Salmon Glazed in Whiskey and Soy with Buckwheat Soba Noodles

It was inevitable that when the World Wide Web was invented by Tim Berners-Lee and the first bite of information was sent on Christmas day 1990; that before long the internet would become home to millions of web sites that went far beyond the confines of necessity and functionality, into the realms of the ludicrous, surreal, and downright bizarre – ‘Get Ahead of the Games’ is one such web site. For months now we have been warned off entering the city to avoid the promised apocalyptic grid lock of confused locals swimming against a tide of wild eyed foreigners; ‘Olympic Lanes’ were to provide safe passage for terrified athletes barricaded behind bullet proof glass, as the contaminated public ran around feasting upon each other in the barren zombified wasteland of the middle and outside lanes.

I went to the Olympics on Monday, and I left plenty of time to catch my train and tube in anticipation of a rather uncomfortable game of sardines to make it to Westminster Pier and our boat to Greenwich. As it turns out, the campaign to warn off us Brits from the city unless it’s absolutely imperative to enter, at our peril, has been by far the governments most successful to date. There were barely any people on the train from Ealing (queen of the suburbs and home to my girlfriend), the tube was bordering comfortable, we didn’t have to jostle through a group of Spanish students at the exit of Embankment, and there was an alarming lack of tourists from the Orient along the South Bank. As you can imagine experiencing England without the cueing was most disconcerting.

Fortunately Karma was restored with a lengthy line as we entered the equestrian park through the Royal Maritime Museum, and there were a great deal of people inside enjoying a brief spell of sunlight in an otherwise dreary July. The cross country went well, or at least the two jumps I could see from my seat in the main stand didn’t challenge anyone particularly; the presence of Wills, Harry, Kate and a handful of lesser Royals rendered my little sister into her usual gushing mess, the beer was expensive, the food more so, but it was a fantastic day out and I feel like I did my bit to egg on Team GB to the silver medal they were awarded today on the podium in Greenwich.

I think it’s hard not feel a little patriotic when thrust into the breach of such a spectacle, however cynical you may have been about it before hand, and there was a lot of that going around. There are those who think the money should have been put to better use, re-building our flailing economy for example; there were certainly parts of the opening ceremony that I thought could have been omitted, It was a little peculiar that the NHS, already understaffed, were able to spare several hundred active nurses to dance around some children whilst their patients back at Holby were forced to call the Police for a glass of water. Although on the whole, I thought it was highly entertaining.

We need entertaining at the moment; it gets the endorphins going inside of us and heightens the serotonin in our bodies. It does exactly what exercise does for the athletes, stimulates our body and invigorates the mind. So if you think about there has never been a better time to have a party as right now – don’t mope around resigning to the national negativity and cynicism that’s been seeping into us; call up Bassline Productions and hire a massive sound system, play Chariots of Fire, run around in slow motion and award yourselves a medal. www.basslineproductions.co.uk



Ingredients: (Serves 4)

For the salmon marinade -
4 salmon filets
150ml whiskey
3 tablespoons light soy sauce
2 tablespoons dark soy sauce
Freshly ground black pepper
1 red chilli, finely chopped

For the noodles -
3 bunches of soba noodles
4 florets of brocolli, roughly chopped
1 romano pepper, finely chopped
8 baby corns, halved lengthways
2cm fresh root ginger, crushed
1 clove garlic, crushed

For the cooking sauce -
5 tablespoons whiskey
4 tablespoons dark soy
1 tablespoon mirin
1 tablespoon rice vinegar
1 tablespoon toasted sesame oil
1 red chilli, finely chopped
3 tablespoons runny honey
2 tablespoons hot water
6 spring onions, white ends finely chopped, save green ends for cooking
1 clove garlic, crushed
1cm fresh ginger, crushed
Small handful of fresh coriander, roughly chopped

Chives, finely chopped

Vegetable oil for frying

Plain flour for dusting



Method:

1. Mix the ingredients for the salmon marinade together and submerge the salmon in it for a minimum of 2 hours.

2. In a bowl thoroughly mix all the ingredients for the cooking sauce together and set aside.

3. Boils the Soba noodles for between 5 and 7 minutes, strain and set aside. In a wok heat some oil and fry up the brocolli, baby corn, pepper, ginger and garlic and stir fry for a few minutes till half cooked. Take off the heat and keep warm.

4. When the salmon has marinaded take it out, pat it in the flour, and chuck it - skin side down - into a frying pan. Cook the filets for a few minutes then pour in the cooking sauce, it will sizzle quickly and the honey will caramelise and bubble. Turn the filets over and cook for 2 minutes, before flipping them back skin side down. Make sure to toss them in the reduced sauce, the whiskey will be burning off and the sauce will reduce by over 3/4.

5. Whilst the salmon is cooking add the noodles to the wok and toss the vegetables through it, add a little soy and some sesame oil if needs be to add extra flavour.

