Monday, 16 December 2013
Little Jars of Chilli
It's that time of the year again. Batches 8 and 9 emerged from the kitchen in October and a few lucky people will find some in their post before Christmas. If you are one of them, this is for you. So, how to get the most out of your chilli:
1. Storage
Unopened (yeah right) they will last forever. But what's the point of that. Once opened, add a bit of good quality olive oil to keep them moist and keep them in the fridge. As you use it up, keep adding a bit more olive oil. It seems to drink it up somehow and it makes it last much longer.
2. Strength
To test your tolerance, put a quarter of a teaspoon of chilli on a small slice of cheese. Chew slowly and for as long as possible before swallowing it. This is where you get the full sense of the aroma, I call it 'green-ness', because they smell and taste green. Generally I would add a decent teaspoon to a plate of food.
3. Use
Your chilli is cooked, so to get the best out of it, add it to food after it's cooked as a condiment.
4. My favourite foods to enjoy it with
- Cheddar cheese and crackers
- Cheese toasties
- Bacon and Eggs
- Scrambled eggs
- Pizza
- Pasta dishes
- Bangers and mash
- Added to tomato ketchup
- Soups
- Tacos
- In sandwiches
__________________________________________________________
If you want to know exactly what's in it and how I made it, the whole story can be found from an earlier batch right here.
Enjoy!
Thursday, 31 January 2013
Wood Fired Pizza in the Snow

Unlike pizza chain food (the one named after the game with pieces with dots on them springs to mind, and there was one barely a hundred yards away), these pizzas are thin crust and cooked carefully and quickly in the mobile woodfired oven.
I ordered a chicken pesto, pepperoni with jalepeno and a ham and cheese calzone then hung around to chat with the friendly guys in the van about pizza and fire. You know me.... where does the dough come from?... what wood do you burn in the fire?... how much do you go through?...when do you light the fire?... at what temperature?... how many pizzas will you do tonight? etc. They burn ash. the king of all fire wood. I was impressed.
We chatted while I hung around outside the van in subzero temperatures, thoroughly enjoying myself. If you look at the photo of the oven, the three bottles of olive oil have solidified on the side facing the outside. I snapped a few ropey pics with my Blackberry, mentioned my blog to the guys and said I hoped to write something.
Rico's have about half a dozen vans covering the Oxfordshire area. Ours comes every Thursday. And what day is today? Thursday! Search them out and try one. You won't look back.
Sunday, 9 December 2012
2012 Christmas Chilli
There is nothing so satisfying as spending ages contemplating, growing, procuring and preserving chillies. It kind of perpetuates their freshness and individual flavours, far beyond the usual shelf life of freshly picked produce.
I'm going to keep this article short and sweet. I've just made four batches of chilli, red, green, homegrown and imported and it took ages. People often say I should sell them, but I say it takes all the fun out of it. I only do it a few times a year and purely so I can enjoy the pleasure of giving it away to friends, family and clients.
Each 4 oz jar is individually lableled and if you want one, all you have to do is this:
- Post a comment on this blog
- Send me your postal address by email to firefoodie@gmail.com
Naturally, my regular readers from the UK, Ireland, US, Europe, Australia, South Africa and the Philippines (and you know who you are) are first in line. So get your addresses to me and I promise you a little treat in the post. I also promise to keep your personal details supremely confidential. It doesn't matter where you live, it's Christmas after all.
Enjoy the photos and I look forward to hearing from you!
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The home grown stash from the freezer |
One of my two trays on the window cill, early in the season |
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Extra ingredients for the first home grown batches |
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The home grown batches in jars |
My special order, 2000 Indian green chillies |
A daunting task |
So fresh! |
and the big ones were much quicker |
Saturday, 17 November 2012
Beef & Venison Bourgignon in the Potjie
A twist on the French classic dish, and cooked over an open fire. Perfect.
We had planned a Friday evening dinner party, so we needed something that could be prepared and cooked the night before. Our brazier had been extremely neglected for far too long so I was champing at the bit to fire it up and enjoy the still, dark autumn evening.
