Ben's Built-in Braai - Chapter 1

This little project is from one of those bizarre connections that can only be put down to fate. A good friend who is also the local vicar (and well aware of my fire and food obsession) had put me in touch with a South African guy who was wanting to create a traditional South African outdoor kitchen, in the middle of Witney in West Oxfordshire and only a few streets from where I live. For the first time, my passion for cooking outdoors met completely with my professional life as an architect.

Most architects would see a project like this as either too small or uneconomic to take on. Not me, I embraced it as a necessary part of continuing professional development.

I'm fascinated by the way that South African's bring South Africa with them wherever they go. Ben cooks outdoors all year round and has been relying solely on his trusty Weber. His requirements were very specific as one would expect.

Local planning laws require permission to build anything in your garden that is made of masonry and connected to the house, so I was commissioned to prepare documents to support the planning application and to help get it built.

This built-in braai is to be made from reconstituted cotswold stone bricks, rendered concrete blocks, cast concrete for the work tops, and timber trellis for the screen. We have started the process of looking for tradesmen to do the work, so, hopefully, it should be fully operational some time this summer. I'm planning to document the construction process in subsequent chapters so watch this space.

Garden Spit Roast - Chapter 3

LAMB ON A SPIT

I am a fair way from ascending to my next fantasy of the Giant Goat Kebab, but a gorgeous Saturday invited me to put two boned shoulders of lamb on the rotisserie to feed an eager group of local friends for a dinner party.

The Giant Goat Kebab thing so far only exists as a bunch of sketches in my note book. I'm still hunting for readily available kid to experiment with before I inflict it upon my unsuspecting guests and friends.

Lamb on a spit however is less risky and has reminiscences of my fairly recent Janjetina experiences in Croatia. I procured two shoulders of lamb from my local supermarket and spent a disproportionate amount of time filleting them with a super sharp Opinel carbon steel knife before wrapping them together around my spit with some good kitchen string.

The filleted shoulders were first rubbed with salt, garlic and rosemary before being rolled up in the hope that the pure long-cook flavour from the whole-animal spit roast would be achieved. Two and a half hours over a medium charcoal fire did the trick. I wrapped the lamb in some foil before slicing off 25mm thick portions for my guests. The bones from the filleting exercise were pan fried before adding to the stock pot with celery, onion (skin on) and carrot. I also reduce a bottle of Spanish red wine to mix with the stock and a little flour to make a rich sauce to serve with the thick slices of slow cooked lamb.

Summer approaches and ideas for extreme fire food experiences continue to emerge.

The Fire Shop

GULISTAN KEBAB HOUSE, NEW RD, WHITCHAPEL, LONDON E1*

1968-2000 (approx.)

From a recent visit to my old stomping ground in the east end of London emerged deeply fond memories of my favourite local haunt for simple, fresh, quality food. I re-walked the streets a couple of years ago and was devastated to find that the Gulistan Kebab House, New Road, Whitechapel was no more. Hoping to find its reincarnation at a different address I made local enquiries, none of which led to good news.

A humble shop front a few doors from the corner of Whitechapel Road, I affectionately named it the Fire Shop. Flickering flames from the grill behind steamed up glass acted as a beacon on dark London winter days and nights. There is a wide footpath in front of the London Hospital and as I walked it towards my east end flat from Whitechapel station (or from the London Hospital Tavern) the Fire Shop flickered away in the distance, luring me to treat myself to one of my treasured little snacks. I had to walk past the door, so I really had no choice.

For one pound fifty, two friendly men would work in perfect unison, one rolling and baking the naan bread in the tandoor oven, the other grilling two spicy lamb kebabs over the charcoal grill. Imagine the smell. The spicy minced lamb kebabs were pressed over fairly thick square steel bars, so the resulting kebab ended out hollow in the middle and not too thick on the outside. This also made them quite quick to cook. Two kebabs were then removed from the skewers and rolled in the naan with a little yogurt and fresh coriander leaves. Amazing smell, spiciness, freshness, and just the right amount for a moreish snack. Sometimes I’d be back for seconds within just a few minutes.

