Before we get on to anything else, I have some super exciting news: I’m going to be cooking a series of summer supper clubs at the lovely Lizzy’s On The Green.
Lizzy runs the much-loved Newington Green cafe and has invited me to collaborate on a series of Saturday events which I’m really looking forward to.
The dates are: June 3rd and 17th July 8th and 22nd August 5th and 19th
I’m still working on menus but they’ll be different each month and will feature a series of small and sharing plates. So expect freshly baked bread, pickles and ferments, sophisticated snacks, fresh pasta, seasonal salads, summer fruit desserts and more besides.
Tickets for the June dates are on sale already (get them here) and more info will be coming soon. If you’re not already subscribed to this newsletters, get on that now so you’re the first to know!
In other news, it was my birthday on Tuesday so I gave myself the day off (what a cool boss I am). I went for a run, ate a Morning Bun from the Dusty Knuckle and spent several hours at the pottery studio trying to throw pasta bowls. Limited success but still made what felt like progress.
A few things were out of the kiln including this plant pot and vase. The patterns of varied lines I spent ages etching into the side of them aren’t as apparent under the glaze as I hoped but am reasonably pleased.
In the evening James took me out for dinner at Brunswick House. I’ve wanted to go there for ages and it didn’t disappoint. The venue itself is a Georgian mansion turned architectural salvage yard turned restaurant, full of antique statuary and chandeliers and romantically faded grandeur. It’s beautiful. And the food was extraordinary. Jackson Boxer (what a name!) is one of the chefs I most admire in London at the moment. The flavour combinations he puts together are surprising but totally balanced; considered but playful.
Everything we ate was wonderful but I think this salad of roasted beetroot with stracciatella (the mozzarella curds mixed with cream that’s inside a burrata) was my favourite. It was topped with a blood orange kosho (a fermented japanese chilli paste, usually made with yuzu) that perfectly complemented the other flavours. Such a treat of a place for a special occasion. His other restaurant Orasay is also great - a slightly lower key but still elegant, fish-focussed place in West London. Both highly recommended!
So. Onto business. We’ve been chatting about krauts for the last few weeks. Traditional cabbage and carrot versions. They’re obviously delicious eaten as a side dish to a stew, tossed through a salad to bring crunch and acidity or as the crowing glory for a slice of sourdough slathered in hummus. But we haven’t talked about cooking with krauts yet so over the next couple of weeks I’m going to give you some ideas of how to incorporate them in easy dishes. After that we’ll get onto brine pickles and ferment some lovely early suummer veg. But for now, lets cook some kraut.
People can get weird about cooking wth their ferments as heat destroys the probiotics. But I don’t think it’s something to get obsessional about. As long as you’re eating fermented food on a regular basis, you’re still getting the health benefits. And cooked fermented vegetables are still full of fibre and vitamins. And obviously flavour. I think it’s fun to mix things up a bit to make the most of that.
These fritters use gram flour which is a handy thing to have in the store cupboard - really filling and good veggie protein. Have them with a salad for a light dinner or with a dipping sauce as a substantial snack.
Recipe: Kraut Fritters
Makes approximately 8 medium-sized fritters or 16 small. Serves 2-6, depending on the context.
Ingredients
100g gram flour
100ml water
pinch salt
200g (approx) kraut
2 tbsp veg oil (for frying)
Method
Put the gram flour in a mixing bowl and whisk in the water. Leave for 20 mins or so. This standing time is optional but improves the texture of the batter.
Add a pinch of salt to the batter and any other spices you’re using (see note).
Add the kraut and mix thoroughly. I actually divided my batter in half and made two separate batches: the larger fritters are made with classic sauerkraut and the smaller ones with the seeded carrot version from last week.
Put the oil in a frying pan over a medium-high heat and allow it to get shimmery. Add spoonfuls of the batter and let them cook until golden brown underneath (about 3 mins). Flip and repeat on the other side.
Watch your mouth but eat them whilst they’re hot.
Notes
Use any kraut you have or a mixture of kraut and fresh veg. If either is very watery give it a squeeze in a clean cloth before adding to the batter.
You can flavour the batter with a half tsp or so of ground spice if you like. Or freshly chopped herbs. Choose something that complements the kraut you’re using. eg mustard powder and dill for classic sauerkraut or ground cumin and fresh coriander for a carrot kraut.
I also added 50g finely cubed cheddar to the classic sauerkraut and it was great.
I put together a quick sauce for the sauerkraut fritters from 1 tbsp plain yoghurt, 1 tbsp mayo and a half tsp of Dijon mustard. The green sauce for the carrot fritters was a tiny bit more involved but still very easy: 1 small bunch coriander, 1 small bunch mint, 1 garlic clove, 1 tsbp yoghurt all blended together. Then seasoned and adjusted with a pinch of sugar and a squeeze of lemon juice. Or just use your favourite chutney.
Cultural Fun
I’ve been spending some time recently reading Vertical Veg by Mark Ridsdill Smith and making unrealistic plans for becoming self sufficient. I heard about the book because my photographer friend Clare Bowes took the pictures but it’s full of great advice. I’ve been trying to track the hour-by-hour sun in the garden before making a planting plan. Easier said than done since I haven’t yet been at home for a whole sunny day. But getting there.
I didn’t know that when it says “full sun” or “partial shade” on the back of seed packets that it wasn’t just cafe advice but can be translated into specific amounts (“full sun” = more than six hours a day). Mind blown! It was like the time when I found out that teaspoons and tablespoons weren’t just the spoons you had in your drawer but specific measurements in millilitres (5 and 15 respectively). Maybe this is why my tomatoes never ripen?
Last week I mentioned the After Impressionism exhibition at the National Gallery. There’s also a small (free) exhibition on there dedicated to the history and context of Quentin Matsys’s satirical painting The Ugly Duchess. I’ve been familiar with the picture since I was a child as I think it was used to illustrate a version we had of Sir Gawain and the Loathly Lady. But it had never struck me before just how much she resembles Tom Waits. Tell me you don’t see it too!
Bye! See you next week!
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In Good Taste is a Sycamore Smyth newsletter by me, Clare Heal. You can also find me on Instagram or visit my website to find information about my catering work, cookery lessons and upcoming events.
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