Hello deer… Venison Pasty

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Hurray! It’s game season again… a chance to cook a broader range of foodstuffs. As the range of seasonal veg decreases, the blackboard at my local butcher’s is filling up with a wonderful selection of goodies. Recently venison and grouse caught my eye, so I snapped some up at Stansfields when I saw it.

I bought a few hundred grams of diced venison without a clear idea of what I wanted to make with it, but I started to entertain a growing desire to make a pasty. I love a well-made pasty, but where I live is pie country so it’s relatively rare to find a genuine, glorious example of the crust-encased pocket of goodness. I’ve made game pie before, but not pasties, so research and experimentation was called for…

Diligent homework threw up a lot of passionate and divisive opinion about pasties in general, and the Cornish pasty in particular. It was clear that under a strict interpretation of the rules this could not be seen as a true Cornish pasty: that requires beef, swede (turnip as we’d call it back home), and if you’re particularly strict, it needs to be made in Cornwall. It was becoming obvious I couldn’t label this as anything but a venison pasty. At least I was in good company: Shakespeare mentions venison pasties in the Merry Wives of Windsor.

So this was a posh imposter (with a heritage, admittedly), with a spread of ingredients which no traditionalist would entertain, but it sounded mouthwateringly good with the venison, and butternut squash as a substitute for turnip. In homage to ‘proper’ pasty making I followed the instructions on the Cornish Pasty Association website, and discounted my original idea of adding a shiitake mushroom and butter reduction over the top of the mix, as I’d read ‘proper’ pasties don’t have any pre-cooked ingredients in them.

As I was in the middle of making the shortcrust pastry for this I remember think I should’ve left baking to Miss South… it’s definitely her forté. I gave it a good go, but only after I’d mixed up the flour, egg (I used one double yolker duck egg), butter, baking soda and salt did I realise I’d have to hand-mix and rub the mix… I only have a hand-held food processor and it was starting to protest strongly at working the dough as vigourously as it needed. Still, I managed to manually get the pastry mix looking biscuity, as it was meant to, and then rolled it into a ball and bunged it into the fridge for an hour or so in some clingfilm to rise up.

To make 3 (rather large and overfilled) pasties I used around 330g venison, 200g of shallots and red onions in roughly equal measure, 300g of butternut squash, and slightly less potato. Ah well, I’ve never been a stickler for measurements anyway. I diced everything fairly small, mixed it all up with the seasoning, and a splash of oil so the flavours would mingle gently. Miss South suggested I supplement the normal seasoning with a pinch of mace: something which proved to be an inspired choice in adding warmth and old-fashioned flavour, redolent of big country house kitchens. It was only after putting the finished pasties in the oven I realised I should really’ve used up the flat-leaf parsley I’d meant to put in. Oh well…

I did over-fill the pasties (perhaps I should’ve made larger pastry circles, or doled 4 fillings out rather than the 3 I managed) so this made the distended pockets rather hard to seal (using a little egg to moisten the edges) and crimp (perhaps crimping should be left to the experts… the CPA, or The Mighty Boosh). I was amused that when I checked various references online crimping was described as a technique one couldn’t easily explain. My induction into this ancient art was somewhat therefore ignominious; and did allow more leakage than it probably should’ve, as the photos testify. I then baked the three of them at a medium heated oven for around 40 minutes, slowly being driven to distraction by the aroma filling the kitchen.

As mentioned my baking skills are not as fully honed as my sister, so in hindsight I wish I’d placed these on a better-greased tray, or even onto a wire shelf to cook. This did absolutely nothing to impact on the flavour though… these pasties were rich, warming and absolutely delicious. Autumnal heaven! Now I’ve lost my pasty cherry I’m going to make more of these with a variety of fillings… perfect for the lunchbox as a self-contained delight.

Gilak, or Persian Perfection!

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This week saw my dear friend E’s birthday and to celebrate this event, she suggested dinner at Gilak on the Holloway Road. Named for the cuisine of a northern region of Iran, with its own distinct language and culture, this is a relative new neighbourhood restaurant close to home for her and she was keen to try it out for size. It ended up being such a great night out in general, it was hard to tell which one of us was having the birthday treat…

Situated very close to Archway tube, this low key restaurant is spacious and friendly. We had booked and checked that despite what Guy Dimond says in Time Out that they are still BYO. We were late for our booking and came clutching champagne but were welcomed calmly and politely and soon seated with a glass of fizz and the impressive menu.