Originally, the bourgignon was going to be just venison, but my Thursday visit to the local butcher across the road from our office forced me to do a swift re-think. They had only half the amount of venison I needed to feed eight, so I decided to top it up with beef chuck steak and hope for the best.
There is a fair amount of preparation involved, mainly the painstaking task of peeling what seems to be a never-ending pile of tiny shallots. Don't shortcut however, as the effort is totally worth it.
The potjie is just ideal for this type of dish. Hot at first to sear the bacon, meat and mushrooms, then a long gentle cook using just about anything that burns as fuel. Unlike the fire needed for an open grill, a potjie fire is very forgiving. I used offcuts from a bookcase I made for our Luca over a few 'spare' weekends, plus bits of a broken oak toilet seat I had secretly stashed in the garage. My wife insisted that it be thrown away and NEVER be burnt to cook with. So I smiled sweetly and hid it, knowing exactly what I was going to do with it.
This recipe can be cooked on the hob or in the oven, so if you don't have your own potjie (a traditional African three legged pot) don't let yourself miss out. This recipe is to die for. But on the other hand, you could go and get one and enjoy an outdoor fire on a beautiful, still, cold evening.
For the quantities for my shopping list, I started with a Gordon Ramsay recipe I found at bbcgoodfood.com. However, having made plenty of bourgignon's in the past, I was thinking of ways to make it outstanding. So here are a few tips. Firstly, the sauce needs thickening, so I added a heaped desert spoon of plain flour early on. Secondly, to add some real punch, immediatley before serving I stirred in a mixture of finely chopped garlic, thyme and mushrooms, leaving some aside for a fresh, pungent, and colourful garnish. I seasoned the dish heavily, with lots of black pepper and sea salt, ground in a pestle and mortar.
All those aromas combined with the rich, glossy sauce and tender slow cooked meat packs some serious punch, and leaves a lingering peppery aftertaste. It went down a treat, our guests loved it.
INGREDIENTS (Serves 8)
- 1.2 kg of beef/venison shoulder, 3-4cm dice
- 1.5 bottles of red wine
- 200g cubed pancetta or finely chopped streaky smoked bacon
- 400g chestnut mushrooms, halved
- 50g chestnut mushrooms finely chopped for garnish
- A few sprigs of fresh thyme or marjoram (keep some for the garnish)
- 500g shallots, peeled, whole
- 1 tomato, chopped
- 3 cloves of garlic, whole
- 2 cloves of garlic, finely chopped for garnish
- 1 tbsp tomato puree
- 1 heaped desert spoon plain flour
METHOD
Start by preparing all of the ingredients. I wish I had noticed Gordon Ramsay's tip about pouring boiling water of the shallots... it makes the skins slip off, rather than the painstaking way I peeled each one individually... next time!
Heat up the potjie over a small fire, then add the bacon/pancetta. No oil needed as the bacon fat does the job. Once the bacon is cooked, remove it, leaving the fat in the pot. Then brown the beef/venison with the thyme and remove it from the pot. Brown the shallots and remove them also. The pot needs to remain really hot during this stage. Finally, fry the mushrooms and tomato for a few minutes before returning the previous items plus the tomato puree to the pot. Add the flour and stir it through, then add the wine and bring it to a gentle simmer.
Check that the fire remains low and stir from time to time. After about one hour, taste and check for seasoning. Add lots of pepper and a bit of salt. Cook for a further hour and remove from the fire.
I left mine in the pot in the kitchen overnight before re-heating on the hob the following evening. When hot and ready to serve, check for seasoning again (go on, add more pepper and a bit more salt), add the finely chopped garlic and stir through. Serve onto hot plates and sprinkle over more finely chopped mushrooms and the remaining fresh herbs.
We served the dish with crispy roast potatoes, roast chanterey carrots and steamed green beans. Hearty, wholesome, aromatic and peppery. What more could you want at this time of year.
For a starter, I made a light and refreshing salmon mouse and my wife made a delightful pecan pie for desert.
Originally, the bourgignon was going to be just venison, but my Thursday visit to the local butcher across the road from our office forced me to do a swift re-think. They had only half the amount of venison I needed to feed eight, so I decided to top it up with beef chuck steak and hope for the best.
