Yotam Ottolenghi’s black miso sticky rice with peanuts and brussels sprouts
Old ingredients in a new light. It’s great to shake up the Christmas sprouts with some Asian assistance. Frying them for just a few minutes means they retain the bite they so often lack when boiled and overcooked, and also helps keep that bright colour. Try to get hold of smaller Asian peanuts for this; failing that, just chop regular ones in half.
Serves 8
Thai black rice 700g
white miso 160g
rice vinegar 90ml
salt
groundnut oil 90ml
ginger 6cm piece, peeled and julienned
red chillies 5, deseeded and julienned
garlic cloves 5, peeled and thinly sliced
small peanuts 120g, skin on (or regular peanuts chopped in half)
sesame seeds 2 tbsp toasted
brussels sprouts 1.2kg, trimmed, cut in half lengthways (or quartered, if big)
sesame oil ½ tsp
mirin 2 tbsp
coriander leaves 20g, roughly chopped
limes 2, halved
Put the rice in a large saucepan with 1.8 litres water, the miso, two-thirds of the vinegar and a teaspoon of salt. Bring to a boil, then turn the heat to medium-low, cover and simmer gently for an hour, until very little liquid is left. Shake the pan every once in a while to stop the rice from sticking to the base. Take the pan off the heat, cover and set aside for 10 minutes, until the rice is cooked but still retains a bit of a bite; by this time, any remaining liquid should have reduced to the consistency of thick jam.
Heat the groundnut oil in a large non-stick frying pan over a medium-high heat, then fry the ginger, chilli and garlic for two minutes, until the garlic goes translucent. Add the peanuts, fry for three minutes more, until everything is golden-brown and crisp, then transfer to a small plate with a slotted spoon (you want to keep the oil in the pan). Mix the sesame seeds and an eighth of a teaspoon of salt into the peanut mix.
Return the pan to a high heat, add the sprouts and half a teaspoon of salt, and fry for six to eight minutes, stirring often, until the sprouts are dark golden-brown and starting to go crisp. Remove from the heat and stir in the sesame oil, mirin and remaining rice vinegar.
To serve, spoon the rice into a large, shallow serving bowl and top with the sprouts. Sprinkle over the coriander and squeeze over the lime juice, top with the crisp chilli and peanuts, and take to the table.
Yotam Ottolenghi is a food writer and owner of Ottolenghi and Nopi
April Bloomfield’s roasted and raw fennel salad with blood orange and bottarga
Any time a vegetable is as tasty raw as it is cooked, it’s fun to explore combining its different sides in one salad. For example, I’m big on the crunch and perfume of raw fennel. But I also love the way roasting fennel gives it a meaty texture as well as a sweeter, more concentrated and more complex taste. When you combine the two preparations – along with fennel seeds, pollen and fronds to add even more layers of flavour – the salad goes from just another nice dish on your table to the meal’s main event.
Serves 4 to 6 as a side
fennel bulbs 4 large, stalks and outermost layer discarded, tender fronds reserved, root end trimmed of brown bits
garlic cloves 2 medium, finely chopped
fennel seeds ½ tsp, coarsely crushed in a mortar
dried pequín chillies 3, crumbled, or pinches of red pepper flakes
extra-virgin olive oil 55ml, plus 2 tbsp
Maldon or another flaky sea salt 1½ tsp
blood oranges 4
lemon juice 1 tbsp
freshly ground black pepper several turns
delicate, peppery rocket a handful
unsalted roasted pistachios 50g, very coarsely crushed
fennel pollen 1 tsp
bottarga di muggine (salted mullet roe) 25g, finely grated
Position a rack in the centre of the oven and preheat to 230C/gas mark 8.