Only one of our party had eaten there before and even if it meant sheer gluttony, we were determined to try as much of the menu as we could, so we each ordered a starter dish which could be shared. E espied the Persian gherkins and olives on the menu before even me, so I went for boorani-e-esenfenaj or steamed spinach in yoghurt dip instead. M went for the dairy free option of kale kebab which is a dip made from smoked aubergine, walnuts, sour pomegranate and garlic with flatbreads on the side. A reprised her previous order of the Gilak Special which is a meze style dish of boiled broad beans, walnuts and smoked fish, eaten with flatbread.

Gilak special

The champagne was starting to go to our hungry heads so we were delighted when the cold starters arrived promptly and were put in the middle of the table to share as wanted, although since I am generally unenamoured of both walnuts and smoked fish I avoided the Gilak Special, but everyone else seemed to enjoy it, especially with the slightly anise infused gherkins and lime soaked olives on the side.

The flatbreads were paper thin and so soft and chewy you could have eaten them on their own, but they were delicious dipped in the slightly sour spinach dip. However, used to scoop up the aubergine dip, they were transformed into something truly spectacular. This rich silky smoky dip could convert even the most ardent aubergine hater into a total obsessive. It was bursting with a multitude of flavours and texture that I could have eaten twice of much of as I did, even though I usually ambivalent aubergine and have made my feelings about walnuts clear. If I’d had more champagne at that point, I’d have blamed the bubbles and licked the plate clean…

Dip heaven…

Having thoroughly enjoyed our starters, we had a moment or two for breathing space, opened some more fizz and grew more excited as we saw plates of fluffy rice and amazing grilled meats go past. We were not disappointed when our turn came.

Kababs

E had gone for a traditional grilled meat kebab or chellow kabab momtaz of both chicken and lamb which wasn’t the most attractive looking dish, but was generously portioned and full of beautifully cooked meats packed full of flavour. M and I had also gone for meat based dishes, with M choosing khorest alou mo samma or chicken in tomato sauce with dried plums. This was deliciously deep flavoured with the sweetness of plums complimenting the umami-ness of the tomato beautifully. The bone in chicken was tender enough to serve with a fork and spoon and it seemed to go down very well, especially with the beautiful rice on the side to soak up the juices.

Chicken with dried plums

I had chosen a stewed lamb dish or koresht gheimah. This is cubed lamb in a tomato sauce with yellow split peas, dried limes and chips. I have to admit the mention of chips in this otherwise very grown up sounding dish is what made me choose it to see if it would be as weird as I thought! And I was not disappointed! A rich thick stew of pulses, lamb and whole dried limes, it came sprinkled with teeny tiny Mini Chip style chips that added a lovely satisfying crunch to each mouthful! Everything worked really well with the limes adding a pleasing pucker to the dish almost like a grown up sweet and sour. I loved it!

Chip-tastic!

A had gone for one of the meat free options on the menu with the mirza ghasemi which is an aubergine based stew with eggs and tomatoes. Not entirely vegetarian, it comes with smoked fish and pickled garlic on the side, but these would be easily avoided if you wanted to go flesh-free. A little bit like the aubergine starter, this wasn’t the most appealing looking dish, but it tasted truly amazing. Tomatoes being a fellow nightshade make natural bedfellows for aubergine and the eggs add the pleasing dairy-esque richness that makes moussaka so delicious, but without being as rich or overwhelming as that dish can be.

Aubergine delight!

Despite the hearty portions, we managed to clear our plates well thanks to the fresh feel of the dishes and good atmosphere. Enjoying ourselves immensely, E and I managed to find enough space to order a plate of zolbia bamyeh or Persian flour and egg rose water pastries drenched in syrup. The others went for a pot of Persian tea, infused with clove and cinnamon and very similar to chai. The pastries were nice, but the least exciting part of the meal since they were simply sweet and syrupy rather than particularly flavoured with rose water or saffron. I didn’t feel they added much, but didn’t regret ordering them either.

Sweet as syrup

Our entire bill, excluding tip, for this veritable feast came to just over £60 (I can’t remember and how many pence) and worked out at around £15 per head. Obviously this is a bit lower because the price of any alcohol isn’t included, but we all felt that for the quality and amount of food, it is an absolute bargain. The efficient and unobtrusive service deserved a good tip and we were pleased to see we could leave what we saw fit. This was generous as we felt very welcome and were well tended to.

