Redeem the Swede!

Well, it isn't going to redeem itself, is it? 

Today was the day that a courageous band of visionaries descended on Herne Hill Market to show the world what can be achieved with a bit of imagination, a bit of gumption, and a lot of swede. 

To explain. The people at Local Greens decided it was time for the humble swede to shed its drab, thrift-shop clothes and learn to be beautiful. So they invited their customers to compete against each other in a bloody battle to the death in a battle to see who could create the most delicious swede dishes. They lined up top food journalist and beard cultivator Jay Rayner to judge our outpourings, on the basis that he would pick dishes that made a virtue of swede. They had warming trays. They were prepared. As it turned out, so were we. 

The breadth of dishes was astonishing, as was the quality. There was chutney. There was a souffle. There was a swede, orange and black pepper quiche. But none of them won. 

Third place went to a swede curry. It was a beautiful colour and very tasty. Second place, a thai swede salad, with swede taking the place of green papaya. That worked a treat, with a lovely warming kick of chilli on what was a very cold day. First place went to 'field and forest pie' - from what I could tell (it had been significantly 'got at' by the time I reached it) a sort of cottage pie with swede taking the place of spuds. Very nice indeed, and if you like the sound of it you can have some at Pullen's in Herne Hill as they will be putting it on their menu.  

Regular readers(!) of this blog will remember I threatened to make swede ice cream; this I did, and I'm pleased to say it earned me the coveted 'Invention prize' - to prove it, here is me being awarded the prize by Mr Rayner himself! He said the ice cream was 'edible'. I really couldn't have asked for more than that. 

Not wanting to be thought of as a one-trick pony, I made a swede pie as well for which the ice cream was intended as a mere accompaniment. Based on a pumpkin pie but with slightly different spicing and swede instead of pumpkin, it went remarkably well considering I've never even eaten pumpkin pie before let alone made one. It all disappeared as well, in the free-for-all that followed the judging, so it must have been alright. I am stuck with rather a lot of ice cream though.

Swede Pie with Swede Ice Cream

Serves loads

3 decent sized swedes

400ml double cream

600ml milk

a few drops of vanilla extract

2 or 3 cloves

2 egg yolks

Half a cup, or thereabouts, of caster sugar. Might've been more. Just keep tasting and adding.

200g plain flour

120g cold butter

3 tbsp caster sugar

Pinch of salt

1 egg yolk, mixed with 3 tbsp cold water

200ml evaporated milk

2 star anise

1 tsp fennel seeds

200g light brown sugar

1 tsp ground cinnamon

1 tsp ground ginger

2 eggs

Begin by peeling and chopping the swedes and roasting in a foil parcel with a few knobs of butter for about 90 minutes at gas mark 5. Puree, and allow to cool.

For the ice cream, warm the milk and cream up with the vanilla extract and cloves; meanwhile, give the egg yolks and sugar a good old mix until pale and creamy. Add half the swede to the milk and cream and mix until smooth, then add to the egg and sugar mixture a bit at a time stirring as you go so that the eggs don't scramble. Pour it all into a pan and warm it up gently, stirring all the while, until it is thick enough to coat the back of a spoon. Allow to cool, pour into a plastic container and bung it in the freezer. Remove every hour or so and give it a good mix up - do this a few times, then let it freeze. 

For the pie: Get the flour into a bowl and grate the butter in. Rub together with cold fingertips until it's all combined evenly, like breadcrumbs. Add the salt and sugar, then the egg yolk and water a little at a time, cutting it into the mixture with a knife until you can bring it all together with your hands. Line a 26cm tin with it, cover it with cling film and let it sit in the fridge for an hour. Replace the cling film with grease-proof paper and baking beans, and bake for 25 minutes at gas mark 6, removing the beans and paper for the last ten. 

Warm the evaporated milk in a pan with the star anise and fennel seeds. Allow to bubble away gently and infuse until the colour of the milk deepens to ochre. 

To the swede add the sugar, cinnamon, ginger and eggs, then pour in the milk through a sieve. Stir until smooth, pour into the pastry case and bake at gas mark 5 for 40-45 minutes. Allow to cool. Serve at room temperature with a quenelle (or a blob if you prefer) of the ice cream. 

So I reckon the swede has been properly redeemed. The occasion was so good I think it ought to be repeated, but which unfairly sneered-at vegetable would make a suitable subject? 30 people in close proximity all eating Jerusalem artichokes is probably a recipe for disaster...

I'll open the debate with peas, just because it's my personal opinion that they're a complete waste of chlorophyll. Any advance on peas?

Meanwhile, here's a heart-warming photo of lots and lots of people, all getting together to dig the swede.

Sprouts and things

I'm afraid I've been suffering from a distinct lack of imagination with regards to my veggie cooking in recent days. I'm going to blame it on the superior quality of the veg we've been getting. 

Take the cauliflower. There are any number of ways to cook it, and any number of things to season it with, but all I wanted to do with it was make a lovely big puddle of cauliflower puree to dip a pan-fried duck breast into. Pureeing is a good way to use all of the stem as well as the florets, and if you simmer it in milk instead of water it makes a lusciously smooth puree with a fantastic cauliflower flavour. Salt and pepper are the only necessary additions.

Then there was the cavolo nero. Such an amazing vegetable. Open the bag, stick your nose in and smell the minerals! It's a little-known fact that Isambard Kingdon Brunel originally planned to construct the Clifton Suspension Bridge out of cavolo nero, and was only dissuaded when friends and well-wishers suggested it might be a bit floppy. Still, there must be so much iron in there, and it's so flavourful - I really don't feel the need to mess about with it much. It just gets roughly chopped and fried in butter with some finely sliced garlic. A delicious accompaniment to pretty much anything, I reckon. 

