Wal-Slaw and PFC

 

Whilst to some of my younger readers this will clearly mark me out as some sort of antediluvian anachronism, I can actually remember a Britain before McDonalds. The golden arches didn’t make it to our sceptred isle until 1974, fully 6 years after I first landed, and it would be many years more before Ronald showed his face in the provincial backwater that was my childhood home.

Colonel Sanders on the other hand was quicker off the mark and KFC opened its first UK outlet in Preston in 1965. I don’t think the one I remember, a roadhouse style takeaway on Preston New Road, was the ground-breaker but it seemed always to have been there. We didn’t use it often – it was enough of a drive for the food to get cold before we got home, and being ‘foreign’ was clearly not intended for everyday consumption – but it was my first real introduction to the then exotic world of the fast food takeaway.

Perhaps because of this childhood association fried chicken still holds a special place in my arteries, and is one of the few fast food staples that I might still crave before 2:00 a.m. and whilst stone cold sober. The colonel’s spice mix is of course as secret as the recipe for Coca Cola [apparently not even the factories who make it know the exact proportions, which I would have thought could prove to be a tad awkward, manufacturing-wise?] but it’s not actually that difficult to cook up a reasonable facsimile at home. Many of the myriad American recipes available online use frankly frightening amounts of MSG but even if this did figure in the Colonel’s own mysterious mix you don’t need it. Plenty of good old fashioned salt and pepper does the trick.

Of course you can’t have fried chicken without some sort of slaw. When making this I had crunchy celery and apple to hand [as in a Waldorf Salad] and hey presto, Wal-Slaw was born! The sweet-corn is another classic fried chicken accompaniment so into the salad it went. A buttered baked potato finished off the finger lickin’ feast.

Wal-Slaw

• Half a small red cabbage, finely shredded
• Half an apple, diced
• A shallot, finely diced
• One carrot, grated
• A small tin of sweet-corn kernels (not Colonels!)
• Two sticks of celery, finely sliced
• The juice of half a lemon
• A splash of malt vinegar
• Sufficient mayonnaise to bind

First dice the apple and toss in the lemon juice and vinegar. Then just throw everything else in and stir in the mayonnaise to your liking. Season and chill.

Philip’s Fried Chicken [PFC]

• 6 chicken thighs, bone in and skin on
• 4 tbsps plain flour
• 1 soupspoon cornflour [optional]
• 2 medium eggs, beaten
• 2 tsps salt
• 2 tsps ground black pepper
• 1 tsp paprika
• 1/2 tsp garlic powder
• 1/2 tsp celery salt
• 1/2 tsp dried thyme
• 1/2 tsp dried oregano
• 1/2 tsp cayenne pepper
• 1 stick of celery broken into four [optional]
• Vegetable oil for frying

Soak the chicken thighs in the beaten egg and allow them to wallow for a while. Place the flour [and cornflour if using], seasoning and spices into a zip-lock plastic bag and shake well to combine. Throw the chicken pieces into the spiced flour, zip up the bag and shake well to coat them evenly. Rest the whole lot in the fridge for a few minutes whilst you heat up the oil and shake again.

In a heavy, lidded skillet or frying pan heat about half an inch of vegetable oil. The depth needs to be such that once the chicken is in the oil will not reach higher than half way up the side of the pan. To see when the oil is hot enough for frying insert the handle of a wooden spoon – when the oil forms lively bubbles around the handle you’re ready to go [NB very vigorous bubbling means the oil is too hot, allow it to cool a little and try again]. Using tongs gently place the chicken pieces into the oil, skin side down, and add the celery pieces if using – it may be an old wives’ tale but this is supposed to help to crisp the chicken.

Cover and cook for nine to ten minutes, checking from time to time that the underside isn’t browning too quickly – if it is, lower the heat. Again using tongs turn the pieces and cook for another nine to ten minutes but this time without the lid. When all the chicken pieces are beautifully golden brown all over remove from the oil and drain. Some say this is best done on brown paper such as a grocer’s bag but kitchen roll will do too. Let the chicken cool for a few minutes before you dig in to avoid southern fried lips, a less appealing dish by far.

A Feather In Your Cap

At last, I’m proud to be able to bring you the long awaited pictorial follow up to my original guide to apple feathering! When I produced the original [which you can view here] I illustrated it using the basic version of Google SketchUp which doesn’t allow for the necessary manipulation of spheres, hence the strangely cuboid apple. A wise friend suggested that photos might make the guide easier to follow, a not unreasonable suggestion I felt, and so here it is.

