go read the interview.....study the photo in detail - ponder what caused me to pull that expression (Hint - I'm off my face from drinking Martinis), and read my answers to such questions as...

Which restaurant would I pick for my last meal on Earth, and what would I order?

What would be my perfect Sunday in London ?

And, find out which place in Essex I'd recommend you visit.

Because basically, I'm obviously tres important and it's essential that you know these things about me, otherwise your life can never be totally complete....... hahaha

The interview is HERE

Salted Butter Caramel Ice Cream

Everyone owns a kitchen gadget they rarely use, tucked away in the back of a cupboard somewhere, gathering dust. For me, it’s my ice-cream maker… since I bought it a good few years ago; I think I’ve made ice cream maybe five times. So there it sits, unloved and unused. Part of the problem being, is that it’s a cheap one (Ice cream makers fall into two camps – cheap or expensive, there is no middle ground)…I think it cost me about £30 at the time, and you have to pre-freeze the bowl for at least 24hrs before using it, which doesn’t lend itself well to spontaneous ice-cream action.

About a year ago, realising that this was the stumbling block to the creative process – I moved the bowl out of the cupboard to a permanent home in the freezer…yes it took up a lot of space, but if I wanted to make ice-cream it was there ready and waiting to take up the challenge instantly…and then there, inevitably it’s sat for about a year, waiting. …Silently in the dark.

Until just the other day a conversation on Twitter about ice cream makers had me opening the freezer and dragging my unused ice-cream maker towards the light. I’d boldly declared publicly that yes, I shall make ice cream, immediately and not only that, I was going to make salted butter caramel flavour. I’d found a recipe online (Here) I was all set, raring to go,

‘Immediately’ in reality, became the next day…up at the crack of dawn I made my way down the local shop to buy the ingredients needed. It cost me about £5. The thought did cross my furrowed brow that, I could have bought some decent ice cream for the same price and saved myself the effort. But where’s the fun in that? And in any case, mine would be ‘handmade artisan ice cream’ in a flavour that is almost impossible to buy commercially. It would have no nasty chemicals or additives in it. It was worth the cost.

The recipe states that the ice-cream needs 8 hours refrigeration, so I thought I better get started early if I wanted to actually sample some the same day.

First of all, I made the salted praline…heating the sugar carefully in a saucepan, (Caramel, despite looking extremely benign and inviting… just begging for you to stick a digit it for a cheeky sample is actually frigging hotter than the surface of the Sun, and as such; it deserves respect).
It was all going so well, and then I noticed a foreign object in the saucepan…something white…. Had I washed the pan up properly from its last use? And then I realised what it was.
The ‘heatproof’ rubber spatula I was using, to stir the caramel was anything but…. and it had started to melt. Realising immediately that salted rubber butter caramel flavour was perhaps a bit too avant-garde for even the most adventurous gourmet, I decided to bin the lot. I was flustered, it was boiling hot…. I decided to tip the molten caramel onto some greaseproof paper first, and in the process burnt my finger…just a little bit, but enough to make me scream like a girl.

Five minutes later, wiping the tears away from my face, and scornfully washing up the saucepan, I was ready for another attempt.


This time it went exactly to plan, and I soon had a sheet of hardened Praline to break up and scatter into the finished ice cream.
Everything else with the recipe went smoothly, without incident and in no time I had beautiful mocha coloured custard to refrigerate for 8 hours, ready for churning.

Later that day, out it came and in it went to the ice-cream machine, which was already on and churning away (learning my lesson here from a previous abortive attempt long ago, where I’d poured the mixture into a machine that wasn’t running – and it had instantly frozen rock solid, making it un-churnable).

30 mins later, it looked about right – I stirred in the broken shards of praline (which according to the recipe, melt and become ‘gooey’….errr….yum!). And, back in the freezer it went for 3 hours to set fully.

What a time-consuming operation making ice cream is!
But, I guess the question is, was it worth it?


This afternoon, I opened the container and scooped up a beautiful looking shiny ball of creamy coffee coloured ice cream, speckled through with melted, soft specks of praline. I stuck my spoon in for a taste, and oh my God…. it was incredible, rich smooth and intense caramel flavour underpinned by a subtle lip smacking salt tang. Seriously beautiful stuff. Definitely not something you could eat much of in one sitting, it being very rich – but wow. So yes. It’s very much worth the time and effort involved.

