Cassoulet to cry for!

I remember (even if somewhat hazily and distorted) when I was a teenager and became big enough to drink adult disapproved beverages whenever said adults weren't looking, that in those blissful times pretty much anything would do. I mean, if the party was well on it's way but the supplied fuel was running out, there were simply far more important issues than being fussy. If only there was an open 24/7 shop within a crawling distance an expedition would be assembled (usually consisting of a group of growling creatures tied together like a bundled hay to keep them vertical-ish), the last financial resources would be scraped out of the bottom of the pockets very tight indeed (how could any of us fit in those stupid jeans?) and after some sympathetic cheering from a balcony or window the human centipede would sway away and then back bringing a hefty serving of whatever was cheapest.

Youth... Never bloody again!

But then things begin to change. People grow up (or at least get older), mature (some like good wine, some like bad cheddar) and generally there's a fine chance that they start develop something of a taste. It's not something we can direct in any way, it's not anything we can influence, it is more like a gravity, that makes a cloud of dust start to revolve slowly and get closer and closer together until it forms something more substantial. And that's what happens to us as well. From the bottomless abyss of 'whatevah'-ness when it comes to drinking, suddenly we realize we've got preferences. That we prefer full-bodied red to any other and white is a no-go altogether. That whisky is better than brandy. Or other way round. That Żywiec is the best continental lager ever. And so on... Now. What all this have to do with cooking? Very little in fact, but elaborate entry always makes for interesting reading, n'est-ce pas?

Anyway, not all is lost as there is actually a tiny line of thought in this gibberish capable of taking us to cooking. Just as that stormy youth takes us all over the place without any direction, sense or purpose so are our beginner's steps in the kitchen. We try whatever comes our way just because it's new, because there's no context to it and in all our inexperience we simply have no idea what we like and what we wouldn't. It takes years and a few culinary trips around the world in 80 dishes to start appreciate some ingredients more than others, develop a particular liking for some flavours and feel more comfortable with Mediterranean cuisine than Chinese or any other way round. We grow up and mature in our preferences and without realising become specialists in some areas. Me, personally, I've just had a look back at my cook-record and can see clearly one thing - I'm a stew man! (An official, caped outfit and modus operandi yet to be confirmed...) There's simply nothing better than a generous helping of food that seems to outstretch its arms and cuddle you. A good stew is like a hot bath after taking the bus from town in December. It's like a soft and woolly blanket when you can hear outside your window how the gale and rain try to kill everything that's vertical. It's like a smile, like a goose-feather pillow, like hearing 'well done, young man' when you're five, like a knee-long jumper, like anything else in this world that gives you that warm and guilt-free sense of happiness. Is good for you because it makes you feel good and that's all you need to know.

So... if you ever wondered how to get there, here's a recipe that's just as good as Willy Wonka's golden ticket. We're going to need a couple of things and preferably a few hours for all the goodness to creep in. The dish is based on a traditional French cassoulet but with some adjustments for that little touch of originality. We'll need:

- pork (pork belly, Polish boczek, pork ribs, pork tenderloin etc., see details below)
- large onion
- white wine
- a couple of tomatoes
- tinned beans (of choice, but I recommend butter beans or any other large beans)
- red pepper (optional)
- some mushrooms (optional)
- seasoning and herbs (salt, pepper, marjoram, rosemary, bay leaves, allspice)

The choice of meat is crucial as it's going to influence the flavour of the whole dish but at the same time is fully open to personal preferences. I strongly recommend the pork belly/ribs/boczek trinity but if you prefer leaner option there's always tenderloin, shoulder or leg. Avoid loin though (traditional pork chops) as it's likely to end up very dry and there wouldn't be that much flavour to give to the stew. The cooking might take some time, but it's absolutely dead simple. Start traditionally with chopped onion and fry it with a little bit of mild olive oil (not the extra virgin one!). It'd be best if you had a casserole dish or at least a heavy bottom cooking pan so you can just carry on adding things into the same pot. When onions start getting transparent and soft add the rest of the vegetables and cook under cover for about 20 minutes until everything starts to mix together. Then add your meat (in full pieces, we'll be cutting it once it's cooked. Remember to keep the skin on the belly pork as well!), wine and herbs. Do not add salt as you might not need it at all in the end. Cover the pot, reduce fire to minimum and go and read War and Peace. You won't have to come back to the kitchen until she dies in the end.

