A Taste of Midsummer

This unprepossessing building on the banks of the Cam is home to some of the finest cooking in Cambridge - if not the whole of East Anglia. Midsummer House, run by chef/patron Daniel Clifford, sits on the edge of Midsummer Common right in the heart of Cambridge. The restaurant was awarded its first Michelin Star in 2001, and has held two stars since 2005.

It would be a crime to have such a fine restaurant on ones doorstep and not give it a try. Still, it took me 6 months to get around to it. A visit from my friend Aaron, who travelled from Reading for the day, was the perfect excuse.

I met Aaron at the railway station and we had a brief wander around the centre of Cambridge before making our way to the restaurant. Here we were greeted by a friendly member of staff who took our coats before the maître d’ showed us to our table in the conservatory.  We were brought menus and ordered aperetifs (I had a gin and tonic).

Three different menus were on offer: a lunch menu (excellent value at £35 for 3 courses), and a choice of two tasting menus, the 6 course Taste of  the Market or the 12 course Taste of Midsummer. The lunch menu was tempting, but would have involved two decisions: which starter, and which main course? Much simpler to go for the tasting menu...

This started with a refreshing pink grapefruit and champagne foam, clearing the palate for what was to come. The first course was a white onion velouté with apple and scallions. Then a celery bavarois, a crisp beetroot tube filled with diced beetroot and an intense goat's cheese, horesradish ice cream on the side. Two courses in, and I was already thinking about coming back. But it kept getting better: sautéed scallop with truffled celeriac purée; sweetbreads with pistachio, maple syrup and mooli - contrasting flavours and textures, perfectly balanced; salt cod with pork belly and langoustine - by now I wanted to become a regular; pousse café (another palate cleanser, clearing the way for the main course); pigeon breast, sweet potato purée, cocoa nibs.

Next, a selection of artisanal cheeses from the trolley (an optional course, but how can you resist?); a light pre-dessert (lemon grass and Lady Grey); then warm kumquats with lemon thyme ice cream; finally, a tiramisu like you've never seen, with candyfloss and mascarpone ice cream.

I say finally, but we stayed on for coffee which was served with home-made chocolates and - quite unexpectedly - freshly cooked bottereaux (delicious fritters made from leavened dough - think doughnuts, only lighter) with little pots of crème Anglaise and apple compote for dipping.

Aaron wasn't drinking, but I ordered a flight of wines to accompany the tasting menu. I know next to nothing about wine, so I'm always happy to leave this to the experts. They did not disappoint: crisp, fresh whites to accompany the early courses, an earthy red with the pigeon, a citrusy dessert wine with the kumquats, and a sweet, almost treacly one to finish.

This was a very well-orchestrated meal, playful and well-balanced, with each course leading smoothly into the next. I can't think of a better way to spend a Saturday afternoon...time to start saving for my next visit.

Getting organized

I've had a busy weekend, what with friends visiting and the (rather more time consuming than I expected) task of organizing my kitchen cupboards. What would we do without stackable, air-tight plastic tubs?

baking and dried goods

flour, pasta and rice

salt, pepper and spices

hot drinks

cereal, chocolate, and baking overflow

Lunch today: the perfect soft boiled egg

After months of indecision, I finally took the plunge and bought one of these - a digital water bath that enables low temperature cooking at temperatures accurate to ±0.2℃.

The first thing I cooked was the perfect soft boiled egg. It couldn't be simpler: set the water bath to 62.5℃, wait for it to come up to temperature, gently lower in your eggs, and come back in an hour. This gives you eggs with a runny yolk and the white set just enough for it to hold its shape, smooth and creamy, without a hint of the rubberiness that comes with cooking at a higher temperature.

If you want to know more about cooking times and temperatures for eggs, see this article by Martin Lersch over at Khymos.

Chicken, ham and leek pie

I have a weekly delivery of fruit and vegetables (and eggs and milk) from Riverford Organic, and once a month or so I add one of their meat boxes to my order. These usually contain a roasting joint, bacon, sausages, cooked ham, chops or steaks for the grill, and often something to braise. While the contents varies from week to week, there is always a chicken.

This I usually portion, pan-roasting the breasts and saving the legs and thighs for a casserole or curry, or maybe even confit. The carcase, of course, is turned into stock.