There is a fair amount of preparation involved, mainly the painstaking task of peeling what seems to be a never-ending pile of tiny shallots. Don't shortcut however, as the effort is totally worth it.
The potjie is just ideal for this type of dish. Hot at first to sear the bacon, meat and mushrooms, then a long gentle cook using just about anything that burns as fuel. Unlike the fire needed for an open grill, a potjie fire is very forgiving. I used offcuts from a bookcase I made for our Luca over a few 'spare' weekends, plus bits of a broken oak toilet seat I had secretly stashed in the garage. My wife insisted that it be thrown away and NEVER be burnt to cook with. So I smiled sweetly and hid it, knowing exactly what I was going to do with it.
This recipe can be cooked on the hob or in the oven, so if you don't have your own potjie (a traditional African three legged pot) don't let yourself miss out. This recipe is to die for. But on the other hand, you could go and get one and enjoy an outdoor fire on a beautiful, still, cold evening.
For the quantities for my shopping list, I started with a Gordon Ramsay recipe I found at bbcgoodfood.com. However, having made plenty of bourgignon's in the past, I was thinking of ways to make it outstanding. So here are a few tips. Firstly, the sauce needs thickening, so I added a heaped desert spoon of plain flour early on. Secondly, to add some real punch, immediatley before serving I stirred in a mixture of finely chopped garlic, thyme and mushrooms, leaving some aside for a fresh, pungent, and colourful garnish. I seasoned the dish heavily, with lots of black pepper and sea salt, ground in a pestle and mortar.
All those aromas combined with the rich, glossy sauce and tender slow cooked meat packs some serious punch, and leaves a lingering peppery aftertaste. It went down a treat, our guests loved it.
INGREDIENTS (Serves 8)
- 1.2 kg of beef/venison shoulder, 3-4cm dice
- 1.5 bottles of red wine
- 200g cubed pancetta or finely chopped streaky smoked bacon
- 400g chestnut mushrooms, halved
- 50g chestnut mushrooms finely chopped for garnish
- A few sprigs of fresh thyme or marjoram (keep some for the garnish)
- 500g shallots, peeled, whole
- 1 tomato, chopped
- 3 cloves of garlic, whole
- 2 cloves of garlic, finely chopped for garnish
- 1 tbsp tomato puree
- 1 heaped desert spoon plain flour
Frying the bacon first to release the fat |
METHOD
Start by preparing all of the ingredients. I wish I had noticed Gordon Ramsay's tip about pouring boiling water of the shallots... it makes the skins slip off, rather than the painstaking way I peeled each one individually... next time!
Heat up the potjie over a small fire, then add the bacon/pancetta. No oil needed as the bacon fat does the job. Once the bacon is cooked, remove it, leaving the fat in the pot. Then brown the beef/venison with the thyme and remove it from the pot. Brown the shallots and remove them also. The pot needs to remain really hot during this stage. Finally, fry the mushrooms and tomato for a few minutes before returning the previous items plus the tomato puree to the pot. Add the flour and stir it through, then add the wine and bring it to a gentle simmer.
Browning the meat |
I hate using a flash at night, so I tried using a torch instead |
Check that the fire remains low and stir from time to time. After about one hour, taste and check for seasoning. Add lots of pepper and a bit of salt. Cook for a further hour and remove from the fire.
I left mine in the pot in the kitchen overnight before re-heating on the hob the following evening. When hot and ready to serve, check for seasoning again (go on, add more pepper and a bit more salt), add the finely chopped garlic and stir through. Serve onto hot plates and sprinkle over more finely chopped mushrooms and the remaining fresh herbs.
We served the dish with crispy roast potatoes, roast chanterey carrots and steamed green beans. Hearty, wholesome, aromatic and peppery. What more could you want at this time of year.
For a starter, I made a light and refreshing salmon mouse and my wife made a delightful pecan pie for desert.
Our lovely Lolly sniffing around for tidbits |
Luca's book case, the offcuts provided fuel for our meal |
Wednesday, 31 October 2012
The 99p Cooked Chickens from Waitrose
This was a Sunday afternoon experience I did not expect. Our weekend was thrown into turmoil as a result of taking on a new town centre office and having to do out of hours work getting it fitted out.