If you fancy having a go at this yourself, you can find the recipe I used here on David Lebovitz’s website.

Pork Cheeks

Right now, cheeks are currently the things to cook. (Facial – not arse, I should point out.) Ox and Pork are the usual meaty suspects. It’s a really neglected cut, pretty much unknown to most consumers and therefore seriously cheap to buy. With the added benefit, that it’s packed full of flavour, just needing a slow cook on a low heat to get the most out of it.

Wasting no time in jumping on the cheek bandwagon, a good few weeks back, in a veritable cheek frenzy I purchased a pack of Pork cheeks from my local butcher. He had to disappear out back to get them, (Proving that it’s always worth asking for the cut you want it you don’t spy it at the counter). They were frozen, and I was amazed at how weighty a pack of meat I got for around £3. Bargain or, so I thought.

The Pork cheeks sat neglected in my freezer for some time. The whole de-frosting then long cooking time always put me off making the effort…. Until on a day, seemingly just like any other, inexplicably, I awoke wanting…. No, ‘needing’ cheeks. Out of the freezer they came and I made my preparations.

How to cook them? I own hundreds of recipe books, shelves of the buggers…but can I find a single recipe featuring Pork Cheeks? No.
So… casting my mind back I remembered that Graphic Foodie had written a very nice recipe on her blog featuring the aforementioned cheeks. This would be my guide.

Assembling the ingredients, I turned my attention to the now defrosted meat – and this is when I realised something was different about my cheeks. Every other food blogger was talking about buying packs of a few cheeks, six or so from (mainly) Waitrose, and the finished articles looked almost like beef medallions. I now realised that I had purchased only two meaty medallions…. And they were essentially un-butchered; still with whole slabs of the Pigs cheek skin attached, complete with bristly hairs. Also, the half inch thick, pink skin looked scarily human, which was a tad off-putting.
Grimacing, but now determined to get my cheeks – I sharpened my best Global knife, and went to work, cutting away in a fairly amateurish and carefree fashion I soon had two nice, neat looking lumps of meat sitting on the worktop – sans fat, skin and hair.

I followed Graphic Foodies recipe to the letter, except that rather than oven bake the accompanying apple, I pan fried apple rings in butter to caramelise them, and served with crushed new potatoes with wild garlic and mustard.

Here’s the Recipe: -

Pork cheeks in Cider. Caramelised Apple, & crushed Wild Garlic and Mustard New Potatoes

Serves 2

You’ll need:-

For the Pork Cheeks:-

2-3 Large Pork Cheeks, trimmed of fat
1 small onion, finely sliced
1tbs olive oil
Knob of butter
400ml dry cider (I used Aspall)
3 Sage leaves
Seasoning

For the Crushed Wild Garlic and Mustard New Potatoes.

500g New Potatoes
Hand full of Wild Garlic – chopped
Tablespoon of wholegrain or Dijon mustard
Drizzle of Extra Virgin Olive Oil
Seasoning.

1 Apple cored, and sliced into two rings.

Preheat the oven to 160C.

Sautée the sliced small onion in olive oil and butter until softened. Add the pigs' cheeks and brown. Add the cider, season and bring to the boil.

Transfer into an ovenproof dish and place in the preheated oven for 70 minutes, turning and basting with the cider regularly. Add 3 sage leaves and return to the oven for a further 20 minutes.

At this point, whilst the cheeks are finishing off, cook the new potatoes in salted boiling water, also for 20mins.

Remove the pig cheeks from the oven to rest for 10 minutes

Drain and crush the new potatoes – stirring through the Olive Oil, the chopped Wild Garlic and the Mustard. Taste and season.

Meanwhile, over a high heat reduce the cider sauce.

Pan fry the apple rings with a knob of butter until golden.


Seriously, bloody delicious. The cheeks were superbly rich, meaty and so tender. I arranged the dish in a rather pretentious looking tower, with the apple ring and cheeks on top – it actually looked (I think) superb, and tasted incredible. I’m rarely truly happy about what I cook, but this time I was really pleased, in fact – I’d have been happy to be served up the same dish in a restaurant.

Flushed with my Pork cheek success, I am now the proud owner of some Ox cheeks, and will be cooking them up very soon.
Watch this space.

