Silverbrow on Food

Cholent

Other than the religious requirement that the seventh day should be a day of rest, it makes quite of lot of pragmatic sense.  After a knackering week it's quite nice knowing that you can't do anything and should have a day of rest.  A cynical glutton might note that after a plate of cholent you're not good for much. 

Cholent, the Ashkenazi take on the mother of all stews is a bowel-thoughtful combination of beans, potatoes and meat cooked from Friday afternoon until it is eaten at Saturday lunch.

There's not a bad run-down of its history and derivations on Wikipedia, but my favorite history is Claudia Roden's in her seminal Book on Jewish Food.  Suffice to say it is a peasant dish that is open to some, but not vast interpretation.  The long cooking to abide by the laws of the Sabbath mean that robust ingredients that can stand-up to a prolonged simmer are ubiquitous.

I would like to be able to regale you with tales of my family's recipe and how it dates back to Heime Silverbrow, who like his descendants after him was a slave to his stomach, so despite fleeing the latest pogrom the Pale was throwing at him, he refined his cholent to a sublime dish.  How it had been passed down from bubbe to spoiled brat until it landed in my lap, and thence on to my table.  But it would be nothing more than a myth.

I did not grow up on a diet of cholent, I think it's fair to say its lack of refinement and the fact we didn't observe Sabbath meant it wasn't a regular on our familial table.

But things have changed and now it does get an outing, but the recipe is my own, based on others I have tasted and recipes I have read.  I had a bit of a disaster when I last made it, it was the first time in a new oven.  I've now got the recipe to a level I'm happy with.  It's a great dish, but does require a day of rest once eaten.

Serves 8

A crucial part of the recipe is what you cook it in.  I have only ever used one dish, a Le Creuset Casserole.  I know they're not cheap, but you want something with some heft if you're subjecting it to 18 hours of cooking.  In particular you need something with a lid that seals well if it is not to dry out.  The old-skool way of ensuring it didn't was sealing the lid with dough that would be baked into a seal as the dish cooked.  I've never tried it and don't intend to start.  Especially as I like to take a peek through the cooking process to check whether a top-up of water is required.

A word on the ingredients.  There is flexibility in what you include but beans of some sort and pearl barley should definitely be included, as obviously should meat and potatoes.  I'm not too militant on the beans I use, usually they're a mix of kidney, pinto, borlotti and the like.  The addition of wine is a modern affectation I quite like for flavour.  I used hot spicy paprika because it was all I had to hand.  I wonder if those of Hungarian stock might be more inclined to use a sweeter one, but the spicy kick from the hot paprika is quite invigorating I find.

UPDATE: As further proof of the flexibility of the ingredients for this wunder dish, it's worth noting that both Simon in the comments below uses beef shin as does Esther Walker's fiance and he knows a thing or two about food.  You couldn't get much further from the beef cheek I use. 

• 250g beans - soak the beans the night before you use them, don't use tinned, they'll turn to mush
• 50g of pearl barley
• 750g stewing beef cubed
• 500g beef cheek cubed
• 5 large potatoes peeled and cut into large chunks
• 1 large onion, cut into large dice
• 2 carrots, peeled and cut into large dice
• 5 cloves garlic, peeled
• 3 sprigs of thyme
• 2 bay leaves (use 1 if bay is dried)
• 1 tsp of smoked hot paprika
• 200ml red wine - I used a Barbaresco most recently
• 1.5l water - or enough to cover the contents of the pot

The cooking time is exceptionally long - that is afterall the point. I reckon that for the fully authentic Shabbat experience, you need to start cooking approximately 18 hours before you plan to eat - this excludes bean soaking time, which should be the night before you start cooking.

Lightly fry the onions, carrots and garlic in vegetable oil in the pot you're cooking the dish in.

Add salt and pepper liberally.

Drain the beans and add them and the barley on top of the vegetables.

Add the meat and the rest of the ingredients next. Add more salt and pepper, I favour being heavy handed with both.

Cover the lot with a cartouche.  If you've no idea what I'm talking about, go and watch this super-dry Aussie to learn.