My lovely wife was running around after kids and their Sunday activities, and I was on the tools installing bespoke magnetic display panels. Normally I'd be at home preparing our traditional Sunday roast, but that afternoon it was not possible. As a consolation I offered to go to Waitrose for a pre-cooked chicken before 4pm closing so all I'd need to do was roast some small chipped potatoes, steam some greens and make a sauce. Sounds simple and quick, I'm sure you'll agree.
It was simple I'll admit. But getting there involved an experience I had not predicted. I rushed to the nearby Waitrose at about 3:50 and headed straight for the cooked chicken counter panicking that there may be none left. I was in luck.
I spent a few minutes pondering over whether one large or two small chickens would meet our needs whilst I felt mildly ignored by the three assistants behind the counter as they seemed to be just chatting to the only other customer beside me. I'd just made my decision (2 small ones) when an announcement came over the PA. I was so fixated with my need for chickens I didn't hear a word of it. The next thing I was aware of was the giggling behind the counter as the assistants announced 'all chickens 99p' as the shop was about to close. The eyes in the back of my head sensed a swarm of customers approaching, and to my front the staff were saying 'quick! buy the lot before the usual mob grab them all!' Jesting I said 'I'll take them all for a tenner' still not aware of the 'usual' crowd building up behind me. All of a sudden I became acutely aware of the tension around me, I slowly turned around to see about 20 anxious people, hovering around nervously with empty shopping baskets, each one jostling for position hoping not to miss out on one of the dozen or so 99p bargains. Not a queue, just a sort of wriggling gathering.
I feel a bit mean writing this, as I truly understand how that for some the need for value for money food is so real, but my mind couldn't stop speculating... 'the usuals'? I thought. I imagined the same bunch of people visting the supermarket at a specific time, anxiously wandering around with empty shopping baskets, hoping to score the cooked chicken for a quid. They all know each other I'm sure, but are afraid to acknowledge that in case it jeopardises their chances at the counter. And they just might miss out on that 99p Sunday treat bargain.
One chicken did the job for our Sunday dinner, and the second one became a Thai green chicken curry the next day. And a bargain at that.
Sunday, 2 September 2012
Roasted Sea Bass in the Weber
WITH FENNEL, NEW POTATOES & TOMATOES
Somehow August managed to get the better of me. Two and a half weeks in France and four days in Northern Ireland, and for the first time since I started this blog over four years ago, I failed to meet my own target of at least one blog per month. Shame on me. OK, a fire ban in France was no help, and desperately trying to keep up with self employed work commitments also got in the way. I'm just trying to convince myself of course, as there is NO excuse. So here I am, visiting friends in Ballymoney in Northern Ireland, about to tell a story about an evening we had in Herefordshire, just before our summer holiday. And somehow, it's September already.
Remember my South African foodie mate Ben? Most recently he gave me a cast iron potjie for my birthday (the one that fell off the Vespa), and he also saved up a special cockerel for one of our visits (A Tale of Two Cockerels). I also designed a purpose made outdoor braai for him in Oxfordshire before he sold his house and moved to paradise (aka Bringsty Common). We have much foodie stuff in common and so much look forward to seeing the Van Vuurens at any opportunity.
We were counting down the days and squeezing in as much work before departing for our traditional two weeks in France. A chance phone call to the VV's and we found that we were all free to meet up the weekend before we travelled, and at very short notice. So off we went to stay with them one Friday evening.
Ben had decided on sea bass as a main course, baked over a bed of herbs and vegetables. His starter was an incredible assembly of smoked duck, blue cheese, strawberry and broad beans with a balsamic vinaigrette dressing. Beautifully presented and amazing to eat.
The great thing about Ben's sea bass main course is that it is a one pot dish, fish and side dish of herby vegetables all cooked and served from one dish. The fennel complements the fish beautifully and the potatoes are perfect for soaking up all those lovely juices.
