Tuesday, 9 December 2014

Mars Bar Eggnog

The first time I tried eggnog, I hated it. I was about 8 years old over at some friend's house and I remember being presented with this cup of lukewarm, fluorescent yellow, eggy muck and being fed some BS about it being an American tradition that I would just love. I think I lasted two sips.
But times have changed. I don't know if it's because of my tastebuds developing or simply down to the number of times I've watched National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation over the course of the past 20 years (anyone want to buy me one of these?) but adult me is certainly a fan of the stuff.
Plus, what 8-year-old me never got to experience was chucking a whole load of booze into the mix and whiling away an afternoon writing Christmas cards and wrapping presents, half cut and giggling to myself - a tradition I can really get on board with. So, when I saw that Solita, one of my favourite places to eat in Manchester, had posted this recipe for a booze-and-sugar-loaded version of the stuff, I knew I had to give it a try. So here's their recipe - with a few of my own personal touches. *Spoiler alert* - I added more alcohol. (Update - thanks as well to @Cereal_Vagabond, who created the recipe!!!)
Start off with a countertop covered with all of the best and least healthy things you can find. Eggs, sugar, cream, butter, chocolate. You're basically making a cake, which you're then going to drink. Fabulous. Get your Christmas tunes on full-blast at this point.
Cut two Mars Bars into smaller pieces and stick in a glass bowl along with 50g unsalted butter. (I defy you to find a recipe anywhere that starts with that first step and doesn't turn out to be AWESOME). Gently melt the lot over a bains-marie, stirring constantly.
Pour in 250ml double cream and whisk together, don't worry about a few little chunks of nougat here and there. Normally I'd be against chewy drinks, but in this case it's not necessarily a bad thing. It all goes down the same way and all that. Set this mixture aside and allow it cool.
In a separate bowl, whisk together 6 eggs until they're all frothy. Stir in about 130g of brown sugar and 130ml of your favourite chocolatey milkshake. Full disclosure: I stink at cracking eggs.
Into your egg mix add about 1/2 teaspoon quality vanilla extract and a healthy grating of nutmeg. Normally I'm not big on nutmeg, but around Christmastime it just seems to go with most things. Coincidentally I read once that nutmeg is a mad hallucinogenic. Apparently eating them whole can send you on one of those lose-yourself-in-the-forest-for-days types of trips. Obviously I would never condone such behaviour but equally so, anyone who can verify this information - please get in touch!
Now for the fun part. The original recipe called for dark rum and brandy whilst I opted for white rum and bourbon, with a dash of Bailey's thrown in for good measure. At this point any whiskey/rum/brandy combo can't be wrong. I went with about 100ml of bourbon, 50ml rum and a solid 'glug' of Baileys, but I'll let you be the boss of how boozy you want to go.
Mix your liquids together and give it a good whisk. Add a fresh grating of nutmeg, cover with film and set in the fridge to cool for a bit. Pour yourself a whiskey whilst you wait - your job is done. Once chilled, ladle into glasses and serve. Merry effing Christmas.

6 eggs
130g brown sugar
1/2 tsp vanilla extract
grated nutmeg
130ml chocolate milkshake
100ml bourbon
50ml rum
25ml Baileys
2 Mars Bars
50g unsalted butter
250ml double cream

Wednesday, 12 November 2014

The Vietnamese way

Hey there, remember me? I'm the guy who used to post all of the food. Remember, the really healthy stuff like Battered Mars Bars and Homemade Pork Scratchings? Well, I've been away for a while, doing really important stuff like going on a honeymoon, watching my friends get married, moving my life from one end of the country to the other...real grown-up stuff, you get me? And it's not that I haven't had time for you all, it's just that, you know...I'm easily distracted.

So let's try to rebuild that old friendship, and I'm going to try the only way I know how - by posting photos of food. And lots of it. Starting with a whole load from our honeymoon in Vietnam this past summer. Incredible country full of beautiful people, jaw-dropping landscapes, and - most importantly - stunningly good food everywhere you looked. Here's a selection of some of the food we encountered on our travels - hope to see you around here again sometime soon.