I also love a simply roasted chicken, and last week The Amateur Gourmet had a great post describing Thomas Keller's roast chicken, following a recipe from Keller's "Ad Hoc at Home". It was this post by Michael Ruhlman, however, that swayed me, so I set out to make a chicken pie.

Of course, I could have roasted the chicken and used the leftovers for my pie, but I thought I would kill two birds with one stone by boiling the chicken, providing myself with a good batch of chicken stock at the same time. I first used this technique for cooking a chicken when making Fergus Henderson's Cock-a-leekie soup. (The recipe for this and Boiled chicken, leeks and aioli, which uses the same technique, can be found in his book Nose to Tail Eating).

It's really very straightforward. Slit the skin of the chicken where the thighs join the body (this allows the hot water to penetrate). Roughly chop 2 carrots, 2 onions, 2 leeks, and 2 sticks of celery, and put into a large pot along with the chicken, 2 bay leaves, and peppercorns. If you like, add some parsley stalks, a few sprigs of thyme or rosemary and a head of garlic. Cover the lot with cold water, bring slowly to the boil, then immediately remove from the heat and put a lid on the pan. Allow the chicken to cool in the stock, by which time it will be ready to be stripped from the bone into pie-sized chunks.

For a chicken and leek pie, wash and slice some leeks. Place in a pan, cover with a lid, and cook over a gentle heat for 5 minutes or so. Stir occasionally to make sure they don't catch. Now add about 30g butter and cook for another 5 minutes before adding a glass of dry white wine. Remove the lid at this point and increase the heat to reduce the wine to almost nothing. Sprinkle over 3 tablespoons of plain flour and cook, stirring constantly, for 2-3 minutes. Now gradually ladle in the hot stock, stirring after each addition until smooth. Bring to a boil and let it bubble for a minute or two, until the sauce has thickened. This quantity of flour should thicken about 600ml stock, but start off by adding about 400ml of stock and stop there if the sauce is to your liking.

Now add the chicken to the mix. I also added the ham that I had reserved from my last batch of ham stock. Warm through and check the seasoning - it will need some salt and pepper. You now have your pie filling, but let it cool a bit before using (otherwise the pastry will melt when you come to assemble it).

For the pastry, I used Ruhlman's 3-2-1 pie dough. This is just shortcrust pastry, the 3-2-1 refering to the ratio of flour (3 parts) to butter (2 parts) to water (1 part). This makes a richer shortcrust than we are used to in the UK, where a 2:1 ratio of flour to butter is more common. But just look at Ruhlman's rich, buttery pastry, and how can you resist?

The pie will want to be baked for about 40 minutes in a 200℃ oven. Oh, and don't forget to glaze with milk or egg wash for a nice finish.

As for quantities, one chicken (1.6kg), 4 medium leeks, and ham from a small hock made enough pie for 8 portions, with 2lt chicken stock left over.

Venison steak with port and damson sauce

...beetroot and orange salad, cavalo nero, and sautéed potatoes.

Granny Cook's potato soup

When I was home for Christmas, my dad described a potato soup his grandmother, Granny Cook, used to make. It was one of his favourites, warming and soothing - perfect for a winter's day. "What did she put in it?" I asked.

"She used a ham hock," he replied, "...onions, leeks, and potatoes - obviously." He remembered she added some milk, too, and served it up as a rustic broth, swimming with chunks of potato.

I set out to make my own version. Unfortunately, the local butcher had sold out of ham hocks. Instead, he provided me with some bacon trimmings. I cut these into medium dice and fried them gently in in beef dripping until they started to render their fat. To this I added an onion, a leek, and 2 sticks of celery, all finely chopped, and let them sweat, with a lid on, for 10 minutes or so. Next went in a good 500g peeled and diced potatoes, a bay leaf, 200ml milk, and enough water to cover (ham stock would be better). I brought this to a boil then let it simmer until the potatoes were tender and falling apart - about 30 minutes. Seasoned well with salt and pepper and served piping hot - not fit for a king, perhaps, but good enough to invite a neighbour to join us for supper.