Gilak seems to bill itself as a good neighbourhood restaurant, hoping to make people more aware of Persian cuisine, but I’d say it’s in fact just a great restaurant, well worth a visit. If you’re lucky enough to have it in your neighbourhood, then I have serious aubergine envy. I’ll be back here like a shot. I’ve even got my next meal planned out from the menu (even though it might involve two main courses!) With food like this available there, this south London girl will be Archway bound again as soon as possible!

Jerk Cook Out, Brockwell Park

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I have just returned from the outdoor food event of the year and one of the best reasons to live in South London: The Annual Jerk Cook Out. This feast of Carribbean food has outgrown its previous home at the Horniman Museum and is now hosted at Brockwell Park in Brixton, making it much easier to lure some hungry friends along to get stuck in!

We arrived just after one o’clock and things were building up nicely, but weren’t too packed. A quick saunter round eyeing up the offerings later and we joined the burgeoning queue at the Tasty Jerk Ltd stall. The busiest of all the stalls, we were also drawn by the magnificient jerk spit roast lamb out front and phalanx of jerk drums along the side of the stall. This was serious business.

The queue moved quickly and we just had time to decide on a jerk pork and jerk chicken, plus a helping of the lamb which I have never seen offered before. We got some rice and peas on the side of the pork too as it looked particularly moist and delicious. The pork and chicken was with us in a trice, but we did have wait about five minutes extra for the lamb, while the queue for the stall expanded rapidly.

Finally clutching our well filled plates, we found a spot to sample them and realised how worth the wait it had been. The pork was glorious. Stained as pink on the edges from peppers and sugar as char siu, it was soft and succulent enough to cut through with the rather flimsy plastic fork we were given. Tangy with chilli and deliciously charred and chewy from the barbeque, we loved it.

Jerk pork with rice and peas

The chicken was equally good. Cooked on the bone and roughly chopped into pieces there was a good mix between white and dark meat. It sparkled with the fruitiness of scotch bonnets and our lips tingled in no time, especially when we scooped up some of the homemade chilli sauce on the side.

Jerk chicken

But the star of the stall was the jerk lamb. We’d managed to get pretty much the first serving (thanks to E and S for waiting it out!) off the spit roast and our thickly carved slices were a good proportion of crispy skin and juicy, still slightly pink meat. The skin was rich with fat, musky allspice and sweet chillis, melding beautifully with the luscious meat, dripping sweet juice down our hands as we feasted on slice after slice of the lamb. Not only is this the best jerk I’ve ever eaten, it’s some of the best lamb I’ve ever eaten. I would definitely venture all the way to South Norwood any day of the week for this, especially at the bargain price of £5 per plate without sides!

Lovely lamb...

With empty plates in front of us and a mountain of wet wipes to show how hands on we’d been, we moved on before the the ever growing queue for Tasty Jerk Ltd trampled us. Another wander between the stalls led us in search of jerk ribs, but watching them grown cold and unappealing as we queued put us off. We contemplated trying something totally different with a refreshing shaved ice, but our eyes were caught by a stall advertising jerk brie…

Utterly intrigued, especially by the cute little V for vegetarian beside it, we just had to try it. And since we were getting it, we thought we might as well get some festival and fried plaintain as well to add some carbs to our feast! And we are glad we did! Partly to see how one jerks cheese and partly because it was actually delicious!

Festival of carbs!

Goo-on then!

The sweet creamy brie went very well with the spicy jerk breadcrumbs it was wrapped in before being deep fried. The cheese was gorgeously gooey and molten inside and if it wasn’t so rich, I could have eaten another one! But I wanted to leave room for the delicious festival, which if you haven’t had it, is like a less sweet version of a doughnut. Carbs finished we strolled round checking out the rest of the stalls, debating whether to go back to Tasty Jerk Ltd, but being scared off by how big it had got! Feeling more than replete and with still tingling lips, we decided to avoid the increasing crowds and head home before it all got too stressful for one’s digestion!

I’ve already put next year’s Cook Out in my diary already and will be there bright and early next year to make sure I’m first in line again for that jerk lamb. I’ll also remember to bring something to sit on and a few beers to go with it!

Etta’s Seafood Kitchen, Brixton

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Times are a-changing for the 1930s covered market in Brixton formerly known as Granville Arcade. Newly listed to prevent demolition, it has been re-named Brixton Village and is taking on a new lease of life thanks to a mixture of recently opened vintage stores, galleries and pop-up shops and the long established fishmongers and butchery stalls and stores selling food and goods from all over the world. Accompanying these retail outlets are some wonderful places to eat and drink, both new and old…

One of the newer arrivals is Etta’s Seafood Kitchen on 6th Avenue. Immediately welcoming with its purple and pink frontage and tables outside, you step inside to a low key environment with a hotch-potch of tables and some good music playing. The menu is simple, but effective, listing a variety of mains, starters and a great kids’ selection along with fresh juices and sides.

