Coq-au-vin, an English breakfast, and Houston TX

Coq-au-vin and English breakfast really have nothing to do with Houston TX, except that I'm blogging from the eat-out capital of the United States, and there's lots to tell. Firstly, there was SZ's birthday party, for which I made coq-au-vin, a traditional French casserole that is also a very popular party dish in England (with an entire 750ml bottle of red Burgundy in it, why not?). This recipe is again taken from Molly Steven's book, All About Braising, so if you haven't got it, why not? We ate it with some tagliatelli, which broad surface area soaked up all the juices of the red wine gravy beautifully.

Coq-au-vin

After that, it was just a mad rush of finishing work, spending time with The Parents who were in town, last minute christmas shopping, packing for Houston TX (there you go, the link at last!), and braving the freezing cold. Hats, gloves, scarves, sweaters sweaters sweaters, Uggs - all come out of the closet at last. I slept the entire flight.

Houston, Texas

The first thing I said was, it's cold here too. =( But it's gotten progressively warmer - yesterday was positively balmy. A nice break before re-entering the bracing iciness of the Mid-West next week, when we drive down to Kansas City to spend christmas with The Boy's family. The Parents are happy to be back in semi-warmth.

It's rather surreal to be in a new city that is going to be home yet is so strange, a new flat that is going to be home yet is not yet. But it's lovely to be with The Boy, and to spend time with The Parents together. I hit the road for the first time yesterday, a small Asian girl in a big big SUV driving on the "wrong" side of the road - please pray... for other drivers! So far, we've hit Central Market, The Galleria, and... er, Target. I made the Duck Ragu again on Monday evening, and it was as lovely the second time as it was the first. The best thing about oven braises (casseroles), besides the eating, must be the warm homey smells that fill the house. Mum and I have efficiently organised the entire flat and kitchen, after The Boy had admirably unpacked and tidied the entire flat entirely on his own, so I think I can legitimately call it a home home now. As you can see from the picture below, I brought my Le Creuset 5 quart oval casserole - it was quite amusing at check-in in Gatwick, I can tell you!

I have a cast iron casserole,
but no can opener!

The oven is HUGE!

English breakfast

Jetlagged, I wake up at 5am every morning, get out of bed at 6am, make coffee, read Proverbs and pray, and when The Boy wakes up, I rustle up an English breakfast for him, later The Parents when they wake up. It's been simply lovely to reclaim the mornings. Sunday we arrived and had dinner at Lupe Tortilla (The Boy's favourite Mexican), Monday we rested and had duck ragu, Tuesday I got the wheels, went shopping, and we ate at Pei Wei Asian Diner (think sweet American Chinese food) and Uptown Sushi (excellent sushi, glamorous settings but with incongruous cheapo metal chairs, scatty service), Wednesday (today) I think we're going to run errands. Tomorrow, I may take some friends' suggestions and do some touristy stuff. A little underwhelmed by Houston at the moment, and missing London. But home is where The Boy is now, and I am exceedingly glad for that.

Eats: Duck Ragu

OK. I had been dreaming about duck ragu for three days, after I came across it in Molly Steven's excellent book, which is All About Braising. There's something magical on a cold winter's day to think of a meaty stew very slowly transforming at a low temperature in the oven, the continuous convection of air and space drawing out every nuance of flavour from the meat and its aromatics. All the prettier with a bright red dutch oven to brighten a dreary day. There was duck, and onions and celery and carrots (I used thanksgiving sweet potatoes) and garlic, rosemary and allspice and bay leaves, tomatoes and chicken stock. Then there was the richness of duck skin crackling sizzling away in its own fat in the cast iron pan. The whole house smelled of the sweetness of duck ragu, and it was everything I had dreamed it would be.

Thank you, Molly, for some wonderful experiences shared. I would highly recommend her book. This would be the third braise I've done or adapted from it, the other two being beef rendang and lobak. No, fourth, including osso bucco.

Recipe: Perkedel (Indonesian potato fish cake)

No matter how hard I try, I can never get my perkedels to taste (or look) remotely like the ones made by The Makan Shop (Race Course Road, Singapore) - my favourite. "Makan" means "eat" in the Malay language. But these are pretty good still. One of my comfort foods.

RECIPE: PERKEDEL

6 potatoes, peeled and cubed
8 shallots, chopped finely
300g cod, skin removed
1 tbsp curry powder
2 eggs
flour

1. Boil potatoes until soft (approx. 20 mins). Mash.
2. Fry shallots lightly in 1 tbsp of oil for approx. 2 mins.
3. Blitz cod in the food processor.
4. Combine all ingredients in a bowl.
5. Mix in curry powder.
6. Add 1 egg to bind ingredients together.
7. Beat remaning egg. Heat a cast iron pan with a bit of oil till very hot. You can add more oil as you go along. Shape the potato fish mixture into a ball - either with hands or two spoons, dip into egg and then flour, and fry on both sides till brown spots appear and crispy (approx. 10 mins).

Other ingredients commonly added: coriander, parsley, celery (finely chopped), garlic, parsley, cumin, nutmeg. It depends on your taste. I like curry powder and coriander.

Tomorrow night, I'm going to try to prepare the remainder mixture into more perkedel balls for freezing, like fish fingers. Will report.

UPDATE
I added a huge bunch of freshly chopped coriander (leafy bit) and few pinches of salt, which dramatically improved the simple taste. Have put rest in freezer. Will report.

Beth Nielsen Chapman

BNC was performing at the Barbican tonight, and I told myself I couldn't let this chance to watch her live go by! I've been a fan of her music for the longest - I'm listening to her Sand and Water album even as I type this post. It's my fav, the album she wrote after her husband succumbed to cancer. She's (and others like her) filed under 'Girls with guitars' in my iTunes, but most sensible people would call her a singer songwriter - softer, without a Joni-Mitchellian grit, very sensitive, a poet on musical crochets. The biggest surprise tonight was that she had the London ____ Choir singing with her for two tracks! People were asking for "Emily" and "Happy Girl" for the encore - I wished I had had the courage to shout out "Fair Enough", which was the song that drew me to her at my lowest point. BNC helped me through some very dark times, and I'll never forget it.

Her new album "Prism" is out. There a particular track "Prayers of An Atheist" that has a very moving story behind it.

Eats: Pork pies and more London images

* Warning: Children might be disturbed by some images in this post. Parental guidance required. *


This is the famous Melton Mowbray pork pie. Melton Mowbray is a protected pork pie region in Leicestershire - only pork pies from that region can carry the "Melton Mowbray" name, like champange... ok, the analogy stops here. Hm, but "cheddar" isn't necessarily produced in Cheddar Gorge... I dunno.

Anyways, pork pies are like sausages encased in pastry. Not my favourite, but I was hungry in Borough Market, where I picked up duck's legs, a thick juicy sirloin, some cod, lotsa green leafy vegs, and a few bottles of olive oil as christmas presents.

Some more images from my foray to the market this morning:

Headless Santa in Borough Market

Blue men climbing a building.
You can't really see from the picture, but they are naked
and carrying musical instruments.
The top man is facing out,
and has a politely placed drum at the right spot.