Halve two of the fennel bulbs through the root end, then cut them through the root nub (so each wedge stays intact) into approximately 2½cm thick wedges. Combine the wedges in a mixing bowl with the garlic, fennel seeds, chillies, 55ml of the oil, ½ teaspoon of the salt and 55ml of water, and toss well. Spread the mixture in a heavy enamelled baking dish (large enough to hold the fennel in a single layer with a little room to spare) and cover tightly with foil. Roast the fennel until it is tender (it should meet with almost no resistance when poked with a knife) and golden brown on the bottom, 25 to 30 minutes. Remove the foil and roast just until the golden brown colour gets a shade or so darker, 3 to 5 minutes more. Let the fennel cool to room temperature.
Meanwhile, halve one of the oranges and squeeze 3 tablespoons of juice into a small bowl. Use a sharp knife to cut off just enough of the top and bottom of the remaining oranges to expose a full circle of the flesh on either side. Stand them on a flat end, and cut along the border where the flesh meets the pith, following the curve of the fruit to remove the pith and peel. Repeat the process until all you have left are nice round, naked fruits. If you’ve missed any white pith, trim it off. Slice the fruit crosswise into ½ cm thick rounds. Flick out any seeds.
To the blood orange juice in the bowl, whisk in the lemon juice, the pepper, the remaining 2 tablespoons of oil and 1 teaspoon of salt.
Slice the remaining 2 fennel bulbs crosswise into ½cm thick slices (only remove the core if it’s very tough) and separate the layers with your fingers. Toss the raw fennel, roasted fennel (and any oil and browned bits left in the pan) and dressing in a large mixing bowl. Use your hands to give it all a gentle scrunch – just to help the flavours come together.
Very coarsely chop enough of the reserved fennel fronds to give you a handful. Add the fronds, rocket and pistachios to the bowl and toss again.
Spoon some of the fennel mixture onto a platter, arrange some blood orange slices here and there, then add another layer of fennel and oranges. Sprinkle on the fennel pollen, bottarga and, if you’d like, a healthy pinch of salt. Serve straightaway.
From A Girl and Her Greens by April Bloomfield (Canongate, £25)
Vivek Singh’s masala fried mackerel moilee
This crisp fried masala fish can easily be the centrepiece at pretty much any celebration, but it is often seen at the Christmas table. Mackerel is good for this dish as it handles the spices well, but in Kerala they can use pomfret or pearl spot. Here in the UK, feel free to try this dish with sea bass or sea bream.
Serves 4
whole mackerel 4 x 350g, cleaned
vegetable oil for deep frying
lime juice of 1
For the ginger-garlic paste (makes about 10 tbsp)
fresh ginger 100g, peeled
garlic 100g, peeled
water 175ml
For the marinade
ginger-garlic paste 2 tbsp (see above)
red chilli powder 1 tbsp
ground coriander 2 tsp
black peppercorns 1 tsp, crushed
ground turmeric ¼ tsp
salt 1½ tsp
rice flour 1 tbsp
cornflour 2 tbsp
For the moilee sauce
corn or vegetable oil 3 tbsp
mustard seeds ½ tsp
fresh curry leaves a sprig
white onion 1, sliced
ginger 2½cm piece, peeled and cut into fine strips
green chillies 4, slit lengthways
salt 1 tsp
ground turmeric ½ tsp
coconut milk 500ml
To make the ginger-garlic paste, chop up the ginger and garlic and process them to a paste with the water in a food processor or blender. The paste will keep for one week in the fridge.
Mix together the marinade ingredients. Slash the fish 2 or 3 times on each side and rub in the marinade. Set aside for 20 minutes.
For the sauce, heat the oil in a pan, add the mustard seeds and curry leaves and when they start to crackle, add the onion, ginger, chillies and salt and cook until the onions are soft. Add the turmeric and stir for 1 minute. Pour in the coconut milk and simmer over a low heat until the sauce thickens to the consistency of double cream. Remove from the heat.
To fry the fish, heat the oil in a wok or deep pan large enough for the fish to fit in. Deep-fry the fish in medium-hot oil for 10–15 minutes, turning them over occasionally to cook all sides, until cooked through and crisp on the outside. Remove gently and place on kitchen paper to remove the excess oil.
Squeeze the lime juice over the fish and serve it with the moilee sauce and steamed rice or green salad as accompaniments.