I then put in the oven at 100°F and leave it.

I do check on it at various points, in particular just before I go to bed and then in the morning. If it needs a bit of a top-up of water, then add it. Bear in mind that the consistency of the dish should change significantly over the course of cooking. It will start as quite a watery stew but should end up as thick, deep rust coloured (or is that Titian red?) and gelatinous. Not gluey, there should be some moisture in it, but the end product will look very different to what you started with.

I'm quite partial to drinking it with a decent single malt.  The smokiness, even of something quite smooth, not too peaty, works well.  I've even been known to cut to the chase and empty a shot over my portion.

Chicken soup

With all this freezing weather, we've been making a lot of chicken soup lately.  Since I first wrote about it in February 2006 my recipe has evolved somewhat.  I have amended my original recipe accordingly.  So what is here, is how I now cook it.

The changes are adding the chicken carcass, increasing the number of onions and cloves of garlic and tweaking the quantity of water.

• 1 roaster chicken with giblets & feet
• 1 chicken carcass
• 5 onions, peeled and halved
• 1 carrot, peeled and chopped into large pieces
• 1 stick of celery, destringed and chopped into large pieces
• 1 clove of garlic, peeled
• 1 stick leek, out leaves removed and chopped into large pieces
• 2 fresh bay leaves (if using dried, just use 1)
• 3-3.5l water

The method for cooking is exactly the same as in the original recipe i.e. putting the lot in the pot and letting it heat up, skim the scum and enjoy at its best the day after being made.

Crowd saucing salt beef

What with hailing from the shtetl (a century or so ago), perhaps my love of salt beef can be attributed to genes, or Proust.  Maybe it's just that it's very tasty when done well.  Whatever, it is one of my favourite comfort foods.  The simple thought of it makes me happy. 

It is easiest, and therefore, best cooked in large hunks, it therefore rewards the greedy or generous.  It has to be cooked for a long period, so no item of clothing or furniture lacks the telling whiff of bay, pepper and meat. 

When you finally get to eat it, your taste buds have spent the last three hours limbering up as the smell of the dish permeates the house.  As the lid is lifted off the pot you're hit with an intense waft of meaty steam.  Then out comes a glistening hunk of fatty meat.  And then the real anticipation begins.  Not just of taste, but of the cut.  Has it cooked for the right amount of time?  Are you about to get a stringy mass of meat, or lithe slices? 

And what of the taste?  Umami and a hint of salt are all you need to worry about. 

It should be self evident why I decided I really needed to turn my hand to brining and cooking the dish for myself. 

Which brings me neatly on to my first experiment and my recipe below.  Let's start at the end.  I was deeply disappointed with what I made.  It was overly salty and pretty darn tough.

The best I can say is that before carving or tasting it, I had immense satisfaction lifting it out of the pot and knowing I pickled the bugger.  It's just what came next that deflated my smugness.

Before we progress, a word about the beef.  Mine was from the blade end.  It was quite fatty and I didn't trim it.  I wonder if this is the source of error.  I'd thought that by leaving it on it would make it even more moist.  I wonder if in fact it made the meat tougher by contracting rather than relaxing the meat.  Is this bollocks?  Is it possible to have too much fat when boiling meat?

I should add for the assumption-jumpers reading this that of course I removed the fat before eating it.

So, I post this recipe here as a starting point.  It is an aide memoire for me.  I'm going to make this again and want to remember what I did first time round.  More importantly, I'm posting it here because I'd like to get your thoughts on where I went wrong.

The recipe I used was largely based on Hugh Fearnley Whittingstall's in the excellent Meat.  Unfortunately, many of my cookbooks are still in storage and I was unable to dig out Arthur Schwartz's Jewish Home Cooking: Yiddish Recipes Revisited, I'm certain there must be a recipe in there.  I triangulated HFW's recipe with others I found on the internet and by scouring recipes in as many books as I could get my hands on.  The tweaks are minor - I didn't use juniper berries, he recommends them and the like.