I haven’t been able to find any photos, reviews or advertisements to immortalise the memory of the Fire Shop. I’ve had to rely on my own memory and in doing so I made these two sketches, one showing where it was, and one more detailed sketch describing the layout. You couldn’t get more basic than this, a tiny shop with room for maybe 6 people to eat at stools and a small table, and another room upstairs. I remember dark plywood panels on the walls that must have been there since it opened in the sixties.

(1 Charcoal grill - 2 Tandoor - 3 Woks - 4 Large curry pots - 5 Fridge - 6 Chair for the naan man - 7 Bar and stools - 8 Table and bench - 9 Stairs to dining room - 10 Front door - 11 Shop front window - 12 Sneeze guard - 13 Door to back room - 14 Bread prep - 15 Kebab prep)

A range of other curry dishes were also on offer. Four or five large aluminium pots sat on the counter containing chicken, lamb and vegetable curries. These would be ladled into hot woks and finished with a bit of fresh chilli, yoghurt and coriander leaves before serving with hot naan bread.

I moved from the east end in 1993 to another part of London, and made frequent visits back to the Fire Shop for a taste of a treat I haven’t been able to find anywhere else since. On one visit I was greeted by my friendly one time neighbours and noticed a new addition to the fit-out: A glass sneeze guard between the customers and the large pots of curry. A health inspector had obviously made his or her mark. Before the days of the glass screen I know of at least one one pound coin that settled to the bottom of one of those deep pots. The knowing smile and gentle ‘not to worry’ head gesture I received from the naan man told me that it wasn’t the first time! The depletion of the contents of each curry pot must have resulted in a trove of loose change.

I am hoping this article will be the beginnings of a shrine for this wonderful east end institution. I know there are others out there who will share my passion and I really hope that this leads to the creation of a new archive to truly immortalise the Gullistan Kebab House. Please, if you know of anything, or anyone that has connections with the Fire Shop, do the right thing and send it my way.

Firefoodie.

*Gulistan is a town of about 75,000 people in the Balochistan region of Pakistan, about 8km from the Afghan border. Elevation: 1,480m

Croatian Lamb on a Spit

This month has seen few opportunities for any decent fire food experiences at home. Fortunately I spent a week on business in Croatia and was thrilled to find that the ultimate all year round local favourite is roasted lamb on a spit know as janjetina. Mostly seen at roadside restaurants, the wood burning ovens and spits on display are too enticing to be missed.

Slightly salty, meltingly tender and served simply with fresh bread and a leaf salad dressed with vinegar and olive oil, this one is up there with my all time favourites.

My mission this year is to do one in the garden for an as yet unspecified special occasion.

Having no decent photos of my own, I did some web research and came across a Croatian foodie's blogsite where there is a wealth of information about janjetina. This is where the photo came from. Maninas: Food Matters is a must see. The posting on janjetina is entertaining and informative. My compliments to the writer/photographer.

Things To Do With Firefoodie's Christmas Chilli

Since handing out dozens of jars of Christmas Chilli recently, I've been getting all sorts of comments and ideas on what can be done with it. At our house, it's on the table with almost every meal. Our favourites (and some from our friends) for this special condiment are:

- Bangers and mash

- Penne alla arrabiata

- Fishermans' pie

- Chinese stir fry

- Chilli con carne

- Curries

- Pizza

- Brodo

- Anything Mexican

Now, as an ingredient, it's another thing. Our 16 year old son Charlie expects it in his sandwiches every day, and I love it in cheese toasties. Use it in the classic comfort dish Aglio, Olio e Peperoncino for example and you can't go wrong.

Anything with cheese or potato seems to be an overriding theme. It has a distinctive taste and aroma, far more than just a chilli kick!

We're down to our last jar and it's only January. I can see another order being placed for a box of chillies at the local market before too long.

Leftover Christmas Turkey Lasagne

I reckon that in our family, turkey lasagne is more awaited than the Christmas turkey itself. It's a great way to use the stock from the bones plus the leg and thigh meat left over from your Christmas feast.