From Indian Festival Feasts by Vivek Singh (Absolute Press, £26)
Trine Hahnemann’s slow-cooked goose with apples and prunes
My great grandmother lived in a small flat and didn’t have a big enough oven for a goose. So, on the morning of 24 December, she would stuff the bird and go to the baker’s shop. His ovens ran at 120C, so he cooked all the geese for the neighbourhood for five or six hours. It gives a fantastic result: soft and juicy.
Serves 5–6
goose 1, about 5-6kg
cider 1 litre
For the stuffing
apples 4, cored and cut into wedges
shallots 2, cut into wedges
thyme leaves from 6 sprigs
whole prunes 200g
salt 1 tbsp
plenty of freshly ground pepper
Remove the fat from the cavity, then dry the goose inside and out with kitchen paper.
Preheat the oven to 120C/gas mark ½. Mix the stuffing ingredients, stuff the goose and sew it shut with a trussing needle and kitchen string. Rub the bird with salt and put it in a roasting tin with half the cider.
Place the goose in the oven and cook for six hours, basting every 30 minutes with the juices. When they evaporate, use more of the cider. Start checking if the goose is done after five hours: a probe thermometer in the thickest part of the thigh should read 80C. Increase the oven temperature to 225C/gas mark 7½ for the last 10 minutes, so the skin crisps up. Leave to rest for 15 minutes, then carve.
From Scandinavian Christmas by Trine Hahnemann (Quadrille, £16.99)
Nigel Slater’s Christmas cake
Lighter than the one my mother made. The fruit is not so much currants, as golden sultanas, dried apricots and dark seedy figs. There are hazelnuts too, toasted, halved, and proper candied peel, pale citron and darker orange. The recipe has been made countless times, not only by me but by readers and friends.
A family cake (this makes a 20cm cake)
butter 250g
light muscovado sugar 125g
dark muscovado sugar 125g
shelled hazelnuts 100g
dried fruits – ready-to-eat prunes, apricots and figs, candied peel, glace cherries 650g in total
eggs 3 large
ground almonds 65g
vine fruits – raisins, sultanas, currants, dried cranberries 350g in total
brandy 3 tbsp, plus extra to feed the cake
orange finely grated zest of 1
lemon finely grated zest of 1
baking powder ½ tsp
plain flour 250g
apricot jam
For the almond paste (to cover a 20-22cm cake generously)
icing sugar 250g
ground almonds 500g
egg 1 large
lemon juice 2–3 tbsp
You will need a deep, 20cm-diameter round cake tin with a removable base, lined with lightly buttered baking parchment.
Lining the tin: Using the base of the cake tin as a template, cut a disc of baking parchment to fit neatly into the base. Now cut a long, wide strip that will fit not only around the inside of the tin, but a good 9cm above it. (For a 20cm cake tin that will be 66cm.) Place it around the inside of the tin.
Making the cake: Set the oven at 160C/gas mark 3. Using a food mixer and a flat paddle beater attachment, beat the butter and sugars until light and fluffy. Don’t forget to push the mixture down the sides of the bowl from time to time with a rubber spatula. Toast the hazelnuts in a dry pan until light brown, then cut each one in half.
While the butter and sugars are beating to a cappuccino-coloured fluff, cut the dried fruits into small pieces, removing the hard stalks from the figs. Break the eggs into a small bowl, beat lightly with a fork, then add a little at a time to the butter mixture, beating continuously. (If it curdles, add a little flour.)
Slowly mix in the ground almonds, toasted hazelnuts and all the dried and vine fruits, the brandy and citrus zest and juice. Now mix the baking powder and flour together and fold them lightly into the mix. Scrape the mixture into the prepared tin, smooth the top gently, and put it into the oven.
Leave the cake for about an hour. Then, without opening the door, turn the heat down to 150C/gas mark 2 and continue cooking for an additional one and a half hours.
Check whether the cake is done by inserting a skewer, or a knitting needle, into the centre. It should come out with just a few crumbs attached to it, no trace of raw cake mixture. Take the cake out of the oven and leave to cool before removing it from the tin.