Sunday, 29 June 2014

Pears Poached in Red Wine & Rosemary

They say when life gives you lemons you should make lemonade. Well, I say when life gives you pears you should poach them in an entire MF'ing bottle of Merlot and then eat the hell out of the whole lot. Maybe not as catchy, but certainly much more enjoyable than some cold drink. Also, making lemonade can be tricky - you've got to find your squeezer, remove the pips, add the right amount of sugar and water...who has time for all that nonsense? Luckily, my recipe for poached pears is quick, easy, and a damned sight more impressive than some glass'o'juice. Trust me on this.
We all know it's easier to spend other peoples' money, and it's also a whole lot easier to cook with other peoples' wine, particularly when you're using an entire bottle of it. So on that note, thank you once again to the fantastic people at Frontera Wines UK - your generosity and eagerness to ply me with free booze is appreciated. (And would *ahem* always continue to be appreciated...)
The first thing you want to do is get your poaching liquid on the go. There's a bit of this and a bit of that in here, and feel free to tweak yours to your own fancy, but this one worked reeeeeaaal good for me. A cinnamon stick and half a dozen black peppercorns will add spice and a bit of heat, and an apple tea bag is a great way to infuse more flavour into your wine.
Right into a deep saucepan you go, along with about 150g granulated sugar and a good squeeze or two of honey, sweetie. Add a couple slivers of lemon zest, then *gulp* dump the contents of a quality bottle of wine in there too. The rich fruitiness of the Concha Y Toro Merlot from Frontera Wines UK is a fine fit here - it's dark, it's delicious and it's going to pound my pears (umm) with bags of berry flavour. Stick on a high heat until the liquid comes to a boil, then reduce to a simmer.
Once your poaching liquid is simmering nicely and all of your sugar has dissolved, throw in a few sprigs of rosemary - stems and all. I absolutely love rosemary, and though it might seem a bit weird to use them in a dessert, a few sprigs just add a beautiful earthiness that cuts through the sweetness of the wine and the pears.
Peel your pears, but keep the stems on. Not only does it look nicer, but once they've been poached it makes handling them a lot easier as well, ya get me? Carefully lower them into the poaching liquid, then increase the heat slightly so that it's low-medium and let your pears go for about 25 minutes. You want them to be as submerged as possible, so keep an eye on them and turn if necessary. You know they're finished when a cocktail stick or sharp knife easily slides all the way through the flesh.
When the pears have finished poaching, remove them from the liquid and set aside to cool slightly. Then pass your liquid through a sieve to remove all of your stalks, stems and seeds, stick it back on the hob and turn the heat all the way up. Let the liquid boil until it has reduced by about half and is a delicious thick fruit syrup. And that's all you gotta do. Serve the pears warm or cold, with a hefty scoop of creme fraiche and plenty of that ridiculously tasty sauce reduction. Quick, easy, and absurdly tasty. When life gives you lemons, send them back and go out and buy some pears.

4 medium pears, anjou or any normal dessert pear works great
1 bottle quality red wine
1 cinnamon stick
12 black peppercorns
1 apple tea bag
150g granulated sugar
2 tbsp honey
lemon zest
3 sprigs rosemary

Sunday, 15 June 2014

Tarragon & White Wine Sauce

So every now and then on this blog I feel an obligation to post something that's not chocolate-covered, triple-fried, and smothered in cheese. Not for the sake of my health, believe me - if that were the case I would have given up way before the bacon bomb meatloaf. No, it's because - despite what my blog might suggest - classical cooking styles and techniques have always been incredibly important to me. Everyone who taught me to cook, be it my parents or the chefs I was lucky enough to work under (be sworn at/have knives thrown at me by), did so with traditional methods and dishes. Because of this I've always respected and have tried to draw inspiration from these recipes, even if that does sometimes mean wrapping them in bacon and deep-frying the life out of them.
I was recently surprised with a wicked-awesome gift from a friend at Frontera Wines (click here to check out their site - it's pretty damn sweet). A couple of bottle of wines on the proviso that I use them in some of my recipes...not a bad trade if you ask me!
Still trying to make my mind up what to do with the merlot - I've got a few ideas, though I'm open to suggestions! - but as it was Sunday and I had a hankering for roast chicken, I figured a classic white wine sauce would go down a treat. Plus, that would leave a few glasses left in the bottle for me and the wife to enjoy - and enjoy them she certainly did. (Every drunk wife joke I make on here probably edges me closer and closer to divorce...I'll learn one day, hopefully before it's too late.)
So this is super quick and easy (I know better than to make another joke about my wife here). Finely dice a white onion, add to a pan with a small knob of butter and fry over a medium heat until soft. 
When the onion is soft and translucent, add a whole chicken stock cube along with about 150ml of white wine - this is where the fantastic Frontera Pinot Grigio comes in. I'm not a big white wine drinker myself, but this was truly excellent, so much so that I had to pour myself a small glass to keep me company whilst I made my sauce. Produced by the highly-acclaimed Concha Y Toro, this wine was fruity and refreshing, with such a gentle crispness that I quite easily (and quite happily) could have seen off a bottle (or two) of the stuff with very little difficulty. Like a glass of Pimms or a G+T, this is a drink that demands to be taken outside and enjoyed on a picnic blanket in the sun.
Allow the wine to simmer for 10 minutes, then pour in 300ml double cream, a clove of minced garlic and a handful of chopped tarragon. Not normally one of my favourite herbs - sambuca aside, I try to avoid aniseed at all costs - against the richness of the cream and the wine, the aromatic tarragon works brilliantly in this sauce. Season with a pinch of salt and plenty of black pepper.
Give it a good stir, and you're ready to serve. I poured this over roast chicken, but this is a versatile sauce that will go great with most fish dishes, or even over pork chops. You could even use any leftovers on roast vegetables, or to make the most incredible potato gratin. Enjoy! I know I did.

1 onion, diced
1 clove garlic, minced
150ml good quality white wine, like Frontera Pinot Grigio
300ml double cream
handful chopped tarragon
salt & pepper