This dish is best prepared a day ahead, leaving the final baking for the day of serving. It can also be frozen before baking. This batch was big enough to make one large and one medium lasagne. The smaller one went in the freezer.

Preparation time: 3 hours

Baking time: 45 mins

Serves: 10-12

INGREDIENTS:

For the ragu:

- 1kg cooked turkey meat, roughly chopped

- 8-10 cloves of garlic, crushed

- 2-3 tablespoons olive oil

- 1 glass of white wine

- 1/2 of a 200g tube of tomato puree

- 3 x 680g jars of tomato passata

- 2 teaspoons of salt

For the turkey stock:

- 2 onions halved (skin on)

- 3 medium carrots, halved

- 1 small celery stick

- 2-3 tablespoons of olive oil

- Turkey carcase, broken up

- 2 teaspoons salt

- Enough water to cover

For the white sauce:

- 2 tablespoons of plain flour

- 50g butter

- 400ml of turkey stock

- Salt and pepper to taste

For the final assembly and topping:

- 500g lasagne sheets

- 250g grated mozzarella cheese

METHOD:

First remove the meat from the carcass and roughly chop it. Then start off the stock by sauteing the onions, carrots and celery for a few minutes in a large stock pot (mine is 9 litres), add the turkey carcass, cover with water and bring to the boil. Simmer gently with the lid partly on for 2-3 hours.

Once the stock has been started, begin making the ragu in another large saucepan (6 litres minimum). Add the crushed garlic, olive oil and tomato puree to the pot on a medium heat. Cook for a few minutes, stirring constantly so as not to burn the garlic, then add the white wine and cook gently for a few minutes until the base starts to thicken slightly. At this point, the smell is amazing.

Then add the 3 bottles of passata, bring to the boil and simmer very gently for 2 - 2 1/2 hours, stirring occasionally. The turkey meat is already cooked so it goes into the ragu after the sauce is cooked and only for a further 20 minutes or so.

For the white sauce, melt the butter in a small sauce pan, add the flour and mix thoroughly before adding the stock. Cook gently whisking constantly until it reaches a thick but pourable consistency.

For the final assembly in a large shallow pan, poach the lasagne sheets 2 -3 at a time in turkey stock for just a couple of minutes to soften them slightly.

(After all this plus making a turkey pie filling (see photo below), I was left with almost a litre of stock which went in the freezer for another day.)

Get two lasagne dishes and start with a layer of pasta at the bottom. Then a layer of ragu, another layer of pasta, another of ragu and so on until finishing with a layer of pasta topped with a thin coating of the white sauce before the final sprinkling of grated mozzarella.

The lasagne can now either be baked straight away at 180 deg for 45 mins, or stored in the fridge for a couple of days before baking. Alternatively it can be frozen and enjoyed after the turkey mania has subsided a bit.

42 Ghanaian Chillies in a Jar

FIREFOODIE'S CHRISTMAS CHILLI - BATCH #2

This is the result of batch #2 following my previous Firefoodie's Christmas Chilli article posted earlier this month. I relented and purchased a tray of 60 very cute 3 oz jars with gold lids to overcome my label removal angst. I asked the green grocer at the market in Witney to get hold of a box of chillies for my second round of little gifts for me to collect the following week.

I collected the box early in the morning (see the gap above the fennel) and psyched myself up for another intense evening. This time, my son Charlie helped with the tailing of the chillies, and we managed the whole batch in just over an hour. 16 x 200g batches in the food processor to be precise. We worked out that we tailed just short of 1600 of the treasures by hand.

Once the garlic was added and the chilli was cooked down with the olive oil, vinegar (about 300ml of each), salt (2 tbsp) and a bit of water (Charlie had retired by now), I filled 38 jars with Batch #2 of my addictive relish. They were then simmered in a large baking tray and topped with extra virgin olive oil before sealing, cooling and labelling.

If you are amongst the privileged few in possession of one of these little jars, it's great with cheddar cheese and cracker biscuits. Add a nice cold beer, and you have found another room in firefoodie heaven.

Remember to add a bit of olive oil to the jar each time you use some, enough to cover the chilli. It will keep it fresh for ages and you will get more out of the jar. Enjoy.