Linguine Alla 'Damn, That's GOOD'

The more observant of you may have noticed that I tend to cook the same way I write - chucking things around until something comes out that seems about right. 

And that's a great way of cooking, because you get the idea of a taste in your head and put things in a pan, and people eat it - and mostly it's a good result. But it does have its downside - it means that the recipes are a bit like dreams. Once they're done, and the plate is empty in front of me I can't remember the absolute specifics of what I did - which makes replicating it for Gotham Girl a touch difficult. 

But this time, with the lemon, garlic, fish and chilli flavours still fresh and bursting on my tongue, I resolved to write it down straight away. THIS, dear reader, is one that I wish to repeat - and so should you. 

There aren't any esoteric ingredients - it's store-cupboard stuff - but the prep, while not complicated, has more steps than my normal 'chuck stuff around' method, for which I apologise. But once you try this pasta dish you'll realise that the extra prep and washing-up (unless, like me, you're lucky enough to have someone to do it for you) was totally worthwhile. And your mouth will be smiling and singing with the flavours all the way through the cleanup. 

Linguine alla 'Damn, That's GOOD'

250-odd grams of Sainsburys* Lightly-Smoked Salmon fillets;

220g of small shelled prawns;

Juice and zest of 1 lemon;

5 cloves of garlic;

A third of a pat of slightly salted butter, cut into four chunks;

200-odd grams of dried linguine;

A small pinch of dried chilli flakes, dependent on how much kick you want;

a double pub measure of vodka;

Salt

Freshly ground black pepper

Phase 1: Prep

Seriously, don't skip this phase and try to do stuff on the fly. This is one of those times when it's best to get everything prepared before you start, as there's going to be a lot happening. 

Take the prawns from their pack, drain them, then gently dry them between a half-dozen sheets of kitchen paper. 

Zest the whole lemon, and chop the zest finely, then cut the lemon in half. You'll be using each half at different times. 

Finely chop three cloves of garlic, and pop them in a heavy-based sauté pan with half the butter, half the lemon zest and the pinch of chilli flakes. Melt the butter over a low heat and allow all the flavours to infuse together without allowing the butter to fizz or burn. 

FInely chop the remaining garlic and mix it with the remaining lemon zest.

Fill a LARGE pasta pan with water, add salt and put on a high heat.

Phase 2: Prawns Part One

Turn the heat up under your sauté pan, and as the butter starts to foam throw in your prawns. Toss them in the scented butter, getting them coated and covered. Squeeze half the lemon into the pan.They'll start to cook fast, but they won't colour much as they'll exude liquid (this is a good thing) and start to boil a little. Give them about three minutes, then take the pan off the heat and strain the cooking liquid off, through a sieve, into a suitable receptacle. Put the prawns back into the pan and return to the heat. 

Phase 3: Prawns Part Two

Act fast here! Grab your double measure of vodka and pour it into the pan. If you're confident (and competent) to do so, light the vodka on the gas and flambé the alcohol off - there's quite a lot in there so it takes a while. Keep the pan moving around to free up pockets of alcohol and stop the prawns burning. If, on the other hand, you're the sort of person who writes blog comments in crayon or who still has to use safety scissors, either let the alcohol steam off naturally (or get your Mum to do this bit). 

Once the flames are gone, you'll have a little bit of prawny liqueur in the bottom of the pan - strain this through a sieve into the liqueur from Phase 2. Set the prawns aside - I leave them in their pan, off the heat, and grab another one for Phase 4. You'll be back to them soon enough.

Phase 4: The Salmon

Still with me? Good. I promise it's worth it - if you doubt me, just taste a prawn and have a teensy taste of that butter sauce you've just made with the cooking liqueurs, and keep going!

Pop your next pan on a medium-low heat, and add half the remaining butter. As soon as it's melted, carefully add your salmon fillets and cook for 5-7 minutes until they're cooked just over half-way through, then turn (carefully) and cook for another three minutes. Don't let them burn or dry out - remember, they'll have more cooking later. 

Clockwise from front left: the lemon butter sauce, the prepped prawns, the pasta pan and the cooking salmon.

Remove the salmon to a plate, and THROW AWAY the butter you cooked it in. Don't be tempted to add it to your butter sauce - it'll be overcooked and taste burned. 

With a couple of forks, gently flake the salmon into large chunks and add them into the cool pan with the prawns. Stir them together gently. 