6. Plate up the noodles with the salmon on top, chuck some chives and coriander around and about. Serve up.

Haddock Wrapped in Smoked Streaky Bacon on a Bubble and Swede Rosti with Sugar Glazed Carrots, Sweet Stem Broccoli and a Bearnaise Sauce

Tastes vary from person to person in every aspect of our lives; whilst some things are universally enjoyed, like Calippos on a hot day, Adele (somewhat guiltily), and puppies - the Vietnamese are especially partial to a Pho Spaniel, so I’ve been told – there are other tastes that have to be acquired. A perfect example is Unilever’s Marmite, a product that has divided public opinion since its introduction to the shores of Britannia in 1902.

In fashion tastes become styles; some people for instance find it acceptable to wear spectacles that have regular glass in, serving no evident purpose other than to perhaps make them look more intelligent, oxymoronically bearing an inner stupidity which they’d been masking with eight inches of denim, a faux gold neck chain with potential to moor the Titanic, and some inhumanely tight trousers sat atop a pair of shoes so long they could be used to ski in. Don’t get me wrong I’m all for a bit of fancy dress, I’m not adverse to donning the glads and giving the tiles a lick of rouge every other weekend, I just think there are more important things to be worrying about than which pair of budgey smugglers you’re going to aimlessly walk up the Kingsland Road in . . . perhaps I’m just not edgy enough, or maybe my budgey is actually a macaw.

In music there are those who create the flavours and those who try them out, the pop charts are full to the brim with catchy songs that when stripped down are all essentially the same, but it’s because of this very reason that they appeal to the masses; like puppies and Calippos. The underground dance scenes are spear headed by a small collective of pioneers, some of them in non-prescription specs I might add, who through the medium of ‘trend’ and a healthy following of sexy scene-sters continue to carve out genre niches in the ever expanding list of sub-categorised Electronica – the recent influx of ‘Deep House’ being a prime example. Some people genuinely love the music, and although they may not have a grasp of the intrinsic musical qualities that form its make up, they enjoy it because it’s well made, and they have good taste. Others don’t, and they listen to Gabba.

I am a firm believer in not knocking something till you’ve tried it, within reason of course; I wouldn’t urge you to start shooting up, and both kidnap and murder are also ill advised. However, if you haven’t had a mushroom before I would suggest giving it a whirl; cherry tomatoes roasted in soy sauce and sugar are also rather splendid; and if for some reason it’s never occurred to you to slip a filet of haddock between some smoked streaky bacon, glaze a few carrots, toss some sweet stem broccoli in butter, lay it all out on a bubble and swede rosti before adding a dollop of béarnaise sauce; I would whole heartedly recommend you to do so. 

Ingredients (Serves 4):

2 large haddock filets

2 packs of smoked streaky bacon

For the Rosti:

1 large swede, peeled and chopped

1 large potato, peeled and chopped

1 egg

¼ white cabbage, finely shredded

70g mature cheddar, grated

50g salted butter

For the Béarnaise:

2 tablespoons of white wine vinegar

2 tablespoons of water

1 shallot, finely chopped

1 tablespoon of tarragon leaves, chopped

2 egg yolks

150g salted butter, melted

12 small carrots

1 pack of sweet stem broccoli

1 tablespoon granulated sugar

Salt and Pepper

Method:

1. Make the Béarnaise sauce first as you will probably balls it up first time around like I did, it takes some real elbow grease as doing it with a blender as almost every recipe will suggest just didn’t work. In a small saucepan boil the white wine vinegar, water, shallot and chopped tarragon – make sure you save a couple of tspns of freshly chopped tarragon for later on. Once it has reduced by half its size strain the liquid through a sieve into a jug and discard the soggy shallots / tarragon mixture.

2. Beat the two egg yolks together and mix in the strained tarragon / vinegar reduction until it’s light and frothy. Pour the mixture into a pyrex bowl and in turn heat this bowl over a smaller saucepan filled with an inch or two of water, a rudimentary Bain-marie. Make sure the heat is on medium low and constantly whisk the mixture, whilst adding the melted butter very, very slowly. This is the difficult bit and it will seem like nothing is happening for a good few minutes, however persevere. The yolks of the egg will catch the butter and suddenly the mixture will thicken and change, creating a lovely mayonnaise like sauce that reeks of wonderful tarragon. Finally take the sauce of the heat, stir in the remaining chopped tarragon, season, transfer to a new container and cover with tin foil. This can be reheated when the rest of the meal is ready.

3. Boil a saucepan of water and cook the potatoes and swede, strain and mash using the 50g of butter and the egg.

4. Whilst the potatoes and swede are boiling lay a sheet of tin foil on a baking tray and drizzle with a little oil; wrap the haddock in the bacon and place on the foil, season, then cook in the oven at 200°C for 10 minutes.

5. Whilst the fish is cooking fry up the cabbage in some olive oil and add to the mashed potato and swede, along with the grated cheddar.

6. Boil up the carrots and broccoli, when cooked toss the carrots in sugar over a medium heat, and chuck a small knob of butter in with the broccoli.

