From scratch?

During a conversation over lunch last week (re-heated risotto from the previous night) a colleague of mine asked me "Do you cook from scratch every night then?" to which I replied "Of course." There were many raised eyebrows in the staff room at my assertion, some seemingly in disbelief, some in envy and some looking at me as if I was some kind of domestic hero. Of course none of those reactions get anywhere near the truth, and yes, the Beautiful Wife and I have been known to indulge ourselves with a takeaway, though, in truth this probably only happens about once every 10 weeks or so.

Eggs Benedict, breakfast of half term heroes!

This conversation happened to coincide with my re-reading of the Ginger Pig Farmhouse Cook Book (By Tim Wilson and Fran Warde, published by Mitchell Beazley). For me, cook books tend to fall in to three categories. First is the "Recipe Book", a book full of recipes that can be put together in an ordinary kitchen, by almost anyone. Any of the books by Delia Smith will provide a superb example of this type of book. Then come the books which fall into the food Food Inspiration category, if you want the perfect example of this then there is none better than White Heat by Marco Pierre White, a little outdated now but still a masterpiece of its type. Finally there is the category of cook book which manages to both inspire and provide great recipes. These books are the jewels in any cook's collection. Both of the Ginger Pigs books fall into this category. As I flicked through the Farmhouse Cook Book I stumbled upon a recipe for a Pancetta that required no preserving salt, no salt peter, no nitrates and no nitrites at all. Those of you who have read this blog before will no that I have a dangerous obsession with everything Pork so it simply had to be tried!

Bacon from scratch

So, getting back to my original subject, what is "Cooking from scratch"? I suspect for most people cooking from scratch means buying ingredients and putting them together to form a meal for their loved ones. For a rare few, The Hugh Fearnley-Wittingstall approach of raising one's own animals is the real cooking from scratch. For me, its somewhere in between. The more food I cook from very basic ingredients the happier, and probably healthier, I am. However, Corner Cottage's garden is barely big enough to sustain three rose bushes let alone livestock so I'll have to make do with butchers meat for now!

Sliced ready for the perfect "Sarnie"

And so to my adventures with Italian bacon. I bought a large piece of pork belly (from the "thick end") and took the bones of, tidying it up to make a nice flat slab of meat. I crushed some pink pepper corns and a few coriander seeds (the recipe suggests juniper berries too, but I had none so coriander was used instead) The spices were then added to quite a lot of sea salt. The meat was rubbed all over with the salt mix and then placed in a tray, covered with a piece of baking parchment and popped in the fridge. I drained it daily and turned it once during its 5 day salting. I then wiped all the salt off and wrapped it in muslin, popping it back in the fridge on a cooling rack to allow the air to circulate a bit. 3 days later I sliced and then fried my first ever, from scratch bacon. It was lovely in flavour though did go grey in the frying pan (no nasty preservatives). I have since used it for breakfasts, (see eggs Benedict pic) and in a very lovely Carbonara sauce. I cannot recommend making your own bacon strongly enough.

Lamb course

Last Monday I attended a course of Lamb butchery at the Ginger Pig. For those of you who don't know of the Ginger Pig it is the most amazing butchers in the UK. What started as a bit of a hobby for Tim Wilson became a business and now sets the standard in terms of animal welfare and husbandry. They not only provide beautiful meat but taking it from field to plate ensures that they control the process.
The course was great fun with Perry and Borat guiding us through the anatomy, butchery and cooking of lamb. We each boned and rolled a shoulder to take home. The evening finished with a feast of lamb shoulder with mashed potatoes, followed by bread and butter pudding laced with chocolate. It was a great evening and my second of these courses - I've already started saving for the Beef course, or maybe I'll do the sausage making evening.
The message from successful ethical meat businesses such Ginger Pig is clear: Eat less meat, eat better meat and expect to pay a fair price for it.

Slow, slow, quick quick, slow

I was unwell in January and had previously been given, as a present, a butchery course at Ginger Pig in Marylebone. I went, despite not feeling great, and was so very glad that I did. The evening was a pork butchery course in 4 or so hours. We had the opportunity, as a group to dis-assemble a half pig and then we each boned and tied our own Spare Rib Joint for taking home and roasting.
Predictably the pork was of the highest quality and the instruction from two Master Butchers. The evening finished with us tucking into a cooked joint of pork served with dauphinoise potatoes (followed by bread and butter pudding). We all went home with a huge lump of pig and a little more knowledge - it really was a super evening.
The way we prepared the meat was to take the skin off and score it cover the meat in sliced garlic and ground fennel seeds. The joint was then rolled with the skin back on and tied (using special butchers knots - I could tell you how but then I'd have to kill you) ready for roasting.FYI the piece of meat I brought home was 2.8 kilos and kept us in food for almost a week.
Yesterday I did a similar thing with a little piece of belly pork and it was wonderful. The Beautiful Wife summed it up when she said "It just makes the pork seem more porky". So here's the slow roast recipe.

Ginger Pig Pork

A piece of belly pork (no bones, skin taken off and reserved)
Ground fennel seeds
Finely sliced garlic
Salt and pepper

Cover one side of the pork with fennel and garlic, season well and poll with the flavourings on the inside. Place more of the fennel and garlic on the underside of the skin and wrap it round the roll of pork. Tie the joint and roast until the juices run clear (this will take slightly longer than you would think). Allow to rest before serving either as a Sunday roast or with dauphinoise potatoes.

This evening we had the closest I get to fast food. We had pasta pesto. The pasta was Benedetto Cavalieri from the very tip of the heal of Italy. I often buy this at Umberto's in Thame for people who insist that all dried pastas are the same. It really shows that pasta is not just a bland starch but has a flavour of its own and can have a texture which is quite delicious. The sauce was Umberto's fresh Pesto. Once you start eating real fresh pesto you will be spoiled forever - you will walk past the jars in the supermarket with a slightly snooty air about you.