Sunday Suppers

Sunday is my favourite day of the week, and it holds a very special place in my heart.  It's the one day of the week I feel like waking up late is justified, barely leaving the house it also completely justified, and eating far too much is pretty much mandatory.  This is the day where I get most joy out of cooking, I think, because I know that nothing special is needed.  On a Sunday, I don't think that anyone wants to eat anything too adventurous, but instead, something soothing.  What I want to eat on a Sunday is something that's going to help me recover from the weekend, fill my belly and send me to sleep.  Those Sunday suppers are an incredible treat, because I feel like rarely is eating so leisurely.  There's no rush, there's nowhere we need to head off to, except perhaps to watch the killing recorded from Saturday night, and a big meal in the early evening is the very best way to fortify yourself for the week ahead, and this is one of my favourite menus for such an evening.

Fish Pie

for four

500g smoked haddock

500g mixed seafood, cooked

a splash of white wine

2 bay leaves

500ml whole milk

50g butter

four tablespoons of plain flour

a handful of parsley, chopped

700g floury potatoes, peeled and in chunks.

some milk and butter

Heat the oven to 200°c.

Put the smoked haddock in a saucepan with the milk and bay leaves.  If the fish isn't covered, add some water until it is.  Simmer for a few minutes, until you can pull the flesh from the skin.  Take off the heat.

Cook the potatoes in a deep pan of salted water.  Simmer them until tender, drain in a colander and leave to steam for a good few minutes.  Mash with plenty of butter and a few tablespoons of the haddock cooking liquor.

Melt the 50g of butter in a big pan, stir in the flour and let it cook until it is slightly brown and nutty.  Add the wine and 500ml of the haddock cooking liquor.  Let it simmer, stirring regularly, for around ten minutes, until it coats the back of a spoon and doesn't taste floury.

Skin the haddock and add to the sauce with the seafood and the parsley.  Season with pepper and salt if it needs any.

Spoon into a oven proof dish, or a pie dish, or a big casserole pot, and layer the mash on top.

Bake for about fifty minutes, and serve with peas.

Apple Tart

enough for six

a 340g sheet of puff pastry

four apples, granny smith work well

a knob of butter, melted

a few spoonfuls of caster sugar

Heat the oven to 200°c.

Roll the pastry until it is really thin and use it to line a tart tin with a removable base.  Prick the bottom all over with a fork.

Peel and core the apples, then slice them thinly.  Lay them in concentric circles on the pastry.  Brush them all over with the melted butter and sprinkle them the sugar.

Bake for twenty minutes and serve, cream or ice cream is always good with this.

It's not autumn yet

Towards the end of august, there’s a strange thing that happens that happens in my mind.  There’s a fear that every sunny day will be the last sunny day, so all of a sudden I have to do all the summer things I can think of.  Sitting on the grass in the sun, picnicking, barbequing, Pimm’s.  I’ve been doing these wholeheartedly for the past couple of weeks, and every time, thinking, perhaps this is the last time I’ll be able to for a whole year.  And they have been really good, because the threat of imminent autumn makes them all the more special.  I do love autumn, and I definitely can’t wait for a bit of a chill on the breeze, but that doesn’t mean I want to let summer slip by without one last barbeque.

So at home in Bristol, there was some sun.  Of course, that sun was often mingled with showers, but there was definitely sun, and so the fire pit was fuelled, the paella pan dusted off, and supper was cooked, and eaten, outside.  We ignored the occasional raindrops, and the fact that it was so cold we’d also lit a fire inside. We ate, as if it were a Mediterranean sun that shone, rather than the feeble, end of summer glow that there really was.

I’ve always enjoyed a paella, but this was my first time cooking it.  I was nervous, but towards the end of an hour or so perusing the Moro cookbooks, the guardian website, and some Simone and Ines Ortega cookbooks, I think I got the main idea: just chose the things you like and make sure everything is cooked.  So we had monkfish and chicken and prawns and squid, with a few chunks of chorizo thrown in.  I still wasn’t feeling hugely confident with it all, so I cooked a starter of clams with ham and sherry, just to get the cooking underway, and to placate my hungry family, because I wasn’t sure how long it would take to cook on the fire.

Al in all, it wasn’t perfect.  It cooked very very slowly, and by the time I impatiently took it off, it was still just a tiny bit wet.  Everything was cooked though, which is always nice, and the rice was pretty good.  There was only the merest hint of the socarrat that, I am told, is the sign of a great paella, but it was really tasty.  For a first attempt, I was proud of how it all turned out.  Sure, there were some things that could’ve been better, but, looking at the rain today, it looks like we won’t be eating another paella till next year.

Clams with ham and sherry

for four

700g clams

3 cloves of garlic, finely chopped

2 shallots, finely chopped

500g serrano ham, diced

a big glass of fino

handful of chopped parsley

In a big pan, one that has a lid, over a medium heat, cook the onion in a little olive oil for around three minutes, before adding the garlic.

After another three minutes, toss in the ham and leave, stirring occasionally, until the onion is cooked.

Turn the heat up, and when the pan is hot, throw in the sherry followed by the clams.

Put the lid on, give the pan a shake, and leave for two to three minutes until the clams open.  Apparently Banging the pan with a wooden spoon makes the clams open quicker to ensure they're not overcooked.  I tried it, and I don't know if it made a difference, apart from some strange looks from my family.

Sprinkle over a big handful of chopped parsley and serve with some bread for dunking.

Paella

for four - six, depending on hunger

300g boned chicken thighs, cubed into about 2cm cubes

one fillet of monkfish, cubed into about 2cm cubes

one squid tube, sliced into rings

200g chorizo, in chunks

eight raw prawns, in their shells (or some shells you might have reserved for such an occasion)

250g paella rice, I used Bomba

one litre chicken stock

a big glass of white wine

four cloves of garlic

one and a half big spanish onions

one green pepper, cubed

pinch of saffron

parsley

two lemons, cut into wedges

Bring the stock to the boil, add prawns and leave them to cook in the stock (or just throw in the shells).  When they're cooked, throw in the saffron and leave to infuse whilst you get on with the chopping.

In a big pan with some olive oil, saute the chicken, until very nearly cooked, then take it out.  Do the same with the monkfish, and then the chorizo.

In the same pan, gently cook the onion and garlic until very soft.  Add the cubed green pepper.

Turn up the heat, and add the rice.  Fry for a minute, stirring to coat with oil, before adding the wine.  After the wine has bubbled down a bit, Take the prawns out of the stock and pour it over.

Leave to cook until there's only a little bit of liquid covering the rice, then bury all of the almost cooked chicken, monkfish, chorizo and the raw squid in the rice.  Then lay the prawns on top. It should take about seven to ten minutes to finish off.  

Take it off the heat when everything looks as you imagine a paella should look, and leave to stand for about five minutes.

Sprinkle over lots of chopped parsley and arrange the lemon wedges around the edge in the manner of a 70s cookbook.  Serve.