INGREDIENTS:
- 500g new potatoes, parboiled
- 20 Cherry tomatoes
- 1 large bulb of fennel, sliced
- Chopped chives
- Chopped oregano
- A few knobs of butter
- 4-5 whole seabass, cleaned
- Olive oil
- Sea salt
METHOD:
Lay all of the ingredients (except the fish) in a baking dish and bake uncovered in the Weber (or oven) for about 30 minutes. Make a few slashes in the skin of the sea bass, rub in some olive oil, place the fish on top with some extra fennel leaves and finish with a dose of coarse sea salt. Bake for a further 20-30 minutes until the fish has cooked through.
Somehow August managed to get the better of me. Two and a half weeks in France and four days in Northern Ireland, and for the first time since I started this blog over four years ago, I failed to meet my own target of at least one blog per month. Shame on me. OK, a fire ban in France was no help, and desperately trying to keep up with self employed work commitments also got in the way. I'm just trying to convince myself of course, as there is NO excuse. So here I am, visiting friends in Ballymoney in Northern Ireland, about to tell a story about an evening we had in Herefordshire, just before our summer holiday. And somehow, it's September already.
Remember my South African foodie mate Ben? Most recently he gave me a cast iron potjie for my birthday (the one that fell off the Vespa), and he also saved up a special cockerel for one of our visits (A Tale of Two Cockerels). I also designed a purpose made outdoor braai for him in Oxfordshire before he sold his house and moved to paradise (aka Bringsty Common). We have much foodie stuff in common and so much look forward to seeing the Van Vuurens at any opportunity.
We were counting down the days and squeezing in as much work before departing for our traditional two weeks in France. A chance phone call to the VV's and we found that we were all free to meet up the weekend before we travelled, and at very short notice. So off we went to stay with them one Friday evening.
Ben had decided on sea bass as a main course, baked over a bed of herbs and vegetables. His starter was an incredible assembly of smoked duck, blue cheese, strawberry and broad beans with a balsamic vinaigrette dressing. Beautifully presented and amazing to eat.
The great thing about Ben's sea bass main course is that it is a one pot dish, fish and side dish of herby vegetables all cooked and served from one dish. The fennel complements the fish beautifully and the potatoes are perfect for soaking up all those lovely juices.
INGREDIENTS:
- 500g new potatoes, parboiled
- 20 Cherry tomatoes
- 1 large bulb of fennel, sliced
- Chopped chives
- Chopped oregano
- A few knobs of butter
- 4-5 whole seabass, cleaned
- Olive oil
- Sea salt
METHOD:
Lay all of the ingredients (except the fish) in a baking dish and bake uncovered in the Weber (or oven) for about 30 minutes. Make a few slashes in the skin of the sea bass, rub in some olive oil, place the fish on top with some extra fennel leaves and finish with a dose of coarse sea salt. Bake for a further 20-30 minutes until the fish has cooked through.
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Ben's amazing smoked duck breast starter |
Monday, 16 July 2012
Char-grilled Pork Tenderloin with Sage Butter
Get the ambulance on stand-by. This is decadence on a plate. Supremely tender pork fillet, intense fried sage leaves and a buttery sauce. See what I mean?
I was desperate to light some fire, after what has proved to be the wettest, coldest July since records began. The 'forecast' predicted a dry but cloudy Sunday. Good enough for me. The recipe idea came about following a visit to wonderful friends last weekend. We were served pan seared pork fillet with a mushroom and cream sauce to die for.
The lack of rain (and time) got me thinking about a similar, simple, flavoursome Sunday family meal, cooked over charcoal based on marinating and grilling a pork tenderloin fillet, and complimenting it with a sage flavoured buttery sauce.
Pork tenderloin is an underrated cut of meat. Superficially expensive, but in fact one fillet easily feeds four people. This fillet cost around £7 and proved to be superb value for money.
Years ago, I stumbled across a Tuscan recipe involving sage leaves fried in butter. I gave them a go, and I promise you, once you get your lips around one of these bad boys there is no turning back. The sweet, salty, aromatic burst you get when you bite into one is unforgetable. The effort involved in making them is truly worth it.
So somehow, the Tuscan recipe memory, and the recent tenderloin dinner resulted in an idea for a slightly different family Sunday meal. I thought that by frying the sage leaves in butter, not only would I get the crispy green treats, but I'd be left with a wonderfully flavoured base for a sauce. This actually was not the case. Although the leaves fried beautifully, the butter was by then properly hammered and had that burnt, bitter taste that you would best want to avoid.