...several chapters later...

When the smell makes your stomach try to jump out you're permitted to go and have a look. If the meat is cooked, take it out and cool it down on a side. You can loose the skin from the belly pork now and get rid of the bones from the ribs. They've given your stew all their flavours by now and are free to go. The rest of the meat cut in sizeable bits and return to the stew. Time to prepare boczek. You can find it in supermarkets but if not, use pancetta. Boczek is simply a belly pork that's cured and smoked and once you've tried it once you'll never stop salivating over it. Ever.

Ever.

The best way to handle it for this recipe is to chop or dice it very finely (you'll only need a couple of handfuls) and pre-fry in a frying pan until it's crispy. Add to the stew with all the fat that melted out. The boczek is very salty itself so that's why you need to be very careful about adding any so wait with that until you're ready to serve. At this point add also the beans and carry on cooking until your neighbours come knocking on your door with spoons and soup bowls ready. Let them have some only if they've always been very nice to you. But very nice. I mean, proper, very nice. And if they ever ask you for a recipe, tell them, that it was revealed to you by an very old French lady from just outside Toulouse on her deathbed and that a terrible curse would fall upon your head if you'd ever reveal her secret to anyone. They'll fall for it, promise.

are-you-taking-the-piss pasta

Cooking... An ethernal battle with the elements - fire, water, jar lids. An epic struggle between the spirit and the matter. Between a man and his overgrown ambitions. Between griddle- and the saucepan. Between Chinese and Italian. Let's face it - cooking is not for the faint hearted, limp-wristed, nor Mac owners. It's for men and that means men with the persistence of Icelandic fishermen, desperation of Ukrainian coal miners, precision of Audi engineers, balance of a ninja on a bamboo straw, palette (it would almost work if it wasn't in the writting, this one...) of Renoir, gadget know-how of Desmond Llewelyn and the apparition of George Clooney.

Men who take the task at hand seriously, who would rather loose a limb than let the imperfection slip in, who never joke about rotten eggs (there are things you simply DO NOT joke about) and who think that science is a younger, demented brother of chef-istry.

Men like us.

And that's why I called this recipe 'are-you-taking-the-piss pasta'. Because you simply take some fresh or dry, wide and flat pasta (tagliatelle or pappardelle), onion, mushrooms, sour cream and some parsley and cook it in a simplest way possible.

Dice onions, slice mushrooms and cook under cover until soft, pour the cream in and cook untill reduced, add salt/lemon juice/a wee bit of white wine and black pepper, chopped parlsey and hot, cooked pasta. Stir well and serve. All done in 15 minutes. That's less than picking up the phone, ordering a take away and delivery time. 

I know... not that manly after all. But so bloody good! And remember to put a little bit of duck fat in or otherwise people are gonna thing you're some sort of vegetarian.

And here's the result:

pathetically plain recipe for Penne Pomodoro

Aahh... Pasta! Good old student’s food. Well, I wouldn’t know I’ve stayed with my parents throughout my university period and had my mom cooking :) But I’ve heard stories. And dreadful ones, I kid you not. So, horrors aside, what can be done for a pasta to rectify its not-so-glamorous name? Well... easy :) Here’s a dish that will not make you break the sweat but you’d still be able to impress many a woman/man should you desire so. Impress in vain though as it comes with unholly amounts of garlic :>
So, what we need is:

- penne pasta
- olive oil
- fresh cherry or plum tomatoes
- garlic
- optionally some chilli flakes and/or parmesan cheese