Phase 5: Pasta Time

Easy. The water will be boiling now - take your linguine, put it into the pasta pot and gently stir so it's under the surface. Set your timer for about 7 minutes. 

Phase 6: Bringing it together!

Right - you've got seven minutes before you eat, and I guarantee by now you'll be salivating. So it's time for the final steps. 

Put the pan containing the prawns and salmon over a medium heat and add the remaining butter, garlic and lemon zest.  As the butter melts, GENTLY turn the seafood over in the mix, allowing it all to reheat and cook. Be as gentle as you can, as you don't want to break up the fish flakes too much. 

Gently with the prawns and salmon.... 

Pour in the reserved liqueur, add a good grind of black pepper, and squeeze over the remaining half lemon, and let it bubble for a couple of minutes, moving the seafood GENTLY around the pan. 

As soon as the timer goes off, turn off the heat under both pans and drain your pasta, returning it to the big pasta pan. Tip your seafood and sauce over the pasta and GENTLY turn them together, coating the pasta in the lemony butter and mixing the seafood through it. 

Serve in big bowls. 

*Other supermarket chains are available.

Chicken a la Fridge-Clearout

Sometimes you've just got to clear out what's in the fridge.


Here at Transatlantic Towers, there are frequently small amounts of stuff left-over from previous meals - not so much cooked stuff, which tends to be eaten for lunch the following day, but the veggies from a bag that was just too big for two people, the leftover lardons from a previous recipe and various other bits. And rather than throw them out, it's better to use them when you can.

So last night was one of those nights - chuck stuff at a pan and make it work.

It occurred to me afterward that it was similar to Nigella Lawson's 'Coq Au Riesling' recipe, but with the addition of some asparagus I had in the fridge.

I would've taken some photos, but there was no time - it tasted SO good that Gotham Gal and I inhaled it long before I could reach for the camera! Therefore, this isn't so much a recipe as a breakdown of what was lurking in the fridge, and how we used that to make something that turned out very, very good indeed.

Chicken a la Fridge-Clearout

500g chicken thighs and breast, chopped into smallish chunks;
Bacon lardons;
A handful of closed-cup mushrooms
A handful of asparagus spears;
1 largish onion;
4 cloves of garlic;
White wine;
Single cream*;
A big handful of fresh tarragon, finely-chopped;
Salt & pepper (of course).

Pop a large, heavy-based saucepan onto a low heat and pour in a small slug of vegetable oil. Finely chop the onion and garlic and pop them in the pan to sweat down.

After a couple of minutes, once they're starting to sweat, throw in your lardons and let them start to render down a bit.

 Take the tips off the garlic spears and set aside. Chop the top half of the stalk into small chunks, and throw them in the pot. Throw away the woody lower part.

 Finely slice half a dozen mushrooms and put them in as well. Stir everything around in the bacon fat that's starting to exude.

Once everything's sweated nicely and the onions are translucent, throw in about two-thirds of the chopped tarragon, add the chicken and turn up the heat to medium. You're not trying to fry it off, just colour it a bit. Let it all cook for five or ten minutes, swooshing it around occasionally, until the chicken is white overall.

 Turn the heat up to high and after about two minutes, chuck in a glass or so of white wine and stir, then once the alcohol has cooked off turn the heat back down to low and leave it for a minute or two.

Slowly add the single cream, stirring all the time.

Turn up the heat a little, until the sauce is just bubbling occasionally, and cook uncovered until the chicken is cooked through and the sauce reduced to a nice thick consistency.

 Five minutes or so before you plan to eat, taste and add seasoning (you probably won't need more salt) and add the asparagus tips, a couple more sliced mushrooms and the last of the tarragon and stir well.

Serve with something mashy to soak up the sauce, and some lightly-cooked green beans to add texture.

Then go and buy some more stuff to refill the fridge for next time!


*note: the cream wasn't 'lurking in the fridge, but bought fresh. Don't mess about with leftover dairy products! 

I Can Haz Cheezeburger?

So there have been many changes in The Life Of Dungeekin in recent months, including marriage (thanks in large part to a roast chicken recipe) and moving to Transatlantic Towers, our new family home. And it has a MUCH larger kitchen than Vitriol Towers ever did, which has meant much more space for ingredients - and better still, much more space for experimentation.