I re-thought the whole thing as I went along. OK, the sage leaves were good, but the sauce would need to be made again from scratch. So, I gently melted (loads) more butter, added some of my favourite secret chicken stock powder and a bit of cream. You do not need much of this (remember the ambulance), but wow, it packs some serious punch.
INGREDIENTS:
- Pork fillet
- 3-4 cloves of garlic, crushed
- handful of fresh rosemary
- 2-3 tbsp olive oil
- handful of large sage leaves
- 200g lightly salted butter
- 1 tsp of secret chicken stock powder (ask me and I will gladly tell)
METHOD:
Start by marinating the pork fillet in the olive oil, garlic and rosemary. Rub the fillet with the oil and herbs and wrap in cling film. Keep at room temperature for a few hours, or overnight in the fridge.
Prepare a charcoal grilling fire, then sear the fillet for about 15 minutes, before wrapping in foil and allowing to rest in a warm oven for a further 20 minutes or so.
Melt half the butter in a small pan until it foams, then 3 or 4 at a time, gently fry the sage leaves until they become crisp without changing colour. Lay the fried leaves out on kitchen paper until needed.
Melt the remaining butter in a small pan, add the secret stock powder and cream and keep warm until it's time to serve.
Carve the pork into thin rounds, drizzle the seasoned melted butter over the meat and serve with 4 or 5 crispy sage leaves.
Unforgetable.
I was desperate to light some fire, after what has proved to be the wettest, coldest July since records began. The 'forecast' predicted a dry but cloudy Sunday. Good enough for me. The recipe idea came about following a visit to wonderful friends last weekend. We were served pan seared pork fillet with a mushroom and cream sauce to die for.
The lack of rain (and time) got me thinking about a similar, simple, flavoursome Sunday family meal, cooked over charcoal based on marinating and grilling a pork tenderloin fillet, and complimenting it with a sage flavoured buttery sauce.
Pork tenderloin is an underrated cut of meat. Superficially expensive, but in fact one fillet easily feeds four people. This fillet cost around £7 and proved to be superb value for money.
Years ago, I stumbled across a Tuscan recipe involving sage leaves fried in butter. I gave them a go, and I promise you, once you get your lips around one of these bad boys there is no turning back. The sweet, salty, aromatic burst you get when you bite into one is unforgetable. The effort involved in making them is truly worth it.
So somehow, the Tuscan recipe memory, and the recent tenderloin dinner resulted in an idea for a slightly different family Sunday meal. I thought that by frying the sage leaves in butter, not only would I get the crispy green treats, but I'd be left with a wonderfully flavoured base for a sauce. This actually was not the case. Although the leaves fried beautifully, the butter was by then properly hammered and had that burnt, bitter taste that you would best want to avoid.
I re-thought the whole thing as I went along. OK, the sage leaves were good, but the sauce would need to be made again from scratch. So, I gently melted (loads) more butter, added some of my favourite secret chicken stock powder and a bit of cream. You do not need much of this (remember the ambulance), but wow, it packs some serious punch.
INGREDIENTS:
- Pork fillet
- 3-4 cloves of garlic, crushed
- handful of fresh rosemary
- 2-3 tbsp olive oil
- handful of large sage leaves
- 200g lightly salted butter
- 1 tsp of secret chicken stock powder (ask me and I will gladly tell)
METHOD:
Start by marinating the pork fillet in the olive oil, garlic and rosemary. Rub the fillet with the oil and herbs and wrap in cling film. Keep at room temperature for a few hours, or overnight in the fridge.
Prepare a charcoal grilling fire, then sear the fillet for about 15 minutes, before wrapping in foil and allowing to rest in a warm oven for a further 20 minutes or so.
Melt half the butter in a small pan until it foams, then 3 or 4 at a time, gently fry the sage leaves until they become crisp without changing colour. Lay the fried leaves out on kitchen paper until needed.
Melt the remaining butter in a small pan, add the secret stock powder and cream and keep warm until it's time to serve.
Carve the pork into thin rounds, drizzle the seasoned melted butter over the meat and serve with 4 or 5 crispy sage leaves.
Unforgetable.
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