So, in this instance more than any other I'd be delighted to get your thoughts on where I went wrong and how to ensure the salt beef of my dreams.

For the salting/brining

• 3kg brisket
• 5L water
• 500g demerera sugar
• 1.5kg salt
• 1 tsp black peppercorns
• 5 cloves
• 4 bay leaves
• 30g saltpetre

You will also need a large non-metallic container to hold the beef whilst it's brining.

Cooking the beef

• 2 bay leaves
• Bunch of thyme
• 1 carrot, chopped
• 1 onion, chopped
• 1 celery stick, chopped
• 3 cloves garlic

To salt the beef

Day 1: 3kg of brisket

Put all the ingredients for the brine in a pan and bring to the boil.  The salt and sugar will dissolve.  Remove from the heat and allow to cool completely.  And remember that means completely.  Unless you want to get on first name terms with your local A&E team, you don't want your beef cooked in tepid water for the thick end of a week.  So let it cool down.

Once the brine is cool (got it, cool) put the beef into your container and cover with the brine.  You may need to weigh down the meat to stop it floating in the brine.  I used a couple of small Le Creuset dishes as you can see in my Bailey-esque photos.

Day 1: The meat just after it has gone in the brine

Day 1: The meat in brine

My 3kg of meat spent 5 days in the brine. 

As per HFW's instructions I left the brining meat in a cool room.  However, I have to admit that three days in I got cold feet and, as this was due to feed a large proportion of my nearest and dearest, I did put it in the fridge.  I knew this would slow the brining process - perhaps that was why it was so tough?  But then again, would it have been even saltier if I'd let it brine at room temperature?

Throughout the brining I checked on it regularly and over the days the beef clearly changed colour and throughout it smelt very good - spicy and of cloves.

Day 5: The meat shortly before it comes out of the brine (the weird circular indent is the mark left by something that was weighing it down)

I removed it from the brine five days after putting it in.  I had expected the meat to be quite soft, instead it was much firmer than I expected.  In my notes I wrote that it was very firm.  I did get slightly concerned at this point.  I've cooked pre-brined salt beef numerous times and that had attuned my expectations, I don't remember it being quite so stiff.  Again, my unscientific mind wondered whether the copious fat had played a part, perhaps too much of it resulted in the whole brisket toughening up in the salty brine?

The meat was also browner than I had expected. I wonder if I didn't use enough saltpetre. 

Day 5: The meat out of the brine

Nonetheless I was hopeful as I rinsed it under the tap - it was very slippery so hold tight - and then soaked it in fresh cold water for 24 hours.  I think over that period I changed the water three times.  The meat shouldn't float in this water - it's no longer chilling in the Dead Sea.

Day 5: The meat in clean, fresh water

Now comes the cooking.  Put the beef in a pot with herbs and vegetables and cover with fresh water.  As I always do, I cooked it on a low heat on the hob for approximately 3 hours.  You want it to be a rolling boil and by that I mean: the water's gently bubbling rather than furiously splashing.

And that's it.  The cooking bit I've done before and never had a problem.  This was a disaster and I'd love to know the reasons.  Did I simply not cook it long enough?  Was the brine mix wrong? Was there too much fat? Was it a mistake wimping out and putting it in the fridge?

I want to crack this, so am hoping to give it another go shortly.  Any further thoughts before then are gratefully received.

Rosh Hashanah 2009

A happy and healthy new year to everyone reading - and those not reading as well of course.

If you've not got a clue why you are receiving these felicitations at this time of year you should read this and then this.

And of course, well over the fast.

I'll update on the home-brined salt beef next week - let's just hope I haven't poisoned anyone and / or it hasn't gone off before I cook it.

Apple & black pepper sorbet

This sorbet is a very good foil to a rich Rosh Hashanah lunch - or any time you've eaten far too much rich dense food.  At the end of such a large meal you want something refreshing.  The spiciness of the pepper helps remind your tongue to wake-up.

Makes just under 1L of sorbet.

• 1L medium / dry apple juice (I quite like Duskin Farm's Bramley apple juice)
• 75g caster sugar
• 1 lemon - juiced
• 200 ml water
• 5 peppercorns crushed - I find ground peppercorns just disappear

As with all sorbets it's pretty darn easy.