I decided to give this another go when I got back to Cambridge and could get my hands on a ham hock - this is where last week's ham stock went to. I also wanted to intensify the earthy potato flavour, so cut down on the other vegetables and, following the lead of Heston Blumenthal, who cooks his potatoes in a stock made from their skins, included the potato skins in my soup. Here's the recipe I came up with.

Ray's potato soup

• 25 g butter
  
• 1 onion, finely chopped
• 1 bay leaf
• 1 kg floury potatoes, peeled and diced, skins reserved
• 1 lt ham stock 
• 300 ml whole milk
• salt and pepper

As you see, this is a soup of few ingredients. It's important to use a floury potato variety (I used King Edward), otherwise the finished soup will have an unpleasant gloopy texture.

Melt the butter and sweat the onion, without colouring, for 2-3 minutes. Add the potatoes and cook gently, with a lid on the pan, for at least 10 minutes. You will have to stir them from time to time to prevent the potatoes from sticking. Now add a bay leaf, 1tsp salt, and the stock and milk. Tie the potato skins up in muslin and add this to the pot. Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat and simmer gently until the potatoes are cooked through. Remove and discard the package of skins.

To finish, blend in a liquidizer until smooth. (In retrospect, I think simply pushing the soup through a fine sieve would result in a better texture, as it would work the starch less.) If you have ham left over from your stock-making, add this to the soup when you reheat it. Season to taste with salt and pepper.

Other ideas


For a real treat, omit the ham and serve each bowl of soup with a generous drizzle of truffle-infused olive oil.

Jane Grigson, in her Vegetable Book, gives a recipe for potato soup flavoured with lard and garlic, "...which both blend wonderfully with potato." She suggests serving this with croutons, also fried in lard and garlic. This is definitely something I'll try soon.

In Fergus Henderson's Beyond Nose to Tail, he gives a recipe for Potato and back fat soup. This recipe also plays on the pork fat and garlic theme: the soup is made with 10 cloves of garlic and topped with chunks of salted back fat rendered in a frying pan. Henderson writes: "But our possibilities do not end there. You could instead sear off a generous slice of fresh foie gras per bowl of soup, pop on top of the hot soup and give it a few minutes to do a little melting, then eat."

Who said that potato soup had to be boring?

Ham stock and what to do with it

Ham stock is cheap and easy to make, and is an excellent foundation for a number of soups. You can buy a ham hock from your local butcher for about £2, and this will be enough to make a good 2lt of stock. The ham hocks come smoked or unsmoked - I prefer the latter, as I don't like the smokey taste that is otherwise infused into the stock.

You might want to soak the ham hock overnight to remove some of the salt, but if you forget or are short of time simply place the hock in a pot, cover with cold water, and bring slowly to the boil; simmer for 5 minutes, then discard the water and start again.

For the stock itself, place the soaked ham hock in a pot along with a carrot split lengthways, a peeled and quartered onion, two bay leaves, half a dozen peppercorns and a couple of cloves (optional). A stick or two of celery and some parsley stalks are also a good idea if you have them (I didn't, so made do without). Cover with cold water, bring slowly to a boil, and simmer gently for 1 1/2 to 2 hours, skimming off any grey scum that rises to the surface. The meat will have shrunk away from the bone when it's done.

Strain the stock, reserving the meat but discarding the vegetables. Cool and refrigerate overnight, then lift off the deposits of fat that have settled on top. The stock is now ready to use in your favourite soup recipe, but take care not to over-salt: taste the stock before you begin and, if it's too salty, dilute with some water.

When the ham hock is cool enough to handle, peel off the fatty skin, then pull the chunks of meat from the bone, discarding any bits of fat as you go. The reserved meat can be added to your soup, kept for sandwiches (with a good mustard), or used in another recipe (for example, added to a quiche or a chicken and leek pie).

Some recipe ideas

Lentil soup

This is one of my favourites, and is very easy to make. Finely chop an onion and a carrot, sweat gently in butter to soften, then add red split lentils and your ham stock. Bring to a simmer and cook for 30-40 minutes, until the lentils are done. Blend until smooth, then reheat gently with some cream. Sprinkle with snipped chives and serve.