But what I really wanted to do with this was post to celebrate the unfairly-maligned Brussels sprout. 

I'll be honest: as a child I hated the things as much as the next fussy eater. I was glad I was only subjected to them on Christmas day. Oddly, the rest of my family seemed to dislike them too, including my grandma, though it was she that chose to put them on the menu. Perhaps it was designed to make us appreciate her lovingly constructed pigs in blankets even more. 

It wasn't until I was into my 20s that I discovered that sprouts needn't be a horribly bitter but otherwise flavourless ball of green mush. I'm now of the opinion that sprouts should never be served whole. They need to be finely sliced, and sautéed either on their own or with some bacon lardons. Or garlic. Or even sliced almonds. Just for a few minutes, until starting to brown in places. If you do that with them, they are absolutely delicious. 

If you really want to go for broke, you can bake your sliced sprouts under a little blanket of cream and cheese until the top is lightly golden and bubbling. Or, if you happened to have been within earshot of legendary food critic Jay Rayner today at the Redeem the Swede competition - as I was! (more of which later) - you might try mixing very finely sliced raw sprouts with anchovy mayonnaise. 

Unfortunately we seem to be at the end of the sprout season for this year. So hopefully you'll remember this photo when they come around again next winter, and remember to slice your sprouts!

Later this evening I will recount events at today's Redeem the Swede competition and publish my award-winning recipe for swede ice cream! 

Simple pleasures

It's been a while, but I thought it worth sharing a few things I've been amusing myself with over the last few days. An apology first though - the camera I was using before was borrowed. My own camera appears to have given up accurately reading light levels, which is a fairly important function, and as a result the machine is effectively useless, and I need a new one. So I don't have any photos of what I cooked. You'll just have to take my word for it. In case you would miss some sort of illustrative photography, here is a picture of a Swede:

Simple pleasure #1: Swede Dauphinoise

Technically I should be practising for the 'Redeem the Swede' competition, which regular readers will remember I have foolishly entered. But I also want to cook stuff that I actually want to eat, and given that you can use a swede for pretty much anything you'd use a spud for, I decided to have a crack at swede dauphinoise. It's easy to do and it turned out very nicely indeed. 

Serves 2

One average sized swede
One clove of garlic
300ml double cream

Quarter the swede then finely slice it. A mandoline would probably be useful for this (the bladed kitchen instrument, not a mandolin, the stringed musical instrument), but I just use a good sharp knife and a technique copied off the telly. Thinly slice the garlic and mix it up with the swede. Start layering the swede garlic mix in an oven tray, seasoning with salt and pepper as you go, but it really doesn't have to be neat. 'Chuck it all in there' would have been just as useful an instruction. Pour the cream over, getting it into all the nooks and crannies and making sure the top is all creamy. 

Pop it into a pre-heated oven at about gas 5 for maybe 45 minutes, I'm really sorry I didn't really pay too much attention to time. The important thing is that the point of a knife goes straight through with no effort and the top is lovely and brown and bubbling. If you wanted you could sprinkle some grated cheese over the top with ten minutes to go. I'm afraid I did. 



Simple pleasure #2: Pumpkin and Fennel Risotto

I once tried a make a pumpkin curry and the pumpkin ended up a bit mushy. It didn't work.  Not wanting to ruin my risotto by accidentally mashing the pumpkin, I decided to make the inevitable mashiness a feature rather than a mistake. Thus:

Serves 2

One quarter of an average sized crown prince squash (aka posh pumpkin)
One head of fennel
One onion
Butter
Olive oil
As many cloves of garlic as you fancy. Me? Oh, lots!
150g arborio rice
Half a cube of chicken or veg stock. If you've got the real thing, all the better
'Italian-style hard cheese' such as parmesan

Finely chop the onion and get it frying in a knob of butter with a drop of olive oil, gently so it doesn't go brown. Let it go for a good 15-20 minutes so it softens and the aroma transforms. Meanwhile, slice the squash fairly thin and put in a pan with just enough water to cover it. Bring it to the boil and then simmer until soft. Remove any fluffy fronds from the fennel and set aside. Halve and thinly slice the rest. Again, that mandoline could come in handy. 

Add the garlic and fennel to the onion and fry for a couple of minutes, then add another knob of butter, followed by the rice. Stir until the rice is coated in oniony buttery loveliness. Pour in the pumpkin along with the water it boiled in and simmer until the water is absorbed. Then add the stock a bit at a time and stir until the pumpkin has melted into everything and the rice and fennel are lovely and soft. Add another knob of butter if you dare, and a good grating of parmesan. Taste then season with salt and pepper. 

Slop it into bowls. Dive in. Nod contentedly. Sleep.  



Simple pleasure #3: Jerusalem Artichoke soup

(In the voice and delivery-style of Greg Wallace from Masterchef): Soup doesn't get easier or smoother or velvety-er than this!

Serves 1 (I was really hungry and it was really nice)

A double handful of Jerusalem artichokes
An onion
Knob of butter
Olive oil
A clove of garlic
Water

Slice the onion. Fry in a knob of butter and dribble of olive oil until your kitchen smells amazing. Add the garlic and the artichokes (which you have peeled and chopped in half). Pour in enough water to cover; bring to the boil and simmer until the artichokes are soft, maybe 20 minutes. Pour the lot into a blender, and blend until smooth. Season to taste. 

You can garnish this soup in the bowl with any number of things; a swirl of cream would be my choice. Or you could sprinkle some crispy bacon bits, croutons, or finely chopped parsley. If you have none of the above, it doesn't matter, it's just a heavenly soup.


This week's bag is bliss, with cavolo nero, cauliflower and brussels sprouts. I'll be sure to write about them, and I'll try and borrow a camera.  

Pip pip!