7. Make the swede, cabbage, potato and cheese mix into patties around 5” across and 2cm deep, fry for a couple of minutes on each side before plating up. Put the rosti on first, followed by the fish, chuck on some carrots and broccoli and a healthy dollop of Béarnaise and you’re ready to go.   

Parsnip Kadhi

Whether you know it or not almost every single one of you has been to a Buddhist restaurant at some point in your life, in fact I imagine most of you eat from Siddhartha’s kitchen at least once a month, and potentially on a Sunday like my family does, somewhat religiously.

 Almost exactly a year ago today my girlfriend and I were standing underneath the very same Bodhi tree that Prince Siddharta Gautama plonked himself under and became enlightened many, many moons ago. At the time food wasn’t the first thing on my mind, it wasn’t the last either, it never is; however when I was learning about the struggles and epiphanies of this Jesus of the eastern world, it wasn’t his influence upon my weekly Sabbath staple that came to mind.

The realm of Buddhist food encompasses more than half of humanity. From its birth in India, the gospel spread to Sri Lanka with Mahendra and Sangmitra, the children of Emperor Ashoka. In the centuries that followed as the new faith spread to South East Asia, so did the concepts and ideas behind the Buddhist kitchen. Through Burma, Thailand and Cambodia, intrepid monks and scholars conveyed the message of The Enlightened One to China via Tibet, to the vast expanses of Mongolia, and as far as Korea and Japan in the east.

In one of his sermons Buddha compares the human body to the string of a musical instrument – if it is stretched too tightly imposing on it a hard aesthetic discipline of self-denial, it may break. On the other hand if it is allowed to hang loose, following the path of least resistance, it cannot create any music. An individual aspiring to achieve nirvana – blissful liberation – cannot afford to forget this.

The essence of Buddha’s teachings is encapsulated in majjhima patipada – ‘The Middle Path’. If desire, the root of all distress and misery is to be conquered, we must lead perfectly balanced lives, avoiding all excess and ensuring that nothing disturbs the tranquillity of our mind. The body, according to the Buddhists, must be properly nourished and kept free from painful diseases that can only distract the mind from sadhana – practice. So basically if you go out and nail a meat feast pizza, make sure you chase it with a Caesar salad, and hold the dressing. 

I have to say that with the above in mind I wouldn’t make a very good Buddhist, which isn’t to say I’m not partial to a veggy stir fry from time to time, however I do draw the line at the waste of stomach space that is Tofu, and the idea of boycotting beans and denying my frequent cravings for pate and McCain smiley faces (although never together), I find utterly depressing. So the interpretation I have made of the Buddhist legacy is not to eat on ‘The Middle Path’ as recommended, but rather veer violently off it in either direction with the hope of establishing some sort of inner karma somewhere in my lower intestine. Which on a Monday morning after the Sunday spice, is a far cry from reality.

The Buddhist mantra doesn’t only apply to food but rather to all aspects of your life, so whilst you fill your belly with goodness you should fill your head with happiness and your heart with love. With that in belly, mind and chest, I decided to adapt a classic Indian ‘peace recipe’ made with lotus stems, and make it with parsnips instead, because they’re my favourite vegetable and make me happy; and whilst I eat it I’d like to introduce you to the newest member of my family and latest entrant to my heart – the coolest dude that you ever did see, so sweet he’d have Hitler swooning. The awesome: BOOM.

Ingredients: (Serves 4)

For the Dumplings:

3 large parsnips, peeled and chopped

2 carrots, peeled and chopped

1 small red pepper, finely chopped

1 tablespoon of corn flour

2 tspns garlic, crushed

1 tspn ginger, finely chopped

Vegetable oil for deep frying

Salt and Pepper

For the Sauce:

15g salted butter

1 tspn cumin seeds

1 tspn garlic, crushed

1 tspn tumeric powder

1 tspn medium chilli powder

2 cups yoghurt, beaten

60ml double cream

Fresh coriander for garnishing

Method:

1. Boil the parsnips and carrots in water for 10 – 12 minutes or until soft enough to mash, remove from the heat, strain and mash with a little butter, season to taste.

2. Heat enough oil in a sauce pan to submerge a ping pong ball sized dumpling over a medium high heat.

3. Sautée the red pepper, ginger and garlic over a medium heat for a couple of minutes until softened. Pour into the mashed parsnip / carrot mix and stir through. Add a tablespoon of corn flour to the mix and stir thoroughly. Season again if necessary. Set aside.

4. Roll the mash mix into dumplings and carefully lower into the oil, deep fry until golden and drain on kitchen roll.

5. Whilst the balls are frying heat the butter in frying pan over a medium heat; add the cumin seeds and brown, then add the garlic and sautée for a couple of minutes before adding the tumeric and chilli powder, mix well. Add the yoghurt immediately and lower the heat, cook until the yoghurt smell disappears and the sauce thickens. Remove from the heat and stir in the double cream.