Vegetable broth

Cut a selection of vegetables into small dice (carrot, onion, swede, leek, celery - anything else you fancy). Sweat gently in melted butter, with a lid on the pan, for a good 10 minutes, then add the ham stock and cook for a further 10-15 minutes. Stir in some cooked pearl barley (if liked), and plenty of chopped fresh herbs (parsley, chives, tarragon, mint). Delicious served with fresh, crusty bread.

Pea and ham velouté

Sweat a finely-chopped onion in melted butter until it is soft but not coloured. Sprinkle over plain flour and cook, stirring continuously, until it is a sandy texture. Gradually ladle in the hot stock, whisking until smooth after each addition. Bring to a boil and simmer for 2-3 minutes, until the mixture thickens slightly. Now add green peas (frozen peas work well with this, but let them defrost first), and simmer until the peas are done. Liquidise until smooth. This is nice with minted cream: whisk together double cream with fresh, chopped mint leaves, a squeeze of lemon juice, and salt and pepper; spoon a dollop into the centre of each bowl just before taking them to the table.

Turnip bake

This is a simple recipe from Fergus Henderson's "Nose to Tail Eating". The turnips here are small and white-fleshed, not the larger orange-fleshed swedes that  are known as turnips in Scotland and the north of England.

Thinly slice an onion and fry gently, without colouring, in a generous amount of melted butter. Meanwhile, peel and thinly slice your turnips - a mandoline is good for this if you have one to hand. Liberally butter a shallow oven-proof dish, and layer in the turnip and onion, seasoning with salt and pepper as you go. Start and finish with a layer of turnip. Dot the top with butter, cover closely with aluminium foil, and bake for about 1 hour in a 200℃ oven. The temperature and cooking time can be varied to fit around other things happening in your kitchen, just probe with a fork to make sure it's done to your liking.

Henderson says that this calls out to be eaten with roast lamb, but it also went very well with my venison stew. I would say it was "surprisingly good", but I know enough not to be surprised by one of Henderson's recipes: he has yet to disappoint.

Science and magic

There's a great article in today's Guardian Science Blog, The science and magic of cheesemaking, by Dr Andy Connelly of the University of Sheffield. Digging around in the archives turns up another of his articles, The science and magic of breadmaking, published back in November. Recommended reading, both.

Pork meatballs with rosemary, lemon, and fennel

Here's the recipe for the pork meatballs mentioned in my last post. These are inspired by a recipe for Pork and Lemon Polpettine that you will find in
Nigel Slater's "Kitchen Diaries". Slater flavours his with lemon, thyme and parsley, but I adapted the recipe to use ingredients I had to hand. I have also used a lower proportion of breadcrumbs: just enough to bind - rather than bulk up - the meat. I like to serve these with spaghetti tossed in a quick sauce made by deglazing the pan with wine.

New year, new blog...

I'm not one for new year's resolutions, but I've been thinking for some time about starting a blog and what better excuse than the start of a new year? This blog will be about food: what's happening in my kitchen; photos and recipes; notable meals out; maybe the occasional book review. I'm aiming (it's not a resolution, remember) for at least one post a week.

After the excesses of the holidays, it has been a frugal start to the year. I returned yesterday from visiting family in Northumberland to a flat that had been empty for 10 days. Waitrose won't be delivering until tomorrow, so I had to make do with what I could find in the freezer and cupboards.

I had saved some tomato sauce (leftover from pizza) in the freezer, and this formed the basis for last night's supper.  The sauce defrosts over a gentle heat while water boils on the stove for pasta. Just before the pasta is done, add chilli flakes, anchovies, olives and capers. Toss with the cooked pasta, grated parmesan, and a good grind of black pepper, and you have that store-cupboard standby: pasta puttanesca.

While I was rummaging in the freezer, I found a tub of pumpkin soup and a quarter loaf of sourdough: lunch today. I also dug out minced pork (leftover from a stuffed chicken leg dish) and breadcrumbs. Dinner tonight will be pork meatballs with spaghetti. I usually make these with fresh thyme, following a recipe from
Nigel Slater's "Kitchen Diaries" but the thyme has not taken kindly to the cold weather. Instead, I'll flavour them with rosemary, fennel seeds and lemon (the solitary lemon found in the bottom of the fridge).

The fridge also harboured a block of butter past its use by date. Rather than see it go to waste, this was put to good use in a batch of dark chocolate cookies. Sometimes, making do is not so bad.