Start with cooking your pasta, and when it’s ready pour over cold water (to cool it down and stop cooking) and set aside. Now halve or quarter your tomatoes and finely chop some garlic (at least 2 cloves per portion :> ). When these are ready heat up some oil in wok (best) or deep frying pan and add tomatoes. Be careful, it’s gonna splash hot oil all over! When tomatoes start letting the juice out and go visibly soft add your garlic and stir for about 2 minutes. If you’re using it then it’s a good time to put in chilli flakes as well (or chilli oil for that matter...). And then just add the pasta, cook until hot. At this point the dish is ready to serve but if you’re not convinced that this is sophisticated enough and are desperate to add a little something that would make all the difference then invest in some shaved parmesan (looks better than grated) and fresh basil or wild rocket. Serve with wine and odour killing candles...

desperate pork in oriental disguise

Things started to get desperate when I decided to do something more of an extraordinary without planning an appropriate shopping first. So there I was with:

• - one tenderloin of pork
  
• - handful of small mushrooms
  
• - cherry tomatoes
  
• - two carrots
  
• - red onion
  
• - asparagus
  

The whole original idea was pretty much about tossing it all into a wok, adding some rice and cooking until bored. And that’s why I went desperate.

This called for some desperate measures.

First, I’ve decided to marinade my pork a little bit in something that turned out to be a slightly Frankenstein-ish all-oriental sauce. I’ve added:

• - honey
  
• - mustard (the best one is from IKEA food shop!)
  
• - sweet chilli sauce
  
• - tiny bit of Heinz ketchup
  
• - soy sauce
  
• - a bit of Vegeta seasoning
  
• - a bit of Maggi
  
• - a bit of Morrisons’ thai wok oil
  
• - a bit of Morrisons’ sechuan wok oil
  
• - ...and maybe some things I can’t remember anymore
  

Anyway, the ingredients for this marinade were absolutely incidental (happened to be passing by when I was frantically roaming round the kitchen in hopeless search for inspiration) and should only be treated as guidance. After all it’s just one of those dishes that happen to happen out of nowhere and which we can never do again because we couldn’t be bothered to write down what we’ve had used in a first place. So here it is, a first timer. 

So, as for preparation, nothing easier than that. First, cut the meat into very thin slices or little stripes and mix well with the marinade, then set aside. Pretend you’ve lost interest, act inconspicuous, let it rest in pieces. It’ll fry happier.

Now chop the onion into recognisable bits, half- or just slice carrot(s), quarter the mushrooms and chop asparagus (say into 3-4 cm bits). Into the wok the whole lot, with a little bit of added water and under a cover. On a rather little fire. Start preparing (or prepare it earlier altogether) your rice. Time to go back to the pork (the longer it marinades the better but there’s no need to go over the top either :) All it needs is to be put in a little bit of flour and deep (or half deep) fried in some nice oil i.e. grape seed or sunflower. Avoid the nasty regular vegetable oil, the one which can be used after cooking for fuelling diesel engines. It may be a wonderful way of recycling but somehow does not wet my appetite much. 

Oh, and it gives you cancer as well.

Once fried, drain the meat on a paper kitchen towel and go back to you rice and veg. When they cooked but still crunchy add halved cherry tomatoes (plum as good, or just normal ones chopped) and cook for another 3-5 min and then stir in the rice. Keep on low fire until sure that everything is well mixed and hot, turn the heat off and add the pork (which should be covered in a nice, crunchy batter). Mix and serve. I’ve added as well a handful of wild rocket leaves and some fresh coriander but that’s (as everything else in this dish) is purely optional. Just remember not to cook your greens and fresh herbs since in heat they lose flavour faster than Gordon Ramsay patience.

At which point I must warn you – it’s not a looker, but then again it’s quick, not expensive, dead simple and quite not bad after all :)

(I mean the dish, not Gordon...)

Bon apetito!