 That experimentation has recently been focused on the dark art of the cheeseburger. Having uprooted Greater Gotham Gal from the burger-rich hunting grounds of the Upper East Side to the drizzling, McDonalds-dominated wasteland of Oxfordshire, it was essential that I got the hang of cheeseburgers. If you've ever been to NYC and eaten at JG Melon, Shake Shack or any of the other dedicated burger places in the city, you'll understand how what we Brits think of as a dry, bland alternative to an M&S sandwich is, over there, a juicy*, flavoursome thing of wonder from beef to bun.

And you know what? Recreating that proved to be bloody difficult. Attempt after attempt came up short, with mushy meat, disintegrating burgers or charred exteriors concealing raw mince inside. Thankfully the majority of these experiments were done while GGG was still in the States, so I was spared the disapproval of a cheeseburger connoisseur. It became clear that the trick is to keep the meat as cool as possible and be as gentle as possible putting it together. I can't stress those points enough - cool and gentle, cool and gentle!

But now, I think I've finally come up with the recipe and cooking method that works and will give that proper New York cheeseburger experience at home.

Cheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeseburgers  

Preparation (makes two burgers):
500 grams of GOOD steak mince. Don't get 'extra-lean', as you need some fat;
2 good burger buns. If you've a baker and can find a range, all the better. Supermarket 'baps' are often too dry and break up;
'American' processed-cheese slices (these are the canonical burger cheese, substitute your preference if you wish;
2 rashers of streaky bacon;
Granulated onion;
TABLE salt (one of the rare occasions when I don't use Maldon Sea Salt);
Black pepper.

Take the mince from its pack, and put into a large bowl. Gently run your fingers through it to separate it all out, then pop it back into the fridge to cool back down.

After 30-odd minutes chilling, take the mince and add granulated onion, salt and black pepper to taste, gently mixing it through with your fingers. Don't be too harsh or use utensils, as that will over-work the meat and make it go sloppy and clump. I use granulated onion to get a good flavour without compromising 'structural integrity' - even fine-chopped onion has a tendency to make the burgers fall apart during cooking. Granulated onion and table salt also work better as they can be worked more fully through the meat than sea salt and chopped onion, so you get completely even seasoning.

Place the seasoned meat back in the fridge for another 20 minutes or so, to recover from your ministrations.

 Once it's cooled again, separate the meat into 4 equal portions. Roll them (gently) into balls, then slowly flatten them out until they're about 1/2" thick at the edge, with a bit of an indentation in the middle of each one.

Take two slices of American cheese, and fold each in half twice. Place them into the indentations on two of your patties. Take the two patties without cheese and gently place them, indentation-side down, on top of the two with cheese on, creating a beef'n'cheese sandwich. Gently (note how everything has to be gentle!) squeeze the edges together to make a partial seal. Back into the fridge - Don't cover or wrap them, as that seems to make them sweat a bit and go mushy - and leave them there for a good couple of hours.

 Cooking:

 Take two frying pans - one with a lid, and one without. Put a small amount of oil in the pan with the lid, and wipe it around the pan, then put the pan on a low heat. Keep the other pan to one side - that one will be getting HOT later.

Gently put the burgers into the oiled pan, and put the lid on. The object here is not to fry them, as they'll fall apart. Instead, let them steam gently in their own juices. It takes a lot longer to cook them this way but they stay together and retain much more moisture. They can take as long as 25-30 minutes to cook, gently turning once or twice. They won't take on much colour, but you will know they're cooking from the sound and smell.

Heat the other frying pan, without oil this time, and get it nice and hot. Cut the bacon rashers in half, and put them in the hot pan to cook until crispy, then remove and keep in a warm oven. Wipe out any excess bacon fat, and put the pan back on the heat.

Prepare your buns with any dressings you want to add, but don't go overboard as the moisture from the burger and dressings will cause the bun to collapse. Toast the bun if you wish, but I've never found that works for me.

When the cheese in the middle of the burgers starts to leak from the edges, you're ready to go. Remove them from the pan, and finish with 30 seconds per side in your hot frying pan to colour them up.

Place your burger on the bottom of the bun, add another slice of cheese on top (to help it all stick together), pop two half-rashers of bacon on top of that and top with the bun.

Eat. Don't forget napkins!


 *This is in no small part due to being able to choose how done your burger is, whereas here they tend to be served one way only - overdone - and even in places like GBK it can be a struggle to persuade them to cook your burger medium. Dang 'Health & Safety' rules.