Thanks again to Graphic Foodie for allowing me to use, (and slightly bastardise), her excellent recipe.

What should politicians do to improve our food?

Earlier this week, along with fellow food bloggers Helen, Lizzie and Tom, I was asked to take part in a discussion recorded for the Observer.

The Venue – A pub in Kensal Green
The Host – Jay Rayner
The subject - What should politicians do to improve our food?

God help us.

Anyway, for what its worth here I am. Before you view, I’d like to point out that I talked intelligently and at length about sustainable produce, common European agriculture policy, the Maastricht treaty and its effect on food, the plight of our fisheries, global geopolitical issues and a memorable episode where I regaled everyone with an ancient poem on food which I’d painstakingly translated from it’s original Sanskrit.

Unfortunately, the whole conversation was condensed to 5 mins and all I got in to the finished piece was something about Jamie Oliver and a tax on pizzas and coke.

I’d also like to point out, yes I am from Essex – but to my keen ear I fondly imagined that I sound like a bastard cross between James Mason and Prince Charles. Imagine my shock upon hearing myself speak in the imbedded video, and the subsequent accompanying trauma as I realised that…errr…. basically… I don’t, coming off more like Ray Winstone.
A career in radio is not on the cards I'm afraid.

*Sigh*

Getting back to the original subject, loyal readers – what do you think?
What should politicians do to improve our food?



Here's a link to the original Word of Mouth page.

Wild Garlic and Potato soup

About this time last year, fellow Essex food blogger, and all round good guy Food Urchin was kind enough to supply me with some wild garlic from the abundant supply he has growing in his garden.

Unfortunately, I never got the chance to actually use it in any cooking. It was the end of the wild garlic season, the plant was small – the few leaves soon shrivelled, and died…the whole thing looked decidedly unhealthy. Unsure at the time whether my gardening ‘touch of death’ was at work, once again, or whether this was just the natural order of things…. I planted what was left, crossed my fingers and tried to forget about it.

Fast forward nearly a year, and spring has sprung, dormant plant life in my garden has burst into bud, blossom beautifully framed by cloudless blue skies is apparent everywhere, birds sing, fox’s play, baby lambs bleat… you get the picture, and best of all – what’s this? My ‘dead’ Wild Garlic has seemingly overnight, grown into a fine looking shrub with an abundance of pungent, beautiful, lush, verdant leaves draped seductively against each other.

With not a moment to lose, and determined to get as much use out of it as possible, I’ve been snipping bits off here and there…. Wild Garlic Mayonnaise as a dip for last weeks Scotch Eggs, Wild Garlic stirred through scrambled eggs for a breakfast, but still I feel like I’m not getting enough out of it, so yesterday I decided to go for broke – strip all of the decent size leaves, and make some Wild Garlic Soup.

A quick search threw up a Tom Norrington-Davies (recipe HERE), which appealed to me (I really have a thing about potatoes in soup – no idea why, but I love them, might be a childhood thing – oxtail soup with boiled potatoes conjuring up fond memories). In no time at all, I had a large heap of wild garlic leaves sitting on the kitchen worktop, and the other ingredients were assembled, ready to go.

Luckily, I had some beautiful homemade stock in the freezer – (seriously, when you next have roast chicken DO make stock from the leftover carcass, it may seem like a pain in the arse at the time (it’s not) – but you’ll be well rewarded for your efforts later). The kitchen was soon awash with the fresh pungent aroma of wild garlic and the gorgeous comforting smell of hot chicken stock.


I served the soup steaming hot with crusty bread from the local bakers, (just for that extra carb overload) and it was delicious. The wild garlic’s very distinctive but subtle taste was complimented nicely by the onions, and the roughly pulped potato and bread added a nice thick rustic texture – the addition of some crumbled dry chilli giving a nice little kick. Lovely stuff, and very simple to make.

I have to add; there is something incredibly exciting about cooking with produce grown in your own garden, especially so with an ingredient like Wild Garlic – which has quite a short season, and is, as its name suggests, a wild plant. It grows all over the place in woodland apparently, but whenever I’ve looked for it – I can never bloody find any. If you can lay your hands on the stuff, either through foraging (with better luck than mine), or perhaps getting some to plant in your garden then do, it’s very rewarding to cook with.