I know that Juliet Harbutt would not agree that such fripperies are necessary for the decoration of a cheeseboard, but I have been adorning mine with feathered apples for as long as I can remember and I don’t intend to stop now.  A friend who moved house recently decided to clear out his boxes of old photos and produced one of me carrying a cheeseboard from my old kitchen some fifteen or so years ago. Not only could I remember the names of each of the cheeses and the shops where I’d bought them [this was some time before yellowwedge cheese was born] but there, standing proud in the centre of the board, was a feathered apple. I have even designed a new kitchen implement for carrying out the task, but until it makes it into production, which will undoubtedly make me a millionaire several times over into the bargain, you’ll need to follow these instructions [by the way if anyone has advice on producing prototype kitchen wares do get in touch!].

First, find a handsome, blemish-free apple.

 

You will also need a chopping board, a long sharp chef’s knife [you might think a paring knife would be better suited but trust me on this one], and a lemon.

Next cut out a neat quarter – that’s the easy bit!

 

Now cut a slightly smaller quarter from the first quarter.

 

From this point on in your knife skills are put to the test as the trick is to cut into the apple deeply enough to create a new segment, without cutting through the walls of the last one. Keep cutting progressively smaller quarters, taking care to keep them of a nice, even size. Remember to keep the new cuts parallel to the old, meeting at a 90˚ angle – the most common mistake for the novice featherer is to be tempted to cut wedge shapes with an ever decreasing corner angle. As you cut dribble a little lemon juice over the cut surfaces to stop discolouration.

Reassemble your apple, and give the pieces a quick slither over each other to evenly coat with lemon juice. Finally push out each wedge by an even amount [either up or down], and voila! A beautiful addition to your cheeseboard.

All you have to do now is bask in the guaranteed adulation of your guests and resist the temptation to kill the first of them who picks off a piece and eats it! You might also want to cut a small wedge from the bottom of the apple to angle it artfully on the board and show off your efforts to best effect.

Once you’ve been bitten by the apple feathering bug and honed your skills you might want to try your hand at multiple arrangements like the one shown here.

Happy feathering…!

Beetroot Gazpacho

Quick! The sun’s out again and there’s no telling for how long so fire up the barbecue and chill down the soup bowls. We’ll come back to the barbecue, for now it’s beetroot gazpacho time. Sweet and earthy, and resplendently purple, this makes a delicious and eye-catching summer starter. An online search for beetroot gazpacho recipes at the moment will find numerous references to Aiden Byrne’s elegant assembly of soup with avocado sorbet and vodka jelly, and if you’re looking for a full on production number do seek it out. I’ve based this on Aiden’s recipe and added some twists of my own, but it’s a simpler affair, though none the worse for the absence of the bells and whistles in my opinion.

Make no mistake, cooking with beetroot can be a messy business. Their magenta juices will attempt to leave vivid pink stains wherever they can, though these are easy enough to remove from surfaces and implements if you don’t leave them to settle in, and if you wash your hands regularly they should also escape mainly unscathed. That being said, if you’re a hand model about to shoot a commercial for De Beers you might want to wear gloves.

For four starter portions:

• 900g raw beetroot, scrubbed clean
• 1 medium apple
• 300 ml beetroot juice
• 2.5 tbsps sherry vinegar
• 1 slice of stale bread, soaked in water [not part of Aiden’s recipe, but usually found in traditional gazpacho]
• A small bunch of thyme
• The zest of half an orange and 1 tbsp of its juice OR the zest of a lime and the juice of one half
• Salt
• Sugar
• Soured cream to serve

First take three-quarters of the beetroot and wrap in a loose foil packet with most of the thyme, reserving a few sprigs for the final garnish. Roast the foil package in a 160˚C oven for an hour and a half. Peel the remaining beetroot and the apple and grate them raw into the bowl of a food processor. Once cool peel the cooked beetroot and grate or chop into the bowl, along with any juices from the foil parcel, discarding the thyme. Tear in the bread and add the juice and zest of the orange or lime – or you could experiment here and use the juice of one and the zest of the other. Finally pour in the beetroot juice. Lid on, and blitz the whole to a smooth purée. Now pass the purée through a fine sieve, pushing through with the back of a spoon or ladle.

Start adding salt and tasting as you go, until you feel you have almost added a touch too much salt. No add the sherry vinegar, and a sprinkle of sugar – the acidity and sweetness should balance out the saltiness. Chill for a few at least two hours, more will do no harm.

To serve pour the gazpacho into chilled soup bowls, dot with soured cream and sprinkle with thyme leaves.

Serving suggestion

If you have more beetroot juice than you need freeze some in ice-cube trays and add two or three to each bowl of soup. If you’re really looking to make a splash, and have the time and freezer space to spare, you could even serve this in ice bowls – but they are a post for another day.