Tag: dish

Egg and potato pie

We have got a mouse.

I say that like this is a new thing. We’ve actually had a mouse for ages. And when I say mouse, I dearly hope I do mean mouse, singular, not mice, plural. It’s hard to tell, mice look similar. And if there are two mice living in this house, it’s highly likely they are related and therefore even more indistinguishable.

The reason I mention it only now is that up until a fortnight ago, only other people had ever seen this mouse and I, of course, dismissed the sightings as fanciful imaginings of hysterical people.

“Okay,” I would say, “if there’s a mouse, where’s the mouse poo?” But then one evening when my husband was watching football, I was sitting right here at the kitchen table, writing, and out from under the oven came a small, sleek mouse with a twitchy nose, beady eyes and very large ears.

It was indescribably cute.

Then it saw me and disappeared like lightning, leaving, in terror, a trail of poo behind it.

I didn’t say anything to my husband, because my husband thinks we should get Rentokil in and I do not want this. I do not want to set glue traps or lay down some sort of ghastly poison that causes the mice to die slowly from internal bleeding. Neither do I want to get a cat. I like cats, but there are too many cats already on our street already and they kill all the birds. I have never been ok with death. I don’t like it and I don’t want it around me. I certainly don’t want to be party to it.

I have purchased, online from somehere that calls itself “Tooled-Up” a humane mousetrap but when I catch and release this mouse on to Hampstead Heath I fully expect another one to replace it.

Anyway, aren’t mice inevitable? These old London houses with their mouse-sized gaps everywhere and rubbish aplenty – surely every building, except hermetically-sealed new builds, has got a mouse somewhere. Rather than issue a mouse holocaust, we should all just try to get along.

(Incidentally, my sister in law told me that she heard on the radio that there is an influx of mice at the moment because it has been so rainy – the mice flee the flooding sewers and take shelter under, for example, ovens in North London. She has the same attitude to mice as me: live and let live.)

Anyway I know why we have got a mouse. It’s because of Kitty. Or rather, it’s because of me. It’s because I allow her to roam freely round the ground floor carrying a variety of brittle foodstuffs, which rain little mouse-snack-sized crumbs hither and thither, which, later on, the mouse posts into its gob with both hands. I have seen it with my own eyes, while sitting on the sofa watching Breaking Bad and eating Green&Blacks.

The only thing to do is vacuum the entire ground floor every night before bed. I do not wish to starve the mouse, you understand – merely think that it might have better luck elsewhere until the sewers dry out and it can return to its natural habitat.

Speaking of natural habitats, mine is carbohydrate-based. I have been dieting like mad recently because I am still so traumatised by being fat while pregnant (yes, after 17 months. That’s how fat I was). But recently, I have fallen off the starvation waggon and have been scoffing like my little mouse friend. It’s partly because I am trying to have another baby and think maybe if I’ve got a bit more meat on my bones it might help.

Incidentally, I know what you’re thinking: you’re thinking – why are you trying to have another baby when all you do is complain on and on about how awful having children is? And my answer is this: Kitty needs a little buddy. If she didn’t need a little buddy I wouldn’t do it. No way. The thought of doing it all again makes me feel quite ill but at least I only have to do it once more. Then I can wash my hands of the whole sorry business and concentrate on dieting until I’m so thin a stiff breeze would blow me over.

But until then, here is a terrific recipe for egg and potato pie that my husband makes when we’re feeling skinny and virtuous enough to risk letting such things pass our lips.

Giles’s egg and potato pie
for 4

3 large floury potatoes
4 eggs
butter – about 100g
salt and pepper

1 Peel and boil the potatoes whole for 15 minutes but stop boiling if they look like they’re falling apart, as floury potatoes are so wont to do. Boil the eggs for 7 minutes, cool and peel.

2 Slice the potatoes and the eggs. This is a reasonably fiddly job – especially with the eggs. If you have a purpose-made egg slicer, this is the time to extract it from the back of that drawer, wipe the grease off and deploy it.

3 Butter the bottom of a baking dish, then cover with a layer of potatoes. Dot with butter and season. Then add a layer of sliced egg. Repeat this until you have used up all your egg and potato.

DO NOT fret if this all looks a bit of a mess, it is an imprecise dish and will taste terrific no matter how it looks.

4 Put in the oven for 45 mins at 180

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Because Oyster Rockefeller Sounds Rich

There’s much debate over how many of America’s greatest
recipes got their name, but that’s not an issue with Oyster Rockefeller. Thanks
to the rich, money-colored butter sauce, this decadent creation’s name pretty
much wrote itself.