Short and sweet

Etta’s offers a mix of fresh and cooked seafood with both a traditional and Carribean feel with a reasonably priced oyster plate, fish curries or a seafood linguine all sounding enticing. However since M and I had already sneaked a quick slice of pizza at The Agile Rabbit we weren’t just as hungry as we might have been for pasta or rice, and decided to go for a mussel pot each and a portion of the crab fritters to share. Our choice was also influenced by the excellent prices with the mussel pot costing a fiver…

Our drinks arrived quickly and my mango and guava juice was tasty, but I was massively distracted though by the crab fritters coming to the table in style. Freshly fried billowing pillows of golden crabbiness on a lovely rectangular plate and an egg cup of sweet chilli sauce, these looked sensational. And they tasted as good as they looked. Light crunchy outers with soft sweet crab filled middles spiked with fresh chilli and coriander in the batter, they were extremely moreish. I skipped the sweet chilli sauce as I’m not a big fan of it, but the fritters had excellent flavours on their own. We were also impressed by the size of the portion for a mere £3.50.

Crab fritters

The mussels appeared at the table steaming hot and promptly and were again a good sized portion. I love mussels, but find that quite often these days they lack much flavour apart from a brineyness so I was trepidatious. No need, these little babies were sweet and tasty with a gorgeous cooking liquor infused with a hint of curry, fresh coriander and lots of garlic. We abandoned much semblance of table manners and devoured our mountain of mussels with our hands. Despite the finger bowl provided, we created a pile of napkins as tall as that of the mussel shells…

One partly eaten portion of mussels…

We didn’t have a single unopened mussel between us and they were beautifully clean and grit free apart from one solitary barnacle that confirmed these weren’t frozen and thawed bi-valves, but fabulously fresh specimens from a market that specialises in fish! We cleared our plates with gusto and my only complaint was that there was nothing to soak up the cooking juices. I managed to resist the urge to drink them out of the dish and sat back feeling very satisfied.

The cafe around us was a good level of busy for a Tuesday lunchtime with the outside tables playing host to several people just calling in for a quick plate of fresh oysters, as well as those tucking into the lovely looking linguine on their lunchbreak. We didn’t feel rushed to eat and leave, but I can imagine it is a fight to get a table here on a Saturday lunchtime!

Our bill came to a mere £16.50 between two for two mains, a shared starter and drinks. All the food is freshly prepared by Etta herself who chatted away to us as we paid, telling us how her kids help out with the cooking and waiting and that all the ingredients are super-fresh and from the local market where possible. Our mussels though (and much of the fish and seafood) came from Billingsgate rather than the local fishmongers which is fine by me as they were such good quality!

Our lunch genuinely felt like sitting in someone’s kitchen for good food and good feelings, but without any sense of it being contrived or cute. This is good home cooking with a serious does of Brixton charm and style. I love seafood and am tickled pink to discover somewhere close to home to indulge my cravings without taking out a mortgage to pay for it. I can’t wait to go back and try the fish curry and the linguine next…in fact, i’ll even skip the pizza to make sure I can do them justice!

Ice Magic: Nitrogen Ice Cream at ChinChinLabs

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Food has become more than fuel the past few years thanks to the influence of luminaries such as Ferran Adria, Bompas and Parr and Heston Blumenthal who create fabulous flights of fantasy with their ingredients. But while those creations make great dining (and of course television and books) they aren’t usually easily available to the average person in the street. Therefore my eyes lit up when I heard that Europe’s first nitrogen ice cream bar has opened in Camden in the shape of ChinChin Laboratorists…

This is the chance to witness some gastronomic theatre while eating some great ice cream without re-mortgaging yourself for the pleasure. It sounded worth braving the teenage goths of Camden for and it didn’t take much persuasion to get a group of us together to try it out this Friday afternoon.

Opened last Sunday by husband and wife Ahrash Akbari-Kalhur and Nyisha Weber this dinky little lab designed by Okay Studios is tucked away between the joss sticks and hemp items of Camden Lock and despite being small, is easy to spot thanks to the wooden swings hanging outside. This sums up ChinChin Labs perfectly: a rather adult idea that makes you feel like a kid again!

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