Combine all the ingredients in a pan and heat for about 20mins.  It will come to a boil, but try to keep it at a simmer rather than rolling boil - you don't want too much to evaporate.

Place it in the fridge to cool thoroughly.

Then if you're using an ice-cream machine, follow its instructions for making sorbet.  With my machine, that basically means turning the freezer unit on to get it cold, then putting the syrup in the bowl to churn for around 30-40 minutes.

If you don't have an ice-cream machine, put the cooled syrup in a container that can go in the freezer and keep an eye on it - every hour or so - and scrape the surface with a fork to break-up the ice-crystals.  Eventually the whole lot will freeze, but not into a solid block, which will happen if you don't scrape. 

I find this method ends up more like granita than sorbet, that is, larger chunks of ice.  My preference is for a smoother sorbet, but each to their own.

Preparing for Rosh Hashanah 2009

As August draws to a close, the temperature begins to dip and the nights draw in, I get excited.  Autumn isn't far off - and that means good food - more particularly though, Rosh Hashanah is around the corner and that means good cooking. 

And why the excitement?  The High Holidays are a time for reflection on the year before and what is to come in the year ahead.  It is also a time that is traditionally spent with the family.  And as with any Jewish get together, that means food is present and abundant.

In our family it has become the norm that my wife and I cook lunch on the second of the two days of Rosh Hashanah for the rest of the family - about 14 people.  This year, we'll likely be cooking on both days, although the first day will be a smaller gathering with just the in-laws.

For me, the anticipation of the meal starts about now as I begin to give thought to what I might cook. 

Because it's a festival, which means a longish stretch in shul, it's lunch and there are lots of people, food needs to be ready soon after they sit down.  Usually this means that starters are cold or at least well prepared before I leave for synagogue in the morning. 

The main course is almost always something slow-cooked.  In the past I've made pot-au-feu or bollito misto.  I quite like both of these as they include tongue, which I love and which reminds me of growing up when my mother always made tongue for Rosh Hashanah.

I'm undecided on what to do this year.  Both of these champions have a lot going for them, they're delicious and they have the requisite wow factor for a feast - because let's be honest, when you're cooking for a lot of people, you might as well show off a bit.  Bollito misto lends itself well to big meals because you can use the broth as a starter - I could replace the traditional tortellini with kreplach. Then again the pot-au-feu leftovers are just so good and the definition of chef's treat.

Maybe I should do something different.  I'm loathed to not have tongue somewhere on the table.  But I am tempted to brine my own salt beef this year, ahead of a mooted salt-beef taste-off with Dan Young of Young and Foodish - a man versed in the way of salt-beef.

Tongue and salt-beef could be a goer, but it just feels a little too prosaic.  We'll have to see, maybe I could do the salt beef for another Yom Tov meal.

Starter will most certainly include chopped liver and depending on how generous I'm feeling, my guests may get some leftover gribenes.

Dessert will definitely include my apple and black pepper sorbet.  Sounds weird, but tastes great.  I'll have a recipe up in the next few days.

Time to start plotting, rereading books, recipes and mining the deepest crevices of my mind.  I'll update once I've made a decision.  I'll also be sure to write-up the sorbet recipe.  It's seriously tasty, refreshing and light after a big meal.  But sounds nasty, I know.

Do it for the kreplach

I've been thoroughly impressed by David Sax's single-mindedness in his attempt to Save the Deli in the US.

Deli, read Ashkenazi, food is a phenomena in the US, but has never reached the same vaulted position in the UK.  If David thinks things are getting bad in the US, he should look at the UK.  Well he did, and he liked what he saw.  But can there be any doubt that what we have pales in significance to the US experience.

This video is the preview for the US edition of his forthcoming book.  Having just watched it I'm hungry and drooling at all that pickled meat.

As the video reminds us, what the world needs now is schmaltz, sweet schmaltz, it's the only thing that there's just too little of.  Other than gribenes, of course.