Besides the obvious, superficial reasons, associating your
new shellfish appetizer with the most affluent family of the day was a stroke
of social media genius. Hey, just because Twitter wouldn’t be invented for
another 107 years doesn’t mean people didn’t “retweet” things.

When Jules Alciatore invented the dish in 1899, he wasn’t
trying to create a classic, new American shellfish appetizer; he was simply
trying to replace snails in his diet. That’s right, what would become America’s
greatest seafood appetizer (sorry, crab cakes) was just a delicious work-around
for a serious shortage of French snails in New Orleans.

To say the customers of Antoine’s were happy with this local
substitution would be a huge understatement. They went crazy for it. The dish
quickly gained national attention, with the most famous celebrities,
politicians, and foreign dignitaries of the day stumbling over each to get a
plate or three.

The original secret recipe really is a secret; so all
versions, including mine, are just guesses. There is agreement among foodies
who study such matters that spinach was not part of the formula, but the much
spicier and more flavorful watercress was used.

Neither were mushrooms, bacon, ham, cheese, garlic, or any other
later day add-ons. Not that those ingredient aren’t good baked on top of
oysters, but that just wasn’t how Mr. Alciatore rolled. So if you are looking
for a special occasion appetizer that tastes, looks, and makes you feel (and
sound) rich, then I hope you give this oyster Rockefeller recipe a try. Enjoy!

Makes enough for about 3 dozen oysters Rockefeller:
1 stick butter (1/2 cup) room temp
2 tbsp minced green onions, white and light green parts
2 tbsp diced celery
2 tbsp fresh chopped tarragon
2 tbsp fresh chopped Italian parsley
1 cup chopped watercress leaves
salt, pepper, and cayenne to taste
2 tbsp Pernod liquor
1/4 cup bread crumbs
3 dozen oysters on the half shell

Bonus How to Open Oyster Video!

My friend Tamar, from Starving Off the Land, does a much better job of showing how to open oysters, but that’s only because she raises them and gets a lot more practice! That, and she’s better at it. Also, a special thanks to Sky Sabin Productions for their fine work on this.

For some additional shucking info, and tons of oyster recipe links, you can also check out this article on Allrecipes.com. Enjoy!

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Gordon Ramsay’s Sea Bass with Pepper Sauce

This wonderful looking Sea Bass dish was prepared by Gordon Ramsay on his hit show The F Word^[1]. Read through my estimated ingredients quantities and instructions, then feel free to watch the video at the end to get a clearer idea of how to prepare this delightful meal.

Ingredients:

Filet of Sea Bass
Bell Pepper – 1 large red and 1 large yellow, or several of both
Shallots – 3
Star Anise – 3
White Wine Vinegar – 1 1/2 Tbs
Vermouth – 2 Tbs
Olive Oil
Fresh Thyme Sprig leaves
Salt
Fresh Basil – 1 very large sprig, or two smaller ones
Water

Directions for the Sauce:

Julienne the bell pepper, do the same with the shallots. Heat olive oil in a hot pan, then add the peppers and shallots, add star anise and a pinch of salt. Stir well and cook for several minutes until the peppers are beginning to soften up. Add the basil whole, and pour in the white wine vinegar and vermouth. Reduce for several minutes over moderate heat until liquid is mostly absorbed. Add enough water to the pan to cover the peppers half way. Bring to a boil and simmer until liquid is about half gone. Carefully add all of the ingredients to a blender and liquify. Be sure to hold the lid on the blender. Many of my readers discovered when making another Chef Ramsay dish which required a blender that it’s helpful to hold the lid on with a dry towel (no burns, no messes).

Directions for the Fish:

Lay the fish on a cutting board skin side up. Score the fish every half inch along the length of the filet. Add salt and thyme leaves to the inside of each score, then drizzle with olive oil. You can now lovingly hold and caress the filet in your hands if you’re as crazy as Chef Ramsay about food, if not, you can skip the caressing (see the video if you want to know what I mean, that man loves food!).

Heat olive oil in a hot pan and add the fish, skin side down. Hold the fish down with your fingers for 30 seconds to prevent curling. Ninety percent of the cooking will take place with the skin side down. Watch the fish and turn it when most of the meat has turned a bright white. Finish up cooking and remove from heat.

Serving Instructions:

Pour the sauce onto a plate with a large enough lip to hold the sauce – fill the bottom of the plate. Add cooked Sea Bass, skin side up. Drizzle olive into the sauce circling the fish. DONE.

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References

^{^} F Word (www.amazon.com)
^{^} »crosslinked« (gordon-ramsay-recipe.com)