Feeding the cake: If you make the cake early enough, or at least a month before you need it, you get the opportunity to “feed it” with alcohol. Most people use brandy, though I have known those who prefer rum. The trick is to pierce the base of the cake several times with a skewer, then spoon brandy into the holes. I have never found a skewer wide enough so tend to prefer a thin, ie Japanese, chopstick.
Once the cake is completely cool, remove the paper from the base and pierce all over with a skewer or knitting needle. Spoon over enough brandy to moisten the cake but not to make it soggy – I suggest three or four tablespoons at a time. Don’t use your best cognac. Wrap the cake in greaseproof paper and tin foil and store in a cake tin. Feed the cake every few days with the same amount of brandy.
Making the paste: I make my own almond paste in a deep, wide mixing bowl, my biggest in fact. This is because no matter how careful I am, the icing sugar, when sifted, tends to fly everywhere. I do sift the sugar too.
Sift the icing sugar into a bowl and stir in the ground almonds. Break the egg into a small bowl and beat lightly for just long enough to mix the white and yolk. I find the mixing easiest using a food processor with a flat paddle. Add to the almonds and sugar, then introduce enough lemon juice, little by little, to bring the mixture to a stiff, smooth paste firm enough to roll. Bring together into a ball, then turn out on to a wooden board dusted lightly with icing sugar. Roll into a fat cylinder or cake and wrap in kitchen parchment or cling film.
I rather like the pure, spartan effect of a cake covered only with marzipan. If you use golden icing sugar your paste will have a soft, honey-coloured hue, like that of antique linen. Even the most hardened minimalist will agree such a cake needs something in the way of decoration. Marzipan stars of differing sizes pressed on to the smooth almond paste can look suitably festive, especially if their edges are blowtorched here and there.
It may be wise to buy your almond paste ready-made, the results being both easier to roll and available in a variety of colours, some of which are actually appropriate. (No one wants a blue Christmas cake.) The trick when making your own is to get the proportions of almond, egg and sugar in perfect harmony, otherwise it will be either too sticky to roll or too crumbly to lift on to the cake.
Mary Berry says you need 675g of paste to cover the top and sides of the cake. My love of marzipan requires a slightly more generous layer. It takes 300g of almond paste to ice the top of a 20cm round cake. Less if you want a thin layer. The sides take a further 500g. Only you know how much you like almond paste.
You will need jam too, not much, less than half a jar of apricot.
Covering the sides: I find it easier to put the almond paste in place on the sides of the cake using two shorter lengths of paste rather than doing battle with one ridiculously long one. Those more dextrous than I will probably do it in one go. I use a light dusting of icing sugar to stop it sticking to the work surface.
Measure the circumference of the cake with a piece of cotton or string. Roll a strip of almond paste the same length as the string, and the same width as the height of the cake. (For a 20cm cake this will be about 66cm long and 9cm high.) Brush the sides of the cake with apricot jam, then lift the cake on to its edge and first roll then press the strips into place, trimming as necessary.
Join the strips by pressing lightly with your thumbs, bearing in mind that the sides will be covered with icing.
Covering the top: Roll out the remaining almond paste with a rolling pin on a work surface lightly dusted with icing sugar. Using the base of the cake tin as a template, cut a disc of paste that fits the top of the cake. Brush the surface of the cake with apricot or gooseberry jam (you need a tart fruit to contrast with the sweet icing), then lower the almond paste into place. Smooth flat with the palm of your hand or, using very light pressure, with a rolling pin.
Leave the paste to dry overnight in a cool place before lowering carefully into a biscuit tin and covering with a lid. Should you not have a spare cake tin, you can wrap the cake loosely in baking parchment, then in foil. It is rather important that the cake is stored somewhere cool and dry, otherwise the covering will turn sticky. Four days is about the right time to allow the covering to dry out. If you ice it too soon the marzipan will show through.
From The Christmas Chronicles by Nigel Slater